Some Thoughts on Safe Paddling

By Elmore Holmes
July, 2003

     "Isn't it dangerous for you to be out on the Mississippi?!"
     I can't even count the number of times I've been asked this question by casual acquaintances once I've told them that I like to paddle my boat on the Big Muddy each day.  And naturally, I'm ready with a glib retort: "Less dangerous than driving your car on I-240."  So there.
     But let's face it--it is a valid question.  Regarding all rivers, not just the Mississippi.  To treat it with disdain would be bad for our health and project a poor public image for our sport.
     On whitewater rivers, entrapments are a big hazard.  The riverbeds are cluttered with rocks and logs that can trap a person's feet and hold him beneath the surface.  Undercut rocks and "strainers" (trees or branches in the river) strike fear into the hearts of even the best paddlers.  On higher-volume rivers, flush-drowning is a possibility.  And then there's hypothermia: many rivers (especially small creeks) have runnable flows primarily in the winter and spring, when both the water and the air are bitterly cold.
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     A big, open river like the Mississippi, meanwhile, can be deceptively hazardous.  Since the water, under normal conditions, is Class I, capsizes are less common than on whitewater rivers.  But the consequences of a swim can be severe.  A person without a reliable self-rescue will be in the water for a long time.  If the weather and water are cold, hypothermia will be a grave danger.  Even a good swimmer stands to lose his boat and paddle.  Losing control near the upstream end of a barge is a horrible accident indeed, as at least one Memphis-area yachter has discovered in the last year and a half.
     Most paddlers--and I am no exception--tend to become a little complacent once they've been at it a few years and have achieved an advanced skill level.  We get comfortable on the rivers we paddle frequently, and we come to know these rivers so well that we can paddle them with our eyes closed.  Once we've ferried across the Mississippi a few dozen times, or been flushed out of an Ocoee play hole a few dozen times, we begin to believe we can ferry across any large river or play in any big hole with impunity.  We start to believe that accidents happen only to less-experienced people who shouldn't have been out paddling where they were in the first place.  An accident could never happen to us, we think, because we're too good and too smart.
     Anybody who thought so received a rude awakening in the mid- to late-1990s, when a rash of accidents resulted in the deaths of some world-class boaters.  The highest-profile incident occurred in 1997, when Rich Weiss, less than a year after electrifying the home crowd with an impressive sixth-place finish in the Olympic Games on the Ocoee, drowned on the White Salmon River in Washington.  Rich had been one of the best all-around athletes ever to compete in whitewater slalom; he was an expert skier and a state champion in high school wrestling as well as a great paddler.  Moreover, he was exceptionally bright, a Ph.D. who owned his own consulting firm.  The news of his death left the paddling community stunned.  As paddlers across the country coped with the tragedy, one of Rich's former teammates summed it up with great eloquence:
     It has been easy to ignore the increasing number of river deaths.  'That wouldn't have happened to me… I'm better than he was… I'm smarter than that…'  Those are the subconscious thoughts which many, including myself, have had.
     Sorry, folks, but that won't cut it any longer.  They don't come any better or any smarter than Rich Weiss.  Will I teach my son to paddle?  Absolutely, and I wager Rich would have also.  The joy, the satisfaction, the personal growth I've experienced through paddling and the spectacular places I've seen are well worth the risk.  But let's not pretend the risk isn't there.  It's there and it's very real, and if we don't do everything we can to deal with it and minimize it, then we've missed a very important lesson.
     The author of this passage, an accomplished paddler named Doug Gordon, was killed himself two years later, while participating in a first descent of the Tsangpo Gorge in the Tibetan Himalayas.
     The best way we can honor the memory of these and other paddling victims is with a resolution to update our own river safety skills.  Here are a few of my thoughts on steps we can all easily take.

1. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.  It's a cliché, of course, but most sayings don't become cliches unless they contain some truth.  The higher your skill level, the lower the probability of a serious accident.  I elaborate with my next thought:

2. Let your experience keep pace with your skills.  Anyone who watches sports on TV has heard the announcers talk about the "rookie mistakes" that gifted but inexperienced quarterbacks and point guards are liable to commit.  The same is true for inexperienced paddlers.
     When we first started paddling, many of our instincts were wrong.  We instinctively wanted to try to stand in swift water.  We instinctively wanted to bring our heads up first while trying to roll.  We instinctively wanted to lean away from a rock when broached on its upstream side.  We instinctively wanted to drop our paddles and cry for mommy whenever the slightest thing went wrong.
     Correcting these faulty instincts meant spending hours, days, and weeks on easy rivers, where we could make stupid mistakes with no greater consequence than an embarassing swim.  Eventually, as we began to achieve a zen-like oneness with our boats, the right thing to do became our instinct.
     DO YOUR HOMEWORK before attempting more dangerous rivers.  And don't forget to HAVE FUN in the process.  Go out and play on some popular, familiar, accessible Class I-III rivers and, yes, even the lake.  You will be surprised by the impact it has on your skill level.

3. Learn the Eskimo roll.  Whitewater boaters generally do a good job with this one, as rolling is an integral part of river-running and playboating.  Furthermore, the prevailing whitewater culture seems to steer most of its denizens where they belong.  On rivers such as the Gauley and Gore Canyon and Section IV of the Chattooga, where life-threatening hazards are abundant, you just don't see anybody without a solid roll.
     The people I worry about are those who come into touring without any sort of whitewater background, and progress to the more challenging touring waters, like the Mississippi River or the open sea, without a roll or other self-rescue techniques that most whitewater paddlers learn.
     As I said above, capsizes are not common on the Mississippi, and people's skills in handling this river tend to outpace their ability to react should a mishap occur.  Unfortunately, one serious accident is one too many.  Therefore, I encourage ALL paddlers of decked boats to commit themselves to learning the Eskimo roll, no matter what kind of water they intend to paddle.  And I'm happy to report there are many ways to do so, and they can all be loads of fun.  Here in Memphis, both the Bluff City Canoe Club and the Memphis Whitewater group rent time at local swimming pools so that members can polish this skill.  One can also take a course at a place like the Nantahala Outdoor Center or the Rocky Mountain Outdoor Center, or work with a private instructor such as yours truly.

4. Practice other self-rescue techniques.  Even if the Eskimo roll is not a skill you can master, or if you choose to paddle a non-decked boat, there are other self-rescue techniques that can make the difference between a minor mishap and a serious accident.  Hot summer days on a familiar lake or river are ideal for practicing the recovery of one's boat, paddle, and self in the water.  If you aspire to tour large bodies of water, get a bilge pump and paddle float and practice their use on a warm, friendly lake.  Whitewater boaters can cool off by practicing swimming in moving water while their friends "rescue" them with throw ropes.

5. I've said this already, but I'll say it again: Have fun.  Paddling skills are not something we have to work on; they're something we want to work on.  And the more frequently and enthusiastically we do so, the faster our skills will improve.  Make paddling a part of your everyday routine at home, and you will be prepared for every exotic adventure that comes your way.  The skills you develop while playing and having a good time will be there for you at those crucial moments when you really need them.

     A lifelong pursuit--that's what we want our paddling to be.  By incorporating a few simple safety precautions into our repertoire, we can make sure "lifelong" is a long and happy time indeed.
 


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