How about some swim stories/photos

[Guest]

I don’t have a lot of actual swim photos, I’m usually too busy collecting paddler, boat and yard sale gear, or occasionally hurling a throw rope. I do have a few after-the-swim photos from unthreatening situations.

Tom:

IMG004 by Mike McCrea, on Flickr

That was a large poler-heavy group trip down the SB Juniata, and more of an “Aggressive step out” than a swim; Mobey stayed in the canoe, as did most gear.

Tom and Mobey were snubbing sweep behind the group, and we gathered on the bank to await their delayed arrival. Tom decided this spectator gathering on the bank deserved a photo, and he had recently purchased a high-end digital camera. As he drifted sideways in the current to capture the perfect group photo angle someone remarked “Wow, he has really good balan. . . . .”

The photos on the card survived, the camera did not. From Tom’s camera perspective there is a level shot of folks on the bank, standing IIIIII, an oddly angled ////// shot of folks on the bank, and no more photos that trip

B. Spangler:

IMG011 by Mike McCrea, on Flickr

A Conowingo Pool group trip with Spangler, C2G and company. C2G was paddling some twitchy (Swift?) solo, and during a sandy bank leg stretcher Spangler asked if he could try it out. Note that Spangler made it all of 10 feet, 10 seconds and three strokes from shore in knee deep water. He came up smiling, until C2G mentioned that his GPS, which he had left attached but unprotected in the canoe A) wasn’t waterproof, B) was no longer attached, and C) did not apparently float.

C2G, that same day, after running the last little drop on Muddy Creek.

IMG019 by Mike McCrea, on Flickr

I actually have several C2G swim photos in that same place.

IMG020 by Mike McCrea, on Flickr

IMG024 by Mike McCrea, on Flickr

C2G repeatedly tried to run that drop, carrying to the top and trying again, and again, each time with the same results. He finally gave up after we heard the thunder of approaching aluminum, and a young couple in a Grumman bashed their way down the rapid. Backwards, with dog, cooler and fishing rods still in the canoe, desperately gunwale grabbing, but still upright.

C2G may have been dissuaded from further attempts when they bobbed past his swimming noggin, still floating backwards in the Grumman, and the sternman cheerfully hooted “Hell Yea!, Ya gotta be crazy to try this stuff”

The calm deep pool was at least the perfect place to practice boat rescues. A technique at which C2G, borrowing an upright canoe, proved quite skilled.

IMG023 by Mike McCrea, on Flickr

OK, truth be told, C2G was actually a very proficient paddler, boatworker and craftsman, he just didn’t give a crap. He ascribed to the “If you’re not swimming you’re not learning” adage. C2G was a lifelong learner. He had a couple swims so bizarrely memorable they really needed video to capture the full absurdity.

I may have an old 35mm print of the aftermath of a C2G swim, but it would not capture the full “Now watch closely ladies, this is how you exit an eddy into current” backstory.

Another by far most memorable C2G swim could have had fantastic photos, Even advancing 35mm film I would have had plenty of time to snap a few as he performed some impressive acrobatics before splashdown. But when I pondered “Camera or throw bag”, eh, I chose poorly.

An old favorite, a Gunpowder Falls trip with a cohort of polers.

IMG021 by Mike McCrea, on Flickr

IMG024 by Mike McCrea, on Flickr

Including DougD. Note Doug’s both-pinkies-extended poling style. Wicked elegant, must be a New Hampshire thing.

IMG013 by Mike McCrea, on Flickr

A short time later on that trip, Doug, mere minutes after exclaiming “I haven’t swum in 15 years”, waving hello New Hampshire style.

IMG022 by Mike McCrea, on Flickr

Can’t say that anymore, eh Doug?

++++

Dammit, I need to scan in some old 35mm prints; I have photos of the Missus, both my sons and a half dozen other folk swimming.

Including the Squatter sisters awash beside their overturned canoe, broadside to the only log in the river. They were pinned in place stationary for multiple photographer minutes, until they both leaned upstream and were instantly hit with multiple, perhaps too many, throw ropes.

 

[snapper]

My story is pretty unexciting but nonetheless, here goes...I was in the Adirondacks with my annual two week class that's held each year in late May. I had a student who got ill as we were traveling up Long Lake. She was OK for a bit but then her energy started to flag and eventually she threw up. I knew she wasn't going to be able to paddle much so we got the group together and transferred her from the one canoe into the bow of mine; my bow partner switched places and went to her spot. Now all of this was done in the middle of the lake without a hitch.

Not long after we arrived at the carry that near Deerland that leads up to Buttermilk Falls. I nudged my bow to the shore and asked another student to help the sick person out of my canoe. I was getting ready to put in a bracing stroke when apparently the student who was sick tripped on the gunwale on her way out of the canoe. When she tripped/stepped on the gunwale, the boat flipped and there I was in chest deep water in the third week of May! To say it was brisk would be an understatement. Thankfully there are a couple of lean-tos at this carry so we got the stoves out, boiled up some hot drinks, changed into dry clothes and took a long lunch break. In the end it wasn't too bad but I still remember the shock of hitting the water and finding myself tossed out of the canoe.

That's all for now. Take care and until next time....be well.

snapper

 

[ppine]

I swam a Class V rapid once on the Middle Fork of the American River in California. It was the notorious Tunnel Chute where miners blasted the rock with dynamite and rerouted the river around 1870. We were paddling with guides and wearing wet suits for the April snow melt. The approach to the rapid requires hugging the river right wall of rock. We hit some big hay stacks at the top and I was ejected off the forward tube into the aerated water. With 30 pounds of flotation, I was doing okay until the big reversal at the bottom after a drop. Suddenly everything got really cold and dark. I could not tell which way it was to the surface while getting thrashed around in a maytag. I was eventually flushed out the the bottom of the reversal, and then rocketed to the surface my head cleared the surface a good 4-5 feet. After puking some water, I got pulled back in the raft. Later around a campfire I learned that there was some exposed rebar in Tunnel Chute and met two guys that were servery mangled by it. One of them broke his leg.

 

[Turtle2]

Drove to the ADKs in october and launched on a beach on a wilderness lake early in the morning. carried my canoe to the shore and went back for my gear . When I got back with my gear my canoe was drifting out into the lake. It was a big lake and know one was around. I calculated how long it would take it to reach the opposite shore and the difficulty in hiking the thick rough shore to get there-not a good option. So I stripped naked and dove i and swam out and retrieved my canoe. the ait temp was app 35 and water real cold also. the memories still makes me shiver!

 

[frozentripper]

Most unusual swim was in Georgian Bay, Moon river basin, when a Great Lakes seiche caused the water level to rise overnight... the canoe had been dragged up onto the flat rocks to what seemed like a reasonable elevation above lake level. In the morning the lake level was higher and had floated the canoe away, Fortunately there was no wind to blow it away and a swim was needed to retrieve.

Great Lakes seiches are caused by wind piling up water at one end of the lake and if the wind suddenly abates the water rocks back and forth in the lake like water sloshing back and forth in a bathtub, except that the period may be several hours for each rise and fall.

In the Moon river basin the length and narrowness of the bay amplifies the rises and falls, like the Bay of Fundy amplifies tides.

Have been tying canoes securely to trees ever since... fortunately the one time it was necessary, the water was summertime warm.

No photos but a vid by someone else of an esp violent seiche... the poor quality makes it all the more mysterious... all that's missing is UFO appearing over the horizon (the best UFO vids are shot in poor quality, it seems).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=coRJpjNAhOQ

 

[yellowcanoe]

1973 BWCA. Made camp on a finally sunny day and spread out laundry on the rocks to dry. Canoe was up about three feet from the water on rock too and overturned.
It had been raining for days. Looked up . saw a wall of water coming.. Got in the tent. Had to hang on to the tent as it was collapsing from the wind. Lasted about 10 minutes. When it cleared we found the canoe had been blown off the rock and down the lake. Fortunately it was in a cove on the same shore so it was a shortish swim. The canoe was a 72 lb Grumman. Laundry was every where. Microburst.

Another time practicing FreeStyle in January. Had a drysuit on with insulation underneath. Fell out of boat but of course boat did not capsize but rather the wind caught it and kept it just out of reach for ten minutes.Until it hit a patch of ice which stopped it.


Most frightening going down a canyon with supposedly no portage on the Snake River in the Yukon. Several folks capsized and we got them out via throwbags though some of the clients did not grab my hubby when he got a paddler on the end. Hence he had to fall down chipping a bone in the arm. And with that he was unable to paddle with me down the short class IV ( glacial meltwater) rapids. I went with the assistant guide who got macho and fu ed the whole mess up. Over we went. I got in a hydraulic and got bronchospasm I could get air in but not out. Finally got a hold of a thrown bag on an upcycle. The guide was found downstream on a gravel bar and he was wiped out.

 

[Odyssey]

Our lives aren't nearly as exciting as the rest of the paddling population out there. Our swims reflect that I suppose. Slow and sedate best describes them. I've slipped in for a swim at beaver dams. Those sticks can be slick. All I kept thinking was "don't drink the water don't drink the water..." Take-outs can be clumsy affairs too. I just call it refreshing even in a downpour. Many things frustrate me but for some strange reason getting wet isn't one of them. I'm careful not to apply the same attitude to my wife. She's only fallen in once that I can remember. Oh gosh if I'd have had the courage I would've gotten it all on film.
Canoe Burlesque
Her in the bow serenely lily dipping as we made our way on a twisty stream in the soft rain when bump. We ran aground on a granite boulder. The stream was full of them both above and below the surface so it wasn't really a surprise. Not being able to dislodge ourselves was. I asked my wife to army crawl back towards me keeping as low as possible, thus lightening the bow. I don't mind telling you it was strangely stimulating watching her doing that soaking wet. She stayed still, splayed out across the gear facing me, while I paddled clear of the granite lurker and then to shore where she could try to get more comfortable back in the bow. I needed a cold shower. She climbed out on shore okay but struggled to get back aboard. Try as I might to keep the gunnel close to the bank I could only watch helplessly as she performed the splits (oh my yes) and ran out of canoe. She swam. Very unceremoniously. Eventually she dragged her soggy self aboard and we resumed play. Pretty sure I could see the steam coming off her as we completed that stretch of river. I was needing my 4th cold shower at this point. It was best we didn't talk about the whole misadventure for the remainder of the trip. And I am told it shan't be repeated. Thinking about it still gives me chills.

 

[duNord]

A friend and I went on a guided "week of rivers" trip in Costa Rica several years ago. We were there around Christmas time, which is supposed to be the dry season. However, this year the rainy season was extended and it rained a lot. Our warm-up run was on the Pejibaye River which is normally a scenic class II, but with the heavy rains it was a raging torrent. I put on and peeled out and within about 50 yards I flipped and went for a hellaciously long swim (my friend swam too). Our safety boater was eventually able to pull me to shore where I then sat puking up water and catching my breath. My boat (a rented Mad River Outrage X) was long gone.

As I was walking down the shore looking for my boat I passed through a coffee plantation where I was attacked by two guard dogs. Fortunately I still had my canoe paddle to use to fend off the dogs. The dogs were lunging at me and barking like crazy. Our guide and safety boater were on the other bank of the river witnessing all this. They just shrugged at me as there was nothing they could do to help. I had two equally unappealing options, either continue to fend off the dogs with my paddle or jump off about a 15' bank back into the raging rapids. Then I remembered I had a whistle on my pfd so I started blowing that. Fortunately the proprietor of the coffee plantation heard my whistle blasts, so he came out of his house and called off the dogs. I was then able to continue on my way walking down the shoreline. Shortly thereafter a guided raft trip came by and I was able to catch a ride in a raft. We got lucky and we found my canoe a mile or so downstream.

 

[ppine]

There are some swim stories I would like to forget. My favorite one was in the Boundary Waters in 1985 on the Ontario border. By the third day, we were all speaking with a French accent and calling each other Jacque and Phillippe. I was dragging a couple of canoes with my brother along a creek with beaver dams in it. We perfected draggage instead portage. Phillipe was at the bow pulling a line. We were having a conversation about le castor and the fur trade. The water was about knee deep and we were slogging along. My brother takes one step and disappeared from view. His hat was floating on the surface. He quickly emerged, and we could not stop laughing. It makes me laugh to think about it 35 years later.

 

[Chip]

When I paddled with the Baltimore Canoe Club, I was a repeat winner of the "first swim of the year" award, which was a swimming trophy. I usually swam on Jan 1, so I was tough to beat. I should have lots better photos and stories than I do, but it is hard to get a photo of yourself when you are head over gunwale.

My actual favorite story is from 2020. My buddy Steve and I were on a familiar stretch of river and it was getting close to the end of the day. It was March, so still chilly. Just shy of the take out, we pulled into an eddy and Steve announced he was tired of waiting for apres-paddle happy hour, and extended his paddle (social distance), with a shot glass full of scotch. I think we were in the middle of a second or third shot when I told Steve "I don't think canoeing and liquor is a good mix."

To say Steve is loquacious is an understatement. He talks a lot, and he usually uses way too many words and elaborate constructions. Instead of "let's drink," he'd say something like "one might consider that under the circumstances after paddling all day, one could possibly have developed a thirst that makes me think a drink is an appropriate action." When we disagree, he usually wins the argument based on sheer volume of commentary. I just give up so we can talk about anything else.

So after my comment on canoeing and liquor, I wasn't surprised when he started to drone on why it was a good idea. Just then I heard his paddle hit the side of his boat and turned in time to see him slowly rolling into the river. I think he hit an underwater snag and got off balance and into one of those positions where you know you going to capsize but it takes a little time for the canoe to complete its rotation. That was the shortest discussion ever!

So as not to disappoint, I do have a swim photo to share. First, the set up: A CII rapid on the Maury River (Virginia), and I'm dithering, a terribly ineffective poling technique, trying to decide if that next lump in the water is a wave or a rock.


Turns out it was a rock.

 

[Turtle2]

My most embarrassing swim was in a freestyle canoe class with 10 people watching

 

[ppine]

chip,
I used to raft with people that drank plenty. It makes people too brave. They start doing stupid things.

 

[bcelect]

https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.ne...=2a906e6e7bdfce30904a656a1517c605&oe=5F531D9A

Beaver dam 1, Bruce 0

 

[Guest]

My most embarrassing swim

I don’t think I could narrow it down to just one. Maybe my top three.

#1 My first serious WW swim, age 11 or so, paddling bow in my dad’s Grumman. We had elected to run a stretch of Deer Creek, a seemingly pastoral creek that we frequently drove across en route to the family cabin.

This was in the pre-guidebook days. Dad did not know that Deer Creek dropped over the Fall Line along our route. Gertler describes that sudden stretch “Deer Creek breaks through the hard, crystalline mass of Rock Ridge and rumbles down a short, violent series of narrow chutes. Considering the strong potential for broaching. . . . .” and etc.

Dad – I may have been involved as bow paddler - broached the canoe at the lip of the first chute, and snapped his paddle trying to pry us off. He commanded “Hand me your paddle and get out!”

I was a very obedient child. My trip down the chutes left me unscathed (it would probably kill me today). The bow popped up when I exited the canoe and Dad followed me down, dry and upright. I was not embarrassed until I climbed out of the pool at the bottom; there was a scenic pull off along the road at the chutes, lined with spectators. Who gave me a hearty round of applause.

I’m not sure why that was embarrassing that the time, but I felt a lot better after dad rewarded my blind obedience with a bag of M&Ms.

#2 Falling out of the Sockeye during a group gathering at Raystown. I was heading out for a sneak-away day paddle with a friend and, as we passed a group of folks paddling back to camp, one of them remarked about the novelty of the Sockeye. I boasted “I could pitch over dead in this boat and not fall out”.

That proved a stupid and untrue boast, even while still alive.

We paddled over to the cliffs and enjoyed some of his polyploid Amsterdam export that proved a wee bit too Indica strong for me. Paddling back to camp I became inexplicably fascinated with the water surface, slumped over sideways, kind of slowly and inexorably seeing the surface getting closer and closer to my face until I had an excellent underwater view.

Yes, it is in fact possible to capsize the Sockeye, and I learned several valuable lessons; a swamped decked canoe is a huge PITA to empty, day tripping in decked canoes call for flotation bags, a full-to-the-brim KleanKanteen with no headspace will sink like a rock and, most importantly, don’t partake other folks overproof Indica.

The happy denouement was that, as I approached the camp a still dripping Jim Saulters, standing on the beach, bellowed “I FELL IN!”, and I responded “SO DID I!”. I miss Jim.

#3 Which was actually numbers three-four-five-six. I acquired a pristine Old Town Northern Light solo in trade. A strikingly beautiful kevlar canoe, 15’ long x 29” max beam, narrower still at the gunwales and waterline. With a relatively high seat, and an elliptical bottom.

It was a decent solo tripper when loaded with gear, but I could not stay upright on day trips. If I turned for a peek behind me I was swimming. If I hit an eddyline with less than an instant brace at the ready I was swimming. If I got a little sideways in open water waves I was swimming. If I grazed a submerged rock or log under the chines I was swimming. I know all of those risky conditions for saturated fact.

It was a frequent enough occurrence that there are no doubt friend’s photos of me, startled and sodden, swimming beside the overturned Northern Light.

Who needs photos; I was given an oil painting of me in that bemused and bobbing condition, which hangs proudly in my shop office

P8040016 by Mike McCrea, on Flickr

There are a number of things hidden in that painting, including fabrications and fantasy.

I was not actually wearing overalls that day, but was painted so-garbed to make clear to all that I was the subject. The paddler (and artist) in the background is wearing Mickie Mouse ears to illustrate his childlike innocence. Childlike yes, innocent, not by a long shot. Note that he is passing through (non-existent) gunwale-height WW while I am sadly swimming in barely rippled water.

The cherub soaring overhead represents our friend Dave, who is at best a fallen angel. Cherubic Dave is trailing a banner with sequential ideograms of me being dispatched from the Northern Light.

I sold the Northern Light to a guy (whom I first vetted for tender-canoe skills), for $500 and he drove away like he stole it, which at that price he kinda did.

 

[Guest]

Canube, screw the post deletions, let ‘er fly. I have nothing to hide. I is what I is.

The Sockeye at Raystown dump was not Topher, although he took the legs out from under me with a strain appropriately monikered “Train Wreck”. Wrecked my arse, I barely made it 20 feet to the chair and didn’t move a muscle for hours. Yeah, again, thanks but no thanks, that whole-body Indica stuff is not for me.

God bless Topher; he was up for anything, anytime, in any weather. Snowy strainer-filled winter run along an unfrozen dam release, helping eager rec boaters over the slippery obstructions? Sure, sounds like fun, why not.

IMG024 by Mike McCrea, on Flickr

The Allegheny trip you mentioned, with the sunken stainless steel tampon dispenser, remains one of my most memorable group trips. In part because I managed to be Last-Man-Standing one night, despite existing on a diet of nothing but Topher brownies and Guinness for 48 hours.

IRRC that was the trip with the melted aluminum “Cowboy Belt Buckle” still roasting hot in the coals next morning, and the trip on which Ed K received his “Nightswimmer” on-line handle. And many other episodes.

dang, I may have to go back to Allengany this low water fall; I still want that stainless steel tampon dispenser as a wall hung shop cabinet.

Whadda ya say Canube, separate social-distancing sites at Hopewell or Pine Grove this fall? I think we could manage some social distancing sites and perhaps even avoidance of fireside bottle or etc passing. BYOB or etc.

I need that laughter, and embellish tales oft-told. That stuff keeps me going.

 

[Guest]

Having confessed the particulars of my own embarrassing swims I now feel at liberty to describe the most memorable C2G swims I was privileged to witness.

C2G was actually a very proficient paddler, boatworker and craftsman, he just didn’t give a crap. He ascribed to the “If you’re not swimming you’re not learning” adage. C2G was a lifelong learner. He had a couple swims so bizarrely memorable they really needed video to capture the full absurdity.

#1 - We were doing a pre-race shakedown cruise on the upper Conowingo Pool. My niece Laura and her college roommate Loandra, both novice paddlers, were entered the next weekend’s Wye Island Race in “Women’s Tandem Rec Kayak”, paddling the then still tandem ’71 Sockeye in all its original glory. I thought they should have at least a little seat time in the boat before the race.

During the shakedown cruise we attempted an eddy hopping attainment between Upper and Lower Bear Islands. Paddling lead, nearly to the top, I had one section still to go when I realized the Sockeye would be hard pressed to make it up the last fast stretch, even if paddled by a steroid infused East German slalom pair. Not happening with Laura and Loandra.

I grabbed an eddy, C2G grabbed an eddy behind me, Laura and Loandra, further down, did likewise. I peeled out and, as I floated past, shouted “We are not making it all the way up this, lets head back down”.

C2G then said something like “OK ladies, watch, this is how you exit an eddy into current”.

In his defense I will note that C2G was paddling a Wenonah Voyageur that day. He peeled out, managing to instruct something like “Brace with your paddle and lean like thi. . . .” and produced the finest yard sale of the year. He even lost one never-recovered shoe.

Laura and Loandra looked at each other in abject “Like that?” horror as C2G floated past. And, after some nervous hesitation, came out of the eddy upright and dry, all on their own. And helped collect C2G’s errant gear.

FWIW – Laura and Loandra took in 1[SUP]st[/SUP] Women’s Tandem Rec Kayak that year, 3:05:49. They were the only Women’s Tandem Rec Kayak that year, but still. That repeated the previous year’s feat when my son and I took first in Men’s Rec Double with the Sockeye, 2:26:05. Our only two competitors-in-class that year both capsized in ship wakes on the Bay portion.

C2G took 3[SUP]rd[/SUP] that year in Men’s Solo Canoe, 2:36:28. Without swimming.

 

[Mason]

1980, about to graduate from college. I had been ww kayaking with my brother the last couple of years, and we headed to the Nolichucky River in Tenn/NC for my biggest challenge to.date. At the time, the sections we were to run were rated Class III to V, with several Class V drops at the start. I made the first, and swam the second, the boulders knocking out a footbrace on my 13'2"" fiberglass homemade Prijon Mark IV. The swim was tough, bouncing off the bottom and timing my breaths with the waves. Hit a wave, breathe out, come out, breathe in. I was thinking "a guy could get hurt doing this." I got back into my boat (with one footbrace) and continued on through the enjoyable class III and IV remainder. Well, further down the river I center-punched a boulder, spraining the ankle on the footbrace side as that's where all the force was absorbed. Again I continued a few more miles to the takeout, barely able to walk. The 6 hour drive back home, with me in the backseat with my ankle raised was memorable.

So, from that experience I learned you could get similar challenge paddling a canoe in safer (ie sub-class V) water. So, we paddled Hell's Canyon of the Snake River, myself in a 16' Penobscot, my partners in kayaks and rafts. There are several Class IV drops on the river, a couple of which I ran, one I cheated, and one I tried to cheat. So, I was cheating one, and went over a ledge i saw at the last moment. So, over the ledge I went into the hydraulic, broached. I braced and braced and braced, the boat bucked and bucked and bucked,. I tried my best to slip one end of the boat to the edge of the hydraulic so as to wash it downstream and to success. But, that didn't happen, and the river won. Luckily it wasn't much of a swim and the temps were high in the desert country, and friends were close.

 

[goonstroke]

This is me in a local race. I'd just paid some serious coin for that Zav, and I was not going to let go. I dumped near the top of the rapid, and it was a bit of a pinball machine on the way down. I did have a few bruises but nothing serious, and ahem, no gear lost.

 

[alsg]

Goonstroke for the win! There are some post swim photos in this thread but Goonstroke's is the only action shot so far!

 

[Guest]

Goonstroke, that is a wonderfully framed, “still have my paddle” salute. The swim photo I most regret not having taken was another C2G episode. And video would have been better. Much better. Essentially this, but with C2G standing in for the cat, with some unexpected gymnastics before splashdown.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hang_in_there,_Baby#:~:text=Hang%20in%20there%2C%2 0Baby%20is%20a%20popular%20catchphrase%20and%20mot ivational%20poster.&text=The%20original%20poster%2 0featured%20a,popular%20relic%20of%20the%201970s.

C2G and I were doing a high water run on the Gunpowder Falls. I came around a sharp bend in the river, probe cautiously keeping a bit away from the outside of the turn, when there too quickly appeared a 3” thick “sweeper” tree, resting horizontally several feet off the water, upper branches still in full leaf. My desperation, bad words said aloud escape around the edge involved a faceful of branches and morning spider webs, and a gunwale dipped too near the water.

I beached the canoe immediately, grabbed my throw bag and camera and ran to a spot that promised equal advantage for tossing a line or taking a photo. As C2G came around that bend on the outside of the curve he was too far right, just off the bank in the fastest current, and I knew he was going for a swim. I put the camera down and readied the throw bag. That was a mistake.

C2G at least avoided the leafy branches and spiders. He hit the bare trunk of that sweeper chest high just off the bank, in the fastest current, and grabbed it with both hands. The canoe, still upright, attempted to keep going and C2G, both hands grasping the tree, facing the sky, tried valiantly to hook it with his heels.

That proved ineffective and C2G performed a gymnastic stunt I would have thought impossible; still holding the branch he flipped around so he was still horizontal but now facing the water, and managed to hook the stern deck with his toes before the canoe got away.

And stayed hanging there for an impressive length of time, stretched out horizontal, feet still holding the stern of his canoe, before he decided there was no alternative but to let go.

I hit him with a perfect throw bag toss when he broke the surface. A perfectly unnecessary throw rope, he quickly corralled his canoe and waded it ashore unassisted.

I still kick myself for not having chosen the camera.