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Way back in the summer of the year 2003, I trained to be a white rivah raftah guide guy, and one aspect of the job was stressed more than any other: safety. Since then "being safe" has acquired a whole new meaning that actually has nothing to do with rafting at all, but that story is for a different type of magazine.
In the rafting community, though, safety still holds a very high precedence, and when I'm fitting all of those SPORTs into their PFDs each raft trip morning, I know I am making those people as safe as possible (unless of course those poor souls are in Lincoln's boat).
They count on us as experienced guides (did I mention I trained last year?) to protect them all day long, and to navigate the river successfully. To know what the hell we are doing. To do as we were trained and keep them in the boat, avoid rocks, and keep the boat upright.
Yet, why do people only remember the trips when they fell out and all hell broke loose? Why is it that I got the biggest tip of the year on a day when I made the whole boat swim part of a Class V rapid? It is a strong investment in "controlled chaos" and the hope of its occurrence.
Guides can't wait for the big water to come. "One of these days, old boy, we're going to get to the gauge and it'll say 34 hun-do, and it'll be on." Well a few weekends ago, Saturday's trip came along, and as we bussed it over the Penobscot River on Abol Bridge, big smiles came to the face of many a guide, for the rock was under water. We all were thinking, "Today is the day, old boy."
Although it was not quite 3,400 cfs when we got to McKay, a few extra hundred cfs can add quite a bit of excitement on the mighty West Branch. It was the highest water we'd had for a trip all summer, and carnage had been lacking.
I had a crew of eight young, healthy Bostonites (for lack of an appropriate term) who were just my age, and looking for the full rafting experience. "We want to flip the boat today," was the first thing they said to me. Trouble. After promising them that I can't promise anything, we ran Newosadnehunk Falls, and played in Little Hole a while. To their (my) dismay, the boat was still upright. On to Gorge-Crib. I got tight at the Big E hole, and ran the gorge clean, feeling tested but confident. But the water sure did seem a little bigger that 2,860.
As we rounded Steve McQueen's Corner, the marker rock on river left told me the water was above 3,000, and the Crib Works lay ahead. My success rate in the Crib Works has been fair, as I had only had one swimmer ever there, so I went with the flow. My line was feeling good through Turkey Chute, broached to the right, riding the eddy line past Pain in the Ass Rock, ready to draw the nose back around when it caught river-rightish upstream current, so my choice was to pry and hit the Typewriters backwards, and extremely SLOWLY. So I hit that second one, and the nose started to bury, and people started leaving the raft. Just before I could say, "Hey guys, where are you going? You should probably stay in this raft because there are a lot of hard and sharp rocks in these waters, and swimming it might suck pretty badly. Plus they'll be time to swim very soon, as long as we make it through this rapid," the whole boat had flipped and I was swimming too. As I boarded the upside down boat I could hear Corey's words of encouragement, "You're all done, Bub!" Thanks buddy.
So I attempted to go shopping at the yard sale below the Crib Works, but only found two pieces I liked. I considered using the Crusher to flip my boat back over, but decided against it at the very last second. I thought, maybe we should just go get the other folks to make sure they're all alive. After calming the screamers I had on top of the boat with me down I righted the raft and boarded everyone back up. Expecting the worst from these people who wanted a flip, but probably not in the Class V section, I've never experienced a more satisfying display of joy from customers. Once it was evident that everyone was okay, momentous celebration took place. Needless to say we had plenty to laugh about on the float to Ambejack, where we flipped again. Also needless to say, they loved it again (although I don't think quite as much as that first one).
We finally got off the water and I was thinking, "Worst Crib run ever." That's when my crew proclaimed, "You're the best tour guide we've ever had," and I thought, "Huh, that's funny," but kept it to myself, to avoid raining on their parade. At the end of the day, from my eight-load alone we sold fifteen photos and seven $40 videos, making my first (and hopefully only) flip in the Crib Works a semi-success, at least for somebody. I don't think I'd be going out on a limb here to say clean runs would not have produced a similar fiscal result.
A conclusion is reached when one examines the evidence that guides yearn for big water, and SPORTs want to swim whitewater: Humans Love Carnage. Just ask video boaters from around the rafting community, they'll give it to you straight.
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Do not get me wrong with the point of this piece. Safety is always the number one priority on any raft trip, and I can speak for most guides when I say no one makes mistakes on purpose, and no one makes things go wrong on purpose. That is why they are called mistakes and accidents (and accident reports). A characteristic of a good raft guide is not one who runs perfect lines every time (although that is a good characteristic as well), but one who knows how to fix things when they go wrong, to limit the amount of danger on the river for you and your crews. My personal philosophy is to remember where I have botched, and to not make the same mistake twice. So don't be waiting at Vulture Rock to see me flip at the Typewriters again, because you won't see it. I try to run clean every day and it makes me feel good when SPORTs say, "That was Exterminator." But the great part about this job is that things can go wrong everyday and we have to be prepared to deal with it. We are trained to do so and it's exciting to do it, and we feel great when things work out okay and terrible when they do not. So keep rafting safe and keep having fun, but don't be afraid to try something new. Just remember, there are two types of guides: those who have, and those who will.
Email nick [at] noumbrella [dot] com with your questions, comments and concerns.
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