Surviving the Penobscot: Swimming in Class V Rapids

**Disclaimer- As with all my blogs, everything stated are my own thoughts, feelings, and opinions. The following are my raw thoughts, feelings, and gut reactions; completely un-exaggerated. 

PROLOGUE:

I have a set group of friends dubbed the Tuesday Night Dinner Crew because we get together on Tuesday nights for dinner, rotating whose house we go to.  Most of the TND crew are all co-workers at the same job. The rest of us are the "guests" of said co-workers. We are all transplanted from Connecticut and being that we didn't know anyone else, we started having someone over for dinner, in hopes of making friends. That has grown into a large group of 12-14 on a weekly basis. It's a diverse crowd and I love them. :) Our weekly dinners are the highlight of my week! :) We don't just hang out on Tuesday nights. There have been some weeks that we've hung out 3 different times in one week.

A couple of people from TND decided to plan a white water rafting trip last year. We couldn't attend because we'd just had our baby but we planned on going the next time. A year later, and here we find ourselves preparing for rafting on the 3rd most technically difficult river in the country; the Penobscot River in Maine. That river proudly boasts two Class V rapids. (For those that don't know what V stands for, it's roman numerals for 5.)

I was sooo excited the entire time of planning but found myself getting more and more nervous (ok, scared) as the time drew closer. By the morning of, I was kinda quiet, my stomach in knots, and slightly nauseated from the nerves. We were given our wet suits, helmets, life vests, paddles, a short survival technique tutorial and were on our way.

(Above picture: Our group of rafters just before we walked to the site. Not shown: Abbey while she takes the photo.)

(Above picture: my husband and I after getting into all our gear. I'm already a ball of nerves by this point.)

Once in the boat, we learned some basic rafting commands like All Ahead, All Back, Left Ahead, Left Back, Right Ahead, Right Back, Stop, and Dig.

The first rapid we encountered was a Class IV (4) waterfall that was a 13 foot drop. Our boat was 16 feet long so our guide said theoretically, we shouldn't tip.

NOT TRUE. 

We went down the rapid, heard the call for DIG and paddled our little hearts out. (Did I mention our boat was full of BEGINNERS??!!) From what our friends described, the back of the boat was sucked in, the front lifted up into the air, and row by row, the people fell back onto one another like a domino effect. We all fell into the waterfall. It was a minute or so before I popped up. I got caught in the current of the waterfall, tumbling around underwater. I thought I was going to run out of air before I popped up. Amazingly enough, I did remember to hold onto my paddle (dully instructed if you were to fall in). I popped up panicked but saw my friend's dad calmly floating on his back with his feet up and I remembered that's what I was told to do if I fell in. So we floated until our guide yelled for us to swim back to the boat. It's considered a Class IV (4) rapid without consequence. That means that there was calm enough water that we were able to swim back to the boat. Our guide told us the thought was to start out with that rapid so that if someone freaks out, they can take them right back to shore before the REAL rapids start. "Oh great, dump them in the waterfall and give them nightmares." as the rest of my crew laughs at my joke. "No Cristine, that's just you." my friend joked right back. Little did she know... but more about that later...

We were all cold from the wind chill and slightly scared, I think. I know I certainly was! The rapids seemed to build in intensity as we went and by the time lunch time came, I was terrified. I didn't know if I wanted to go for the second half of the rafting. My friend's dad and his dad's girlfriend (who have been rafting before) decided they were tired and didn't want to go on the second half. He's a big guy and was the lead on our boat! If he doesn't want to go, I shouldn't go! I'm about 110 pounds soaking wet!! He said they were tired and he knew they needed strength to paddle through those Class V rapids ("They're INN- TINSE!" he said in his Indiana drawl), plus he thought the boat would be dumped at least 2 more times and he didn't want to go "swimming" in that water! My husband and friend were telling me to stay on shore if I was doubting myself. My other friends were using the ever effective tactic of peer pressure, albeit lovingly; "You came all this way, You paid all that money, You can do it, You need about as much strength and endurance as you did to birth a baby." I looked right at the guide and loudly proclaimed: I will birth 15 babies right now, on the spot, if you can just promise me I won't fall out of the boat.

I debated right until the very last second.

I was gonna do it. My reasons for doing so weren't good at all but I was gonna do it.

My reasons:

• I did come all this way. 
• I did pay all this money. 
• I'll be mad at myself for chickening out if it really wasn't that bad. 
• I don't wanna be labeled as the chicken of the group. 
• If my 65 year old patient can go white water rafting with her grandkids, I can do it. 
• If she can do it, I can do it. 
• I'll feel really good about myself for overcoming my fear. 
• Anthony was going. I didn't want anything to happen to him and not know. 
• If I go, at least I'd be right there in the thick of things and know exactly what's going on with my husband. 

Like I said, stupid stupid reasons.

We're carrying the boat to the launch site and our guide says, "You guys have to paddle paddle paddle! If you all quit and don't paddle through the rapid, I AM F***ED!" Hmmm, nice. Great way to motivate the team. The water level was much higher and fiercer than normal. Our guide said it was 3200 cfs. I didn't know what that meant so he said 3200 cubic feet per second. Imagine 3200 basketballs being pelted at you all at once. That's the sheer force of the water.

The launch site was much more difficult than normal. Apparently there was more rushing water than usual so instead of having a practice period to go over all our commands again, we were immediately thrust into Class IV (4) rapids. If you knew me, you'd know I don't really swear. The only way I can think to describe exactly how I felt is to say

I was SCARED. OUT. OF. MY. MIND.

I was scared sh**less. I was terrified that the sheer force of the waves pounding us would be enough to knock us out of the boat. As soon as I had that thought, I grabbed the rope for support. We made it through those rapids with our guide cheering and shouting ALL AHEAD. I continued to paddle with everyone else even shouting his commands so everyone in front could hear. I was told that night, nobody in front could even hear what the guide was shouting. 

I had only been looking down while I paddle and I looked up. What lied ahead was a sight to see. 

ROARING RAPIDS. 

RUSHING WATER EVERY WHICH WAY. 

ROCKS JUTTING OUT EVERYWHERE.

ALL AHEAD! our guide shouts. DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG! I'm trying, I'm trying. I'm terrified! I see a huge wave coming. Forget this, I'm grabbing the rope!! 

(Above picture: I am in the back near the guide diving for the rope. As you can see, the force of the wave was enough to come and scoop out the 3 guys in front. The one in front of me is my husband Anthony.)

Little did I know that that wave had already taken out the first three people in our boat, two of whom were of "Leaders," meaning they were in front and we were supposed to follow them paddling. Before I could even get a good hold on that support rope, the right side of the boat lifted and the entire crew (minus the guide) was "dump trucked" into the Class V rapids. 

(Above picture: all of our feet sticking straight up in the air as we fell into the Class V rapids.)

The only other girl on the boat popped up close enough to be pulled in. When I popped up, the guide was shouting GRAB MY PADDLE! GRAB MY PADDLE! He knew how terrified I was. He put me in the back of the boat so he "could watch me" as he put it. As I frantically reached for his paddle, I kept thinking, he's pale and looks stricken. If HE looks like that, this MUST be bad. 

(Above picture: the guide extending his paddle as I frantically swim to reach it. I didn't know at the time that my husband and our friend were behind me.)

I grabbed the T shape of the paddle but didn't have a strong hold. We were separated by the many currents. I looked forward and saw a gigantic rock and thought, I'm going to slam into this rock and be crushed by the pounding water on my back. 

(Above picture: separated from the guide in a matter of seconds, I was thrown up against the rock. The picture was taken before my husband, our friend, and I got separated by the currents. Not shown: the guide blowing the emergency whistle)

I didn't slam into it too hard (thankfully) but the water did pound my back. I can't stay here. I didn't have a choice. The water rushed me away. I was pushed down by the current and hit so many rocks. SO. MANY. ROCKS. I finally popped up and you're first instinct is to tread water. You CAN'T tread water. There are too many currents and you'll be sucked back down again. You have to float on your back and attempt to keep your nose and toes above water. I saw bystanders on the shore watching us, I saw a professional photographer. I'm thinking HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! 

I remember thinking, "Jeez, all these people look the same: stricken. This must be bad." I hear a gurgling and someone gurgling my name, "CRIS *bluubbb gurrrgggggg*" I look to my left and there's my husband, drowning next to me, not even 3 feet away, reaching his arm to me. And I can't save him. I can't even save myself. Once you're dumped into the rapids, it's every man for himself. You can barely even attempt the few survival tactics they teach you, let alone try and save someone else. You'll end up killing both of you. 

I look and in front of me, not even 2 feet, maybe a little less, is shallow water right up on the shoreline. I can see the little rocks and pebbles and know that if I can just make it there, I'll be ok. I tried with all my might to swim to it but I was caught fighting against the currents. But if I can just make it to the shallow water, I'll be ok... The photographer is yelling at me, NO! Keep your feet up! FEET UP! Around the corner! Around the corner! What the hell do I care what's around the corner, SAVE ME NOW! 

Anthony and I didn't have a choice. The currents swept us up like ragdolls and slammed us into more rocks and between these two cliffs. Apparently this is what the photog meant by around the corner. The most beautiful sight I ever saw was the big yellow boats of the 4 or 5 other crews. Keegan, a guide on another boat, beamed me in the head with the saftey rope. It's a bag filled with about 70 feet of rope that comes out the further out it goes. It felt like simultaneously as I was pelted in the head with this bag, I was sucked under. I'm going to drown. I know it. I'm going to drown. My insides are screaming JUST LET ME FIND THE ROPE! PLEASE! 

Here I am, sucked under water with the sinking reality that I'm going to drown (pardon the pun) and I'm blindly feeling around for the rope. I GOT IT! I feel it tighten and I pop up! I was being pulled on my belly and basically being drown even more and I remember the training where they tell you to flip onto your back. As I flip onto my back, I see my husband come flailing into view. I try to extend my leg for him to grab, knowing in my subconscious that wouldn't work. Someone yells GRAB MY PADDLE and extends the wrong end of the paddle to him. Somehow he grabs it and holds on. We both get pulled into the boat, coughing up our lungs. Someone jokingly (stupidly) asks if we want to go back in and finish the tour. Anthony jumps up, pushing people in the raft out of his way, saying GET. ME. OUT. OF. HERE. He said a bunch of other things along the lines of this isn't fun, he almost drown, he never wants to go in the water again but I was still hacking up all the water so I didn't quite hear it all.

I sit up and ask WHERE ARE MY FRIENDS! Half of my friends were in my boat! Someone tells me the other girl in the boat is ok, I look and see her. Ok, she's ok. Where's everyone else??? And that's when I hear our two other guys are stuck on a rock. The guides were freaking out because they thought they were pinned between two rocks. Turns out they were just holding on for dear life! 

(Above picture: our two friends holding on for dear life to that rock.)

They ended up coming loose and being rescued. Hearing my crew was ok was such a relief! 

And that's when about 4 people got in my face and started questioning me. I don't know what you're saying, I don't care! I'm alive! I didn't drown! I feel like jelly! I'm shaking like a leaf! And then they start asking me about pain. Yes, my low back and hips hurt... Then they started freaking out about a possible spinal injury. I didn't think I had one but they were scaring me. They put a cervical collar on me, strapped me to a straight board (that hurt more than my back did!), and carried me through the woods like He-Men Barbarians. 

I WAS MORTIFIED!! I don't have a single shred of pride and dignity left. 

An awkward bus ride (where they put me on the board on top of the seats), an ambulance ride, an ER visit in which I had to argue with the nurses that they can strip me naked but NOT cut up my Under Armour shirt (it was expensive! Cut the rafting crap, I'm not paying a dime for that!), 260 x-rays, and 3 1/2 hours later, the Dr said I had a lower lumbar/thoracic strain. That means that in a normal person's spine, there is a nice, natural S curve. In me, once you hit about the low back all the way to the tail bone, it's as straight as a rod. The muscles reaction to the unnatural alignment is to tighten up to try and protect the vertebrae. So my muscles in my back and legs are spasming. That doesn't even count the sore ribs, shoulders, arms, and hands. Some of that is normal for rafting, not all of it though.

In the end, I survived, a little worse for wear, swam down Class V (5) rapids on the 3rd most technically difficult river in the country, earned my stripes, got the t-shirt, and have a heck of a story to tell.

(Above picture: my friend's dad bought me this t-shirt saying "WARNING! Contents may shift during transport, North Country Rivers, Maine." I plan to draw 2 more stick figures on it to represent the rest of my crew.)

(Above picture: Our rafting group right before we departed Maine.)

Epilogue:

I don't feel as if we were adequately prepared for white water rafting. We were so naive in thinking it was just getting in a boat and paddling through waves. It is SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT. It's falling out of the boat that is the most terrifying. You can't panic. You have to keep your cool otherwise you can't think clearly enough to remember the survival skills they taught you. 

Considering that half of our group was beginners, I personally don't think that choosing the 3rd most technically difficult river in the country was a wise idea. Even though the rafting company boasts no experience is needed and that anyone can raft, that's not wise. You learn to walk before you run. It only makes sense for beginners to work their way up to Class V rapids. Can you tell I wasn't the one who planned this trip? 

I'm positive that while the rest of my crew was scared, I am the only one who is still having residual issues about it. I'm having nightmares at night. The first few nights, I woke up thinking I was in the river drowning again. Now, it's like I know I'm going to have a nightmare so I don't sleep very soundly. I'm up almost every hour or two, getting out of bed. Last night, I woke up to my husband shaking me awake, raising his voice CRISTINE! Are you ok! CRISTINE you're hyperventilating! 

My husband is a very heavy sleeper so I can't believe that I was doing something so loudly that it woke him! 

I'm wondering if I would have had a different experience if I had gone rafting before I had Postpartum Depression. I really enjoyed thrill seeking, adrenaline pumping before I had my baby. And  I can't even take the shower water running over my face without my heart racing like I was in the river again! Add on the nightmares and I'm a shaking mess by morning! 

Anthony and I both agree, we would have had a much different experience if we had just stayed in the boat. It's a Catch 22 though. You have to paddle to get yourself out of the rapid otherwise you'll be sucked back in. But the sheer force of the waves coming in is enough toss you out of the boat. It's like a gigantic arm comes out of the water and scoops the crew into It's fist and drops you into the water. 

I'd raft on Class II and III rapids. That's a good place for beginners. But our friends want to go to a MORE difficult river next year. Unwise if there's such a large group of beginners again. But that's just my opinion. Anthony even says he'd raft again if he could just be promised that he wouldn't fall out of the boat. No one can guarantee that though. 

So what do I do? Make myself look like a sissy by voicing all my concerns? Surely, I'm the only one having issues like this. That runs the risk of being excluded from the trip next year. I definitely don't want that to happen. Keep it all pent up inside and risk that it gets worse? Don't say anything and go on a more dangerous river next year and possibly risk more injuries? I don't know thus I am sitting here blogging about it.