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Wet Desert: Tracking Down a Terrorist on the Colorado River

Page 22

by Gary Hansen


  Julie didn't like the sound of what she heard. Wahweap was the largest of the three primary marinas, and the only one on the south end of the lake for fifty miles. It was where the Crawford's car and boat trailer was parked.

  "What does that mean?" Julie asked her husband.

  "Well, it's bad, but we knew that would happen. It means if we want to go back to Wahweap, we have to go all the way around AntelopeIsland, right past the dam," He grimaced. "what's left of it."

  Julie shivered at the thought. Wahweap Marina was not built on the edge of the river, but on a large bay named WahweapBay that branched off of the river. To travel up lake from Wahweap, boaters avoided the main channel, instead taking a shortcut through a shallow gap next to Castle Rock Butte into WarmCreekBay. Whenever the water in LakePowell dropped low enough, Castle Rock became impassable, and everyone was forced to go the long way, an additional twenty miles down the windy main river channel, around AntelopeIsland, and then back into WahweapBay. The entrance to WahweapBay was only a mile from the Glen Canyon Dam.

  Greg had told her that in the early days, while the lake was still filling, the only possible route was the long way around Antelope. But after the lake filled and flooded between the two bays, a shortcut was born, and AntelopePeninsula became AntelopeIsland, and all traffic immediately diverted, leaving the main river channel and the backside of Antelope largely unused. Exceptions occurred in the late summers of dry years, when the water dropped low enough to force everyone around again. In these years, the park service sometimes dredged Castle Rock Channel to delay the inevitable detour as long as possible.

  Although Julie was concerned about the time that would be lost on the detour, the danger of passing so close to the dam was her main concern.

  She questioned her husband. "Won't that be dangerous? Aren't you afraid we'll get sucked over the dam if we get that close?"

  Greg nodded. "Yeah, sure." He turned back to the bearded guy. "How fast is the water moving down there, aren't they afraid some of these boats are going to go over the dam?"

  The man motioned with his beer can. "Well, first of all, the rangers ain't sayin nothin on the radio. I'm getting my info from other boaters. But yeah, for a while they were making all the houseboats divert into WarmSpringsBay. Course nobody wanted to just wait in the bay till they got grounded, so it sounds like they stormed the ranger boats or something, cause now the rangers aren't tryin to stop em no more."

  Paul stood up on the bow. "Did you hear whether any boats went over the dam?"

  He shrugged. "Nah, I ain't heard of any. Course I imagine that they wouldn't be talkin on the radio much if they was getting sucked over the dam." The guy chuckled at his own humor.

  Greg seemed perplexed. "So you say that for all practical purposes, the radio is silent from the rangers?"

  The bearded man motioned with his beer again, causing some to spill out. "This morning, they was all over the radio, telling folks the dam broke, but to stay put, ya know, not rush back to the marinas. But every time they said to stay put, about a million people would try to talk to 'em at once. You couldn't understand nothin. Everybody wanted to know when they'd get rescued and everything. Finally, I bet most started worryin how they was going to get their boats up seven hundred feet up sheer rock onto their trailers to go home. They figured the rangers didn't have a plan for that yet. And they was right. You sit around too long and your boat is gonna be high and dry. Then if ya ever get out alive, you're gonna hafta hike fifty miles back to visit your boat next year. Cause if you don't move it now, it'll be there forever, and the Indians'll be painting teepees and deer on the side of it."

  Julie grimaced at the comment.

  He continued and motioned around at the mass of boats with his beer can. "Just like me, all these people said to hell with the rangers. If ya want to get out a this bathtub before it drains, ya gotta get out now, while the gettin's good."

  Julie noticed that while he had been talking, his red boat had been creeping forward in relation to the Mastercraft, and another boat was sliding forward to replace it. Ironically, Julie had a knack for always picking the wrong line at the grocery store, the bank, or even on the freeway, but why did it have to happen here? At this rate, it could take over an hour to get around the bend, and then how many more bends would there be beyond this one?

  Somebody from another boat asked the bearded man a question that Julie couldn't hear and he walked to the other side of his boat to answer. Julie glanced back at the people in the boat that replaced him. The guy driving the new boat tipped a blue hat stenciled with the letters 'BYU.'

  "Where you guys from?" he asked.

  Greg pointed at Paul. "They're from Southern California." He pointed at himself and Julie. "And we're from Phoenix." He pointed to Max and Darlene. "And they're from Las Vegas. How about you?"

  The man didn't have to answer for Julie to know they were from Utah. The friendly looking guy's t-shirt was also stenciled with 'BYU.' A very petite wife, who's skin looked so white and pasty that it was obvious she never got out in the sun, sat in the other front seat, and five kids, including a couple of teenagers, were sitting on a pile of bags and suitcases stacked in the back of the boat. The teen-agers were unusually clean-cut with no goofy hair, tattoos, or piercings.

  The man pointed north. "We're from Provo, just south of SaltLake. We come down here every year for a week. At least we used too. Doesn't sound like we'll be back next year."

  "You guys have a houseboat?" Paul asked.

  "Had one. It's grounded upstream in one of the canyons. We came back from water-skiing and found it sitting on some rocks. We tried to pull it back in the water with the boat and a water ski rope. All we accomplished was to break the rope. How about you guys?"

  Greg explained. "We were headed back from Hole in the Rock this morning, when we figured out something was wrong. We had to get gas at Dangling Rope, and then we had to hike a couple miles up the canyon to find our houseboat. We were trying to get some stuff out of it when it slid down the hill and broke to pieces. We're a little bit worried about the deposit."

  "Thank heavens for insurance." The man grinned.

  Julie wondered if the Utah man was an insurance salesman.

  Paul continued. "We just hope it's covered. This is one sequence of events we didn't count on when we signed the waiver."

  As they talked to the Utah man, she noticed that they were drifting ahead of him. Maybe they picked the right line after all.

  * * *

  5:45 p.m. - Grand Canyon, Arizona

  David and Afram were positioned on the front of the raft. Both had coils of rope in their hands.

  "Get Ready!" said Keller.

  Since they had been unsuccessful at beaching the raft, the plan was for David and Afram to try to jump onto the beach and pull the boat in by the ropes. It had been Afram's idea. Keller had initially resisted, but had finally caved when they missed two more potential landing spots.

  "Right side paddle. Left side paddle," Keller yelled, as he tried to position the raft close enough to the shore for them to jump.

  "We're down two paddlers," Sam complained. "and our arms are dead."

  David looked back at Sam. It was unusual to hear him complain, but his face looked pale and sweat ran down his forehead. Becky looked even worse.

  "Get ready." Keller said. "Paddle! Come on."

  David could see the transition from rocks to sand up ahead. It looked like they might be close enough this time. He adjusted the rope in his hands and re-checked the bottom fastener on his life jacket, just in case.

  "Okay, everybody paddle hard. Let's get em as close as possible," Keller encouraged.

  David watched the sand approach, faster than he wanted.

  "Ready . . ." Keller called out. "Set . . ."

  David put his foot up on the edge of the rubber boat, ready to jump.

  "GO!"

  David thought he was ready, but Afram jumped an instant before, which jostled the boat just enough to make
David's foot slip on the slick rubber. The result was a pitiful head first plunge off the front of the raft which immediately ran over him. The cold water shocked him, and he resisted the impulse to gasp for air. When he popped up, he was under the raft and rammed his head into the bottom. However, while he was under the raft his feet found sand. It was shallow. He let the boat pass over him and he tried to stand, but the current was too strong. He pushed toward shore with his feet. He saw that Afram was up on the shore now, trying to pull the rope. Everyone in the raft was looking at Afram.

  David pushed toward shore until he could stand. Then he quickly ran through the shallow water up onto the beach.

  "Pull, David. Help him." It was Keller's voice.

  David pulled as hard as he could, but he realized immediately that he and Afram would never be able to pull the boat against the strong current. It was pulling both of them at a fast walk toward the rocks at the other end of the beach.

  "Dig in when I tell you." Afram said over his shoulder.

  David leaned back even more and prepared to dig in.

  "Now!" Afram said.

  David dug in his heels and saw Afram do the same, but they were both pulled vertical immediately. David saw large rocks ahead and knew that the whole effort had been in vain. He wondered how he and Afram would get back in the boat. Then while looking at the rocks he saw something. He stopped pulling, letting his rope go slack.

  "Hey, what are you -"

  David crossed under Afram's rope and ran toward the rocks. "Come on," he said.

  Afram figured out what he was doing and followed.

  When David reached the rocks, he wrapped the rope around a large rock twice. Afram did the same on another rock. Not a second later both ropes were pulled tight, but they held. In the water, the raft stopped with a jerk and slid quickly over against the rocks. The others in the group yelled their approval and climbed out of the raft onto the rocks. A moment later Keller and Sam reached them. Together the four men were able to pull the now empty raft back upstream and onto the sandy beach. David collapsed on his back in the sand.

  "You kinda did that the hard way, didn't you?" Judy smiled at him from above. "That whole under the boat thing was planned, right?"

  David laughed. "At least we made it, and we're safe."

  Not if the water gets any higher." Keller said. He pointed at the beach where they had just landed. They all looked. If the water rose another twenty feet, the sand would be underwater, and then they would be floating in a small canyon with vertical rock walls on all sides.

  * * *

  5:50 p.m. - Hoover Dam, Arizona

  "You want to do what?" The governor put his hands on his hips.

  "We want to extend the height of the dam another twenty feet." Grant pointed out at the concrete dam.

  "What good is that gonna do?"

  Grant tried to choose his words carefully. "Governor, we're in a dry year. Luckily both Lake Mead and LakePowell are lower than usual. The Bureau's study in 1998 assumed both lakes would be full, as a worst case. We've run some new numbers based on the newly opened spillways and the extra capacity available in Lake Mead. If we're right, only about ten or fifteen feet of water will end up going over the top of Hoover."

  The governor's eyebrows furrowed as he tried to understand the reasoning. "That's good, isn't it?"

  "Yeah. It means that the overtopping won't be as bad as I originally told you."

  "Then why do we need to do anything?"

  Grant started ticking off his fingers. "Two reasons, governor. First, even ten feet going over Hoover could still break it apart. Second, even ten feet would definitely take out Davis Dam downstream, and Parker too."

  The governor' s face lost some color and he wiped his hand across his forehead. "If the water breaks though Davis Dam, LakeMojave's going to drain out and flood Laughlin?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Hell, most of the casinos are below the lake. It'd wipe em out. Laughlin would be obliterated."

  Grant knew Laughlin's casinos were going to be destroyed either way with all the water that would be going downstream, whether or not Davis Dam failed. But, he didn't want the governor to worry about that yet. "Exactly, governor."

  "That's billions of dollars." He looked at Grant and his voice changed from bewildered to harsh. "What makes you think Davis's gonna break? How can you be sure?"

  "It's a landfill dam, governor. It can't withstand overtopping."

  The governor looked as if his home had just fallen into the ocean. "So what are you guys suggesting?"

  Grant jumped back into the conversation. "We think if we can build up the top of Hoover Dam by another twenty feet, we can hold the flood water in Mead. And save Davis and Parker." The tone came out almost pleading.

  The governor looked confused. "Is there enough time? The concrete wouldn't even have time to set."

  "We're not going to build it with concrete. We're going to build a landfill dike on top of Hoover."

  Fred looked at Grant with a questioning expression. "Landfill, do we have enough space?"

  Grant grabbed a piece of paper off the table and turned it over so he had a blank sheet. He drew a cross section of a dike. When he graduated in civil engineering and joined the Bureau over fifteen years ago, he'd had high hopes of designing huge engineering marvels like Hoover and Glen Canyon Dams. Finally he would build his first dam. With the governor and Fred looking over his shoulders, he estimated that he would have at least thirty seconds to perfect his design. "Okay. The standard formula for a land fill dam is a three to one ratio of substrate to the height of water you want to contain."

  "So to hold ten feet of water it needs to be thirty feet wide?" The governor pointed at Grant's picture.

  Grant smiled. "Kind of. I'd like a little bit of a safety margin. In case the water is over ten feet."

  Fred nodded. "The dam is about forty feet wide at the top."

  "Then let's use it all. We can build it twenty feet high and forty feet wide. Then we'd be able to contain almost fifteen feet of water. If it gets any higher than that, we'll be in trouble." Grant looked up for approval.

  All three men looked at each other, waiting to see if there were any arguments.

  The governor looked at his watch. "Is there enough time? It's already 6:00."

  Grant's stomach felt like something was boiling inside. They expected the water to rise above the top of Hoover early the next morning. According to Shauna's latest calculations, they had roughly twelve hours to build the dike. "There's only one way to find out."

  CHAPTER 20

  6:15 p.m. - Hoover Dam, Boulder, Nevada

  It'd taken only fifteen minutes to persuade the governor, although Governor Jenkins still didn't think they could build it fast enough. In the end he had convinced himself that even if they didn't finish building up the dam in time, whatever they did finish would delay the floods downstream. Grant, Shauna, and Fred stood in the hallway of the visitor center and plotted how to accomplish their task.

  Shauna shook her head. "It won't work."

  "It has to," Grant said.

  "But Grant, when you build a land fill dike, you have to build it slowly, and wet it, and you have to use non-permeable soil. If we rush it, it'll leak."

  Grant knew she was right. They couldn't just throw it together, even if they compressed it with bulldozers. If the soil allowed water to seep through, it would wash out. He wondered if they would find the right kind of soil around Las Vegas, where as far as he knew, everything was sand. And everyone knows you can't build a dam with sand.

  Grant held out his hands. "How do they build those dikes around the Mississippi River when it floods? It seems like they're always trying to protect some town from getting flooded by the river. Don't they need to be built fast?" He felt helpless. He had convinced the governor, but now he wasn't convinced himself.

  "Seems like all the ones I see on the rivers in the Midwest are built out of sand bags," Fred said.

  Grant and Shauna both looked up at him
. Sandbags? It just might work. Heaven knew there was certainly plenty of sand around Las Vegas. Besides, building a dam out of sand bags would be faster since the layers would not need to be meticulously compressed with heavy equipment. The more he thought about it the more excited he became. A sandbag dike might even hold up if it were overtopped by a foot or two. It could even hold water while it was being built. The question was, where would they get enough bags, and the labor to fill them?

  * * *

  6:20 p.m. - Lake Powell, Arizona

  Julie guessed they had been in the traffic jam at Gregory Butte for almost an hour. They were almost out. The narrowest point had only enough room for ten boats to go through the turn at a time. Unfortunately, about 50 lines were merging into the small space. And after living in California, Julie knew what happened during rush hour when cars needed to merge. Boats were even worse. It was like a herd of sheep trying to get through an open gate. Julie was glad the bumpers were out because the Mastercraft had been bumping other boats for an hour. Finally they were only a few boats away. Greg let the boat on his left go past.

  "We're next," Greg said. "Everybody sit down."

  Paul climbed down off the bow and started pulling in the bumper pads from both sides. As the boat on their right pulled out, Greg pulled in behind it. They idled slowly at first around the bend with the boat almost touching on both sides. As the canyon turned straight again, it widened. As a result, the boats were able to spread out and speed up. Greg gave the boat some throttle.

  Julie had been on many crowded lakes before, but nothing compared to this. There were probably between 15 and 20 rows of boats, all going as fast as possible. Greg tried to stay in the wake behind the boat in front of him, but many others were swerving back and forth passing each other. That many boats, traveling that fast, made for rough water. Julie saw Darlene and Max hanging on tight as the boat jarred up and down, sometimes with loud banging noises. Personal watercraft darted between the boats. It reminded her of the motorcyclists in southern California that dart between the cars on the freeways. Even though it was perfectly legal in California, she was always afraid one would go down in front of her and she would run over it.

 

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