The Day I Almost Drowned

by David C. Lowy

My first trip to Big Bend was full of water; soggy fireworks, wet parkas (fortunately not my own), frozen rain on the highway and the river trying to drown me.  

I wasn't even planning to make the river trip but couldn't resist asking to be included as I watched the canoes being loaded and put in the Rio Grande. I said three people could fit in one boat couldn't they? Everyone's first mistake was saying "yes" but that's what Big Bend does to you, "yes, yes, yes!" 

The first part of the trip was relaxing, pretty and uneventful except for my sandwich getting slightly wet in river water, but I was very hungry, took a chance and ate it. Perhaps I've never been the same. We stopped in a beautiful part of the canyon where rocks were covered with lush green.

After a lot of lazy drifting and a few rapids we approached the rock slide. Some decided wisely to portage around and were positioned well to witness what happened to the three person boat that I was in.  We had been practicing our canoe strokes and maneuvering skills on some minor rapids and around some rocks and were confident that we could make it through the most challenging spot. So, we started, and there was no stopping. The water was rushing by the huge boulder and started to carry us with it. No amount of shouted instructions and rapid paddling could prevent us from being slammed against the rock like a swatted fly. The canoe was made of a bendable material and was wrapped around the rock in a U shape. We were able to hold on and then climb shakily out of the freezing water onto the rock. Our leader, his wife and I sat sadly on the rock looking down at the boat. It was decided that "the men" would have to get back in the water to try to dislodge the boat and hang on to it. Mistake number two! As soon as the boat got free it was swept rapidly down the river; we couldn't possibly hold on and glanced briefly at each other as we were each in turn swept after the canoe. This was no tube ride or water park. The river was out for blood. At first it was kind of leisurely though very cold. Just a swift ride down the river trying to stay afloat. Then I saw our leader disappear under the water and I didn't see him come back up before I realized it was my turn next. The water just shoved me under and as I made little whimpering sounds I thought clearly, "What about rocks? What should I do? Eek, eek!" There was really nothing I could do until the river spat me out way downstream and then I saw our leader floating along ahead of me. The river was calm now and it was just a matter of swimming over to a rock and climbing out which proved to be very difficult because of the fear, shock and approaching hypothermia. I managed to climb out but I could barely keep my balance even sitting on the rock and I was shivering. I was puzzled when our leader who was a physician asked my name and other odd questions. He said he was just checking on my condition. I was not dressed for the eventuality of tumping in an icy river. Our leader had captured the canoe and informed me that we would need to walk it back up river to pick up his wife and our supplies. I almost laughed out loud because I barely could sit up much less get back in the river. So he managed on his own. 

When we got to the pullout point someone found some dry clothes for me including some ragged thermal underwear. Sitting next to someone in the crowded car helped to warm me up as we rode back to camp but our leader's wife was embarrassed when she realized that her hand was resting on my bare leg through the tear in my borrowed long-johns.

the end