by Gary Hansen
Todd walked a few steps away from the spillway and lifted his radio to his ear. "There were a few big pieces of wall that didn't break up, but they fell over. The water will do the rest. Go ahead and blow your side."
A few seconds later Grant saw the dust shoot into the air on the other side. Todd headed for the diesel pickup "Come on, let's go see how that one looks." The workers piled into the back of the truck, while Grant and Fred squeezed into the front.
The hole on the Arizona side wasn't as clean. The left side was broken, but still hanging on by the rebar. There was a big piece in the middle also, with water rushing around it from both sides. But, Grant guessed the two obstructions were only impeding about twenty percent of the flow. Besides, the water pressure would eventually finish the job.
With the water flow on this side only slightly less than the other, and adding the two together, plus the twelve outlets in the canyon, Grant came up with a little over 250,000 cubic feet per second being dumped. He walked over to the hood of Todd's truck and took out a piece of paper. He borrowed a calculator from Todd. He multiplied the number by 60 twice to get cubic feet per hour, then divided it by a conversion factor to get acre-feet/hour. By this time, Fred, Todd and the workers had huddled around to see the result. He then divided the number by the total acreage of Lake Mead, 161,000 acres, which he got from Fred, then multiplied it by 18, the approximate number of hours until the flood arrived. He looked up.
"A little over two feet, maybe closer to three feet when you consider that the spillways will double as the water starts to rise." Grant got a couple blank looks from the huddle, so he continued. "The level of the lake, I was trying to figure out how many feet we are going to drop the lake before the flood arrives."
Grant saw that the group was largely unimpressed. They didn't get it. He completed the explanation, while looking straight into their eyes. "When a wall of water flows over the top of the dam for ten days straight, it will be three feet smaller because of what we just did. It might save the dam."
Many of them turned their heads toward to crest of the dam. Grant knew they were trying to visualize water flowing over it. When they turned back, a couple of them had mouths hanging open. He thought that they now understood.
CHAPTER 18
3:30 p.m. - Grand Canyon, Arizona
As the rafters and the two Germans approached the Colorado River, David noticed the second raft had just arrived. George was transferring his stuff from the other raft into Keller's. Keller was holding onto the ropes for his raft. As they walked closer, David could see that most of the sandy landing was now covered with water.
When Keller caught sight of the group, he called out to them. "Get over here. We gotta go." He seemed edgy.
The group came to life and started loading into the raft.
"What's up Keller?" said Judy.
"The water's rising fast. It must have risen almost ten feet in the last hour. I've never seen it rise this fast. We gotta get downstream and find a high campground." Keller's voice communicated near panic.
The other raft pushed off. They also seemed edgy. As David climbed into the boat, he remembered Ralph and Anna who were standing on what was left of the shore, staring at the now panicky rafters. "Keller, these two hikers we met at Elves are interested in one of your trips. Do you have a card or a flyer or something with a phone number?"
Keller didn't even look up at them. "coloradoriverfoam.com. All one word. The number's on the web site." He pushed off and the river current grabbed the raft and pulled it downstream.
David looked back at the Germans and waved. "Bye." Not the kind of goodbye he would have liked.
Ralph and Anna waved at them from the shore as the raft drifted downstream.
"Right side paddle. Left side paddle." Keller called out from behind.
* * *
3:35 p.m. - Lake Powell, Utah
Julie's feet were killing her. After forty-five minutes of hiking on wet rocks, they ached all the way up to her ankles. Erika was suffering too; you could see
it in her face. Both grimaced as they walked. Both had slipped on the wet rocks countless times, but neither complained. It wouldn't have helped. Julie vowed she would buy differently in the future when shopping for shoes. To hell with fashion. And most maddening was that Paul had not slipped or had any problems, even though he had the same flip-flops.
Julie was also nervous that they had not reached the houseboat yet. She could not help wondering if they were in the wrong canyon, or if Max and Darlene, had already moved the houseboat. What if they had already taken it downstream?
"There it is," Erika called from behind.
Julie looked up. She saw the houseboat still tied to the shoreline, resting on a steep patch of rocky ground about forty feet above the bottom of the canyon. It hung downward at a steep angle. There was no sign of Max or Darlene anywhere.
Paul cupped his hands "MAX? DARLENE?" but no one responded. "Where are they? I hope they're okay."
Julie was worried. Where were they? Darlene was not the type to wander. "MAX?"
Erika pointed at the houseboat. "Come on."
After a somewhat difficult climb up the steep muddy hillside, Julie reached out and pulled herself up next to the houseboat using one of the ropes dangling off the back. She felt the houseboat give slightly at her pull and immediately released the rope. It wasn't stable. Erika climbed up behind her and grabbed her arm. She was panting. Paul passed them both, climbing up to where the boat had been tied to the shore.
Julie and Erika maneuvered upwards to where Paul was standing. When they reached the top, Julie sat down in the shade caused by the front deck and looked back down in the muddy canyon. Erika sat next to her. Julie looked downstream and up, even up on the cliffs surrounding the small canyon, but saw no signs of the other couple.
"Where are they?" Julie asked.
Paul shrugged. "I wonder if someone already picked them up."
"Maybe they left a note or something," Julie said hopefully.
Paul motioned to the two women. "Let's climb up and start gathering everything together. We can look around and see if there's a note or something."
Erika nodded.
Paul grabbed one of the lines tied to the shore and hoisted himself up. The houseboat shifted with a loud groan. He dropped back to the ground and backed up a few steps. "That's not going to work. How bad do we need that stuff anyway?"
"My wedding ring is in there," Erika argued. "I'll climb up."
Paul looked at her apprehensively. "Don't be stupid Erika, it's not safe."
Erika walked over and tested the ropes that held the houseboat to shore. The first rope was tight enough to not budge when she pulled on it, the second almost the same. She crouched down and looked under the boat, where the two pontoons sat on the rocky ledge. "I think it's okay."
Paul walked behind her. "You're not going. If anyone is going I'll do it."
Erika walked over to the side of the boat and put her hands on it, dug her feet, and shoved. The boat didn't move. She wedged herself against it and shoved again. Nothing. She glanced at her husband. "I'm lighter, I'm going to do it."
Julie protested. "Wait. Let's think about this for a second."
Erika shook her head. "It'll be okay. I'm the lightest. And we have to look for a note from Max or Darlene. We can't just leave them."
Paul nodded reluctantly. "Okay, but if something happens, be ready to jump off."
Paul clasped his hands together to make a step for Erika. She put her foot in and climbed onto the deck. The houseboat creaked loudly, which made Julie's heart stop, but the vessel didn't move. Erika stood, ready to dive off if necessary. They all hesitated for an instant, before Erika headed inside.
"Leave the door open while you're in there," Paul yelled. "Actually, try to leave all the doors open. Leave yourself an escape route, and be ready to jump if it starts to move."
Julie called out a list of all the things they needed, starting with car keys, wallets,
a cell phone, and a few pieces of clothing. Based on the hike up the canyon, they needed better shoes for the hike down. Since there was some probability of spending the night outside, they needed blankets. Julie tried to describe as best as she could the location of each item on her list, based on what she could remember.
"I can't find your truck keys."
Julie looked up. "Did you try Greg's shorts?"
"Yeah."
"And on the hutch next to the bed?"
"Hang on. I found them. They were on the floor next to the hutch."
Erika appeared and handed both sets of keys, wallets, purses, an armload of clothes, and Julie's tennis shoes to them. She then went back into the boat.
Paul yelled inside. "That's enough. Get out of there."
Erika returned with an armload of blankets and pillows. She dropped them to Paul, then went back into the boat. "I'm looking for some shoes for me. I'm not going to--"
The houseboat shifted slightly with a loud screeching noise from the metal pontoons on the rocks. Julie heard Erika scream from inside and a thud that sounded like her falling down. One of the ropes holding the boat snapped and fell slack.
"Get out of there!" Paul screamed.
No response.
"Erika? Are you okay?" Julie called out.
The last rope vibrated with tension. The houseboat shifted again with another loud screech. It wouldn't last much longer.
"ERIKA!" Paul screamed.
The second rope let go. The houseboat started to slide. Through her scream, Julie saw a motion through the door of the houseboat. The houseboat fell, but a running Erika dove headfirst off the boat onto the sand like a baseball player sliding into second. She hit the ground hard completely stretched out on her front side. Julie heard a loud groan when Erika landed.
The houseboat picked up speed fast and fifteen feet down, one of the metal pontoons dug in and the momentum caused the houseboat to roll over in one swift motion. After that, it rolled a few more times, leaving small pieces along the way. It hit a rock outcropping and lost one of the pontoons. It hit the next rock dead-on and the whole thing disintegrated, debris shooting in all directions. The pieces all came to a stop at the bottom.
Stunned, Julie stared at the rubble for a second before kneeling by her friend. "Are you okay?"
Erika lay on her stomach. She pulled one of her arms out from under her and lifted herself up. She had a bloody splotch on her forehead and her cheek. In spite of her condition, she smiled. Her voice came out broken and soft like someone who had the breath knocked out of her. "I got 'em," she said, and she held up her tennis shoes.
A sound came from behind them "Hello!"
All three of them looked up the canyon to see where the sound had come from. They saw Max and Darlene running toward them.
* * *
4:00 p.m. - Grand Canyon, Arizona
After two days on the river, David had learned that water levels varied daily. Supposedly, these changes were caused by adjustments at the Glen Canyon Dam, even though it was over a hundred-thirty miles upstream. Some mornings when they awoke, the water could be as much as five feet higher than the night before. However, David had never seen Keller nervous like he was at Elves Chasm. Keller said he didn't remember ever seeing it rise that fast. After that, Keller hadn't spoken much since they pushed off. He kept scanning the banks of the river as if he were looking for something. In all the days on the river, David had seen many emotions from Keller, but never fear.
As the raft came around the next bend, they could see white water ahead. Judy pointed at it. "Keller, what's this one called?"
Keller craned his neck around. "There aren't supposed to be any rapids here. Something must have . . ." Keller then yelled to the guide in the other raft. "What happened here?"
The other guide yelled back, "Nothing. The water is just way higher."
Keller looked at Judy. "I've never seen this much water in the river. Usually, this section is calm." He looked upstream nervously. "They must be doing some kind of experimental dump up at the dam.
"What do you mean experimental dump?" asked Afram.
Keller motioned upstream. "In the early nineties, a politician from Arizona, think his name was Babbitt or something, made 'em open the gates at GlenCanyon for a couple weeks to stir up the silt in the river. They were trying to restore the sand on the banks. Maybe they're doing it again." He shook his head. "Although, you'd think they'd have said something." He looked confused. "It's going to make it tough to find a camp site."
Judy got an excited look on her face. "You've never seen it this high, right? So if this experimental dump lasts for a few days, does that mean we're going to have the best white water you have ever done Keller?"
All eyes were on Keller.
"Yeah, I guess so. This is higher than I've ever seen it." He shrugged. "It'll definitely make for good whitewater, but right now we need to find a campsite."
David wasn't good at reading Keller, but he didn't need to read minds to see that Keller was nervous.
* * *
4:30 p.m. - Hoover Dam, Boulder, Nevada
Back inside the visitor center, Grant, Fred, and Shauna sat over by the large windows looking over the canyon. They could hear the governor talking on his cell phone. Shauna stood, and asked Fred where the restrooms were. He motioned down the hall. Fred and Grant waited in silence for a moment before Grant spoke.
"What's going on at Davis and Parker Dams?"
Fred looked nervous. "Not enough. I told them what you told me, to open everything, but they wouldn't hear it. They wanted more time."
Grant looked pleadingly at Fred. "Look, I've never been to Davis, so I'm not too familiar with it. What's the flow capacity of its spillways?"
Fred looked at his watch, as it if the answer were inscribed on it, then looked back up "I'm not exactly sure, but I think Davis can handle around the same as Hoover, 75,000 cubic feet per second through the water works and another 400,000 through the spillways."
Grant furrowed his brows. "That's not enough." He hesitated for a moment. "It won't be able to keep up. It needs to be more than Hoover. When water starts going over the top of Hoover, Davis won't be able to dump fast enough. LakeMojave's water level is going to rise like crazy."
Fred held out his hands. "What can we do about that?"
"Well there's going to be some flooding on the banks. The water will definitely go over the dam. We'll just have to hope she holds."
Fred got a terrified look on his face. He spoke so softly that Grant barely understood. "Davis is a landfill."
"What?" That didn't jive with what Grant remembered. "I've never been there, but I've seen pictures of the structure. I thought --"
Fred shook his head. "It's definitely a landfill. The water works are concrete, and so are the spillways, but the levy creating the dam is rock and dirt. It definitely can't be breached. Overtopping would break it in five minutes. It'd drain LakeMojave."
Grant remembered an aerial picture, taken at night, of Davis Dam and the Casinos downstream. The concrete waterworks were off to the side of the earth dam. "Damn! What about Parker downstream, it's definitely concrete, right?" Grant remembered Parker Dam. Parker was a semi-circle shaped concrete arch dam wedged into a tight canyon.
Fred nodded. "Parker is concrete, not a landfill."
"That's good, but it probably doesn't matter. It wouldn't hold if Davis busted upstream, and LakeMojave drained into LakeHavasu. Would it?"
Fred rubbed his eyes. "LakeMojave is almost three times bigger than LakeHavasu. The flood would definitely bust Parker."
Grant sat back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling. According to simple math, Davis Dam could not keep up with the water coming out of Hoover, even if only a foot of water went over the top of Hoover Dam. The water flow would overwhelm the output capacity of Davis Dam. He slowly looked up at Fred and held out his hands. "We can't save Davis, can we?"
Fred shook his head. He had obviously come to the same concl
usion.
Grant slouched back into his chair. "How big is LakeMojave?" Grant's voice was lifeless.
"Just over a half a trillion gallons. A little over five percent the size of Lake Mead."
"And LakeHavasu is only a third of that?"
Fred answered without hesitation. "Yeah, only a couple hundred billion gallons."
Grant thought it over. "Well according to the report from the Bureau, the water probably won't breach Hoover until tomorrow morning. Figure a couple more hours after that before LakeMojave rises high enough to bust Davis. I'd say by noon tomorrow, we're looking at the second biggest flood in North America since the ice age."
Fred stared at Grant with a confused look. "What's the biggest?"
Grant pointed out at Lake Mead. "The one that's already headed our way from GlenCanyon."
Fred's eyes glazed over. "Oh yeah. I forgot about that one."
Grant sat up. "Hang on." He stood and looked downstream as if he could see all the way to Davis Dam. "If Davis is going to collapse anyway, why don't we turn it loose early, before the water gets down here?"
Fred wasn't following. "What do you mean?"
"We could get a couple bulldozers up on the dike and dig a little trench. All we'd have to do is get it started. The water would finish it"
Fred caught up. "You mean bust Davis ourselves? Break open the dam? What good will that do?"
"It'll spread out the damage a little. The water we let go, will be a lot less than LakeMojave tomorrow at noon when it's ready to overflow."