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June, 2006
Raft guidelines
By SCOTT PHAIR
My purpose for writing this column is to share ideas and opinions with people who love rivers and adventures as much as I do. I want to provoke supportive responses, contrary notions and passions that need a voice. I have been a part of the whitewater rafting industry in Maine for 22 years and have seen an extraordinary transformation take place during that time. In future columns I will honor legends of this sport, drawing on primary sources for the information and relating some incidents that I have witnessed. I am keenly aware of how stories can become facts, if told enough.
I will also collaborate with working guides to bring issues of interest and importance to all of us. One of the great things about being a raft guide is that you never complete your training. Every trip I participate in, for one day or 30 days, brings new experiences that increase my desire to learn more. For instance, the variety of techniques for grooving, (the art & science of pooping outside) that change based on permit requirements. Who would have thought that a wilderness potty could evolve in a similar way to the process that turned monkeys into men? There will be more on that another time, but I know I have struck a nerve with anyone who has been on a multi-day river trip.
It seems appropriate to focus on guide training at this time of year. I remember vividly my first day of guide training, which took place in North Conway, N.H. It was for the now defunct, but never forgotten company, Downeast Whitewater - or DEW. Too clueless to be sufficiently terrified, I was simply compliant to whatever directive was issued. My first ever guide trainee task was to clean the wetsuits that were left downstairs for the winter at Saco Bound. The memory of that aroma remains with me to this day. Jeremy the Englishman, Winger, Crusher, and Rick, experienced guides (I was to learn later that experienced is a very relative term) all moved about their duties with a purpose I craved. Invited to join this merry band of pioneers by Cueball, I was literally dazed and confused by all the stuff that needed to be done before we could actually get in a boat on the Swift River for guide training to begin. I also wondered if I would acquire a cool nickname like these guys. I didn't, thank the river gods.
Twenty-three years ago, guide training usually took place on a series of weekends starting in mid-April, culminating with the first run on the Dead River. We had four in that training class, but two of us continue as river professionals to this day (my hat is off to you, Dave). My impressions of on-the-river training were of chaos, screaming, bouncing off everything I could see and a lot of things I couldn't see, and the smug, all-knowing smiles of my trainers. The Swift River is a technical river and I was without any technique. Moreover, I didn't recognize the fact that we didn't fare much better when the trainers took over. I was to discover that most of these experienced guides had had the benefit of one year, mostly on the Kennebec River, before training us on the Swift River. The frosting on the cake was a pinned raft at Turnstile Rapid. Yes, we had all heard of a Z-drag, but that was about the extent of our collective knowledge of that method of mechanical advantage. What seemed so much simpler to Jeremy was to tie three throwbags together, then tie that to the DEW truck on the Kagamangus Highway. Someone shouted, "Go," the truck roared down the road and the line snapped in about .05 seconds, sending a whiplash of 140 feet of nylon line over our heads. We were stunned that our efforts had failed. Eventually we deflated enough of the boat to eliminate the pin situation, but only after a series of suggestions by all in our group that would have made the Three Stooges look like Nobel laureates.
So here is where I inject a bit of history around guide testing. In the old days (notice I didn't say the good old days) guide testing consisted of typically a three-person panel made up of a game warden, an outfitter, and an experienced guide. The testing lasted for no more than 45 minutes and the panel would ask "what if" questions. They might show a slide of a rapid taken from an airplane (a view you would never normally get in 100 years) or ask you to solve an impossible situation. Case in point, I was asked, "What would you do if your customer sustained a back injury above Cathedral Eddy and was strapped to a backboard. You begin your run at Magic Falls and he and the backboard go over the side of your boat. What is your next action?" I thought as fast as I could but no answer seemed to solve this deadly puzzle. Knowing defeat when I saw it, I just smiled a bit and said, "I'd probably give'em Last Rites because he's a goner." When the laughter subsided, we all agreed that hiking someone out above Magic Falls would be a better approach than the backboard boogie in the scenario.
The process of guide testing today has improved greatly. The trainee is observed on the river, in front of river runners who know the acceptable performance level of a first year guide. The paper and pencil test is administered to those candidates who have demonstrated the requisite skills necessary to move a raft with reasonable safety down the Kennebec River.
Here are five concepts I hope each outfitter demands from every new guide:
1. The ability to provide the type of trip your crew wants, not necessarily the trip the guide would like.
2. Professionals instill confidence in their customers by being clean, not smelling like they had a couple of shots before they met the crew, and treating everyone with respect (even the ones with chucks of white sunscreen all over their faces).
3. "You'll be fine" is not the universal cure for first time whitewater fear. Reassuring terrified customers is a skill that is not only based on simple kindness; it can also lead to financial rewards later on.
4. Sharing a sincere love of the river as a resource. Our Maine Rivers have an incredibly rich history, dating back to prehistoric times. Being able to speak intelligently about that, and many other topics, is a sign of knowledge.
5. Guides are the ultimate teachers. Even if you are 20 years old and your pupils are 50, you have to get them to trust you in a very short period of time. You have a great advantage in that most of them are highly motivated by fear. As the guide, you are the difference between awesome and disastrous and either way, you will produce a memory that will last a lifetime.
Until next time, "never give up…"
Scott Phair is an educational administrator in Augusta and lives in Manchester, Maine.
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