Upside-Down in the Nantahala River

This all took place maybe 25 years ago when I was just finishing up my midlife crisis. Even though I don’t have the barrel-chested physique of many kayakers I was very much into whitewater sport.

So, when a local canoe and kayak trip organizer invited me to go along to North Carolina to do Nantahala Falls, I jumped at the chance. It was comforting that there would be several others on the trip more experienced than me. 

My first duty was rope-man, wherein I was dispatched to a huge rock some twenty feet above the river. The idea was that I would throw a bagful of rope to canoes that were then full of water after going over the falls. Next, I would swing them into the shore.

My very first experience with that duty was somewhat less than successful. When the occupants of a swamped canoe grabbed my rope, they promptly pulled me right off my perch on the rock so that we were both in the water. Some rescue.

Well anyway, I got my brand-new boat and headed downriver for the Falls. The bow dipped down and over the Falls I went. I almost made it upright, but then the current knocked me over, and there I was helmeted head down in the freezing river and drifting toward the surging rapids.

Now you need to know that this new boat of mine was quite different from my old one which was more of a touring boat with a wide opening. It was easy to pop out of when I needed to…but not the new boat. With it, you had to shoehorn your way into it and then fasten a tight-fitting spray skirt around you to keep the water out. It did that all right, but it also fastened me in. As I was upside down and underwater, struggling to release the skirt surrounding me, I was coming to the conclusion that my time was rapidly running out.

Then all of the sudden the kayak and I were somehow righted and side-by-side with another kayak. I was gasping for breath and my upper body draped across the deck of the other kayak. A rescuer had come alongside, reached down. underwater, grabbed my collar, yanked me up, and righted my capsized boat. It took a lot of strength and skill to do that and not capsize himself. Afterward, when my heart had regained its normal pace, I set out to find my rescuer in order to thank him.

It was strange. I asked around, but no one seemed to know who it was.

Now, it’s entirely possible that he didn’t want any credit, just did what was right and moved on. So, was it luck, or coincidence or simply being at the right place at the right time that explains this experience? Could this be it: Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me…?

Who was there?