by Gary Hansen
"My leg," she said, her face showing intense pain.
"Hurry!" Greg urged.
Julie lunged toward the man on the floor who was trying to stand up. She grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet. She looked at the woman again, then at Greg. "Her leg is hurt. We're going to have to lift her." Greg left the steering wheel for a second to look at the woman, then returned quickly to the controls.
"Flip her around so her back is against the boat. It's easier."
Julie remembered once when she was too tired to climb in the boat after water-skiing. Greg and Paul had lifted her in that way.
She and the man climbed out on the platform on the rear deck and they each grabbed an arm. Julie saw that the dam was approaching much too quickly.
"Ready?" the man said.
Julie nodded and they both pulled. The lady was heavier than Julie expected and Julie lost her balance. She had no choice but release her grip. The woman slipped back in the water.
"Can you do this?" the man asked nervously.
Julie nodded. She had just underestimated. As she prepared for the next pull, she saw what looked like a group of policeman up on the right shore, near the dam. They were waving frantically at the boaters.
Julie braced herself and looked at the man. He nodded and they both pulled hard. The lady came up out of the water, and all three of them fell into the boat. She felt the Mastercraft accelerate immediately. She pulled herself up to her knees.
Greg had the boat going full blast and was heading up the river, but they were only gaining ground slowly. When Julie looked back, she saw that they had been close enough that the wake was now rolling over the remnants of the dam. She looked up on the canyon walls and saw that the policemen were clapping and thrusting their fists into the air. Julie crawled forward and hugged her husband's leg.
* * *
8:30 p.m. - Grand Canyon, Arizona
David was out of the raft again. They all were. The water had risen to where the canyon spread out. There were finally flat places to stand. That was the good news. The bad news was that where they had been in a protected canyon before, if the water rose any higher, they would now be exposed. And it was very dark. Deep in the canyon, the sun had set long ago. The last remaining rays touched the west-facing rocks thousands of feet above them. The river, which an hour before had been expanding from its channel, now enjoyed free rein to flow where it wanted. Although it was getting too dark to be sure, David guessed the big, black expanse of water to be a half mile across.
* * *
8:40 p.m. - Lake Powell, Utah
The Mastercraft merged back with the other boats entering WahweapCanyon. Julie glanced back at the couple still sitting on the floor. The lady was sobbing uncontrollably and clutching her leg. Julie guessed the tears were not for the leg, but for how close they had come to losing their lives. The man sensed Julie's eyes and looked up. His eyes were also misty. He nodded thanks at Julie, and turned back to his wife. Julie looked back at the remains of the Glen Canyon Dam again. That had been too close.
With the water down over a hundred feet, the entrance to Wahweap felt like a canyon. The walls were narrow and steep, and Greg and the other boats had to slow to get through safely. WahweapBay was draining into the channel, and creating a current, but not nearly as strong as in the Narrows.
Only a few minutes later, the canyon opened into the wide expanse of WahweapBay. The water here was wide and calm. Greg and many of the other boats slowed and took a breather. Up ahead on the left were the buildings and docks of Wahweap Marina. On the right was Castle Rock, and even in the setting sun, Julie could see crowds of stranded boaters cresting the pass and hiking around the bay toward the marina.
CHAPTER 23
9:15 p.m. - Hoover Dam, Boulder, Nevada
Back in the visitor center, Grant felt like sleeping. If he hadn't known better, he would have sworn he left Denver a week ago. He checked his watch and added an hour for the time change. It was already 10:15 p.m. in Denver - past his bedtime. He imagined his wife getting ready for bed and putting on her worn flannel pajamas, which she wore year round, even in the summer. He detested those pajamas. They were the least sexy things he could imagine. But right now, he decided, they wouldn't bother him at all.
He walked over to the wall of windows in the visitor center and looked out at Hoover Dam. The lights on the canyon walls lit up the dam like daylight. The dam itself was buzzing with action. The trucks kept coming. The sandbag dike had grown steadily along the upstream side of the dam, now reaching almost ten feet high in some sections. At the current rate, they were on target to finish the upstream portion by 3 or 4 a.m. - just in time, based on the projection that the water would rise above the concrete dam somewhere between 6:00 and 9:00. But it would be close. Then the slower and more difficult task of building it up to fifteen feet would begin. Grant could not see the old man with the bullhorn on the dike, and guessed that he must have taken a break. Hopefully the stackers had learned something and a sandbag wouldn't be misplaced in his absence.
Fred walked up behind Grant while he was gazing out the window. "You look beat."
"Yeah, I think it just caught up to me."
"You want me to find you a room for a couple hours? That casino between here and BoulderCity is only a few minutes away."
"There's no way I could sleep tonight, but thanks anyway."
It was quiet for a minute, while both men watched the action on the dam. Grant broke the trance and looked over at Fred. "You think it'll work?"
"What? The dam?" Fred hesitated, and rubbed his chin. "I guess that depends on your girl's estimates. If she's right about the water levels, sure, I think it'll hold. The old man definitely knows what he's doing with the sand bags."
They were both silent for a few moments, staring out the windows, before Fred smiled and spoke again. "They're calling it 'Hoover-Two', you know."
Grant turned, raising his eyebrows. "What, the dike? Who is?"
Fred pointed down at the dam. "I think the soldiers started it. But I heard 'Hoover-Two' in the visitor center a few minutes ago. It seems to be catching on."
Grant looked back at the dam. Hoover-Two. It seemed appropriate. A small dam built on top of the famous one below. He wondered why he hadn't thought of it himself. He looked back at Fred. "Hoover-Two." He felt the words roll off his tongue. "I like it. Let's just hope Hoover-Two's legacy will be a success."
Fred nodded. "Yup. There's a lot riding on it, that's for sure."
Grant changed the subject. "What's been happening downstream?"
Fred glanced up. "Nothing yet. We know LakeMojave has been rising about nine inches an hour since we blew the two spillways. Davis Dam's internal gates are open, but that won't keep up with the water we're dumping. They're supposed to open the spillways at Davis, but just like here, they won't run at full capacity until the water level rises. According to Shauna's calculations, that won't happen until a little after midnight."
Grant pondered the data. "Once her spillways are running at full tilt, Mojave should be able to hold her level, right?"
"Yeah. Theoretically."
Grant pursed his lips, trying to imagine the spillways at Davis Dam. "They've never been tested at full capacity, have they?"
Fred smiled. "Course not."
Grant smirked. "That would be too good to be true."
Fred shrugged. "We have to trust them. They were designed specifically to keep up with Hoover. The problem is, even assuming they work, the trouble will just move downstream. LakeHavasu will have to rise high enough for the water to reach the top of Parker Dam's spillways. Its internal gates aren't going to be able to keep up either. Both dams, Davis and Parker, will need their spillways flowing at full capacity to keep up with all the water we're dumping."
A thought kept nagging Grant. "How certain are we that Parker's spillways can really handle it? Isn't that just theoretical too?"
Fred rubbed his forehead. "Same story. None of the spillways have ever be
en tested at capacity." Fred turned toward Grant. "Why are you asking me all these questions? You work for the Bureau too."
Grant nodded. "My guys in Denver are all desk jockeys. You're out here in the real world. I was just curious what you think."
Fred showed a hint of satisfaction at Grant's remark. "If I were betting, and I am from Vegas, I'd bet on the Bureau's numbers. They may be desk jockeys today, but these three dams were all designed over fifty years ago. Those boys got out in the sun and got their hands dirty. They ran their calculations on slide rules. They checked their numbers, then checked them again. Yeah, I trust them."
Grant smiled. It had never occurred to him that the calculations were done by hand. Over the last fifteen years the Bureau had not done anything without modeling it on a computer first. If someone took all the computers away today, the Bureau would stop dead. They wouldn't know what to do. Grant had seen slide rules, but he didn't even know how to work one. Actually, Grant wasn't sure he could balance his checkbook anymore without a computer.
Fred looked at him. "What are you thinking?"
Grant shrugged. "Just that we're sitting here racking our brains, and the flood's not even here yet." Grant looked back out at the action on the dam and kept talking without looking at Fred. "If we're able to contain all this water in my little dam extension project - Hoover-Two," he corrected himself, "then all three sets of spillways will be running at full capacity for weeks. None of the three dam's spillways have ever been tested at full capacity for a minute, let alone weeks."
Fred spoke from behind Grant. "In 1983 when the water was high, only two feet of water went over the spillways at Hoover for sixty days - less than five percent of capacity. Even that almost ruined the spillways. I can't imagine what this is going to do."
Grant smiled. "Compared to what would happen if the water breaches Hoover, they're going to be happy to re-build the spillways after it's over."
Grant's cell phone rang. He picked it up. "Hello."
"Grant, it's Howard."
Grant recognized the voice of his boss. His stomach turned. His boss was the last person he wanted to talk to. "Oh, hi Howard. How's Yellowstone?"
Howard spoke fast, obviously excited. "We've been driving around in the park all day, then we went out and ate. I hadn't heard any news. I flicked on the TV and . . . the Glen Canyon Dam - unbelievable. I called Cindy at home and she forwarded me to Julia. Julia told me that you're there handling it. I can't believe . . ." His voice tapered off.
Grant silently cursed the two secretaries for giving Howard his phone number. "Yeah, that about sums it up."
"Where are you? Page? Why didn't you call me?"
Grant hesitated. Actually, the thought of calling Howard had never occurred to him. Howard would have no idea what to do, and of course Grant didn't want the bureaucratic interference. He felt like he had plenty of obstacles without his boss questioning everything. "I'm at Hoover Dam in Veg-"
"I know where Hoover is. Why aren't you at GlenCanyon? Isn't that where the problem is?" Grant could already detect the condescending attitude.
Grant couldn't stop the defensiveness in his voice. "What'd you want me to do at GlenCanyon? The dam's gone."
"Well, what are you doing at Hoover?"
"We're getting ready for the flood; we're dumping as much water as possible to lower the lake." Grant decided not to bring up the part about dynamiting Hoover's spillways. "And we're building a dike on top of the dam to try to prevent overtopping." The phone went silent for a moment.
"Overtopping - you think that might happen?"
Grant talked down to him. "Yes, Howard, Hoover is going to get overtopped."
"How do you know that for sure?"
It never ceased to amaze Grant how some people could argue with so much conviction when they were completely wrong. "Howard, LakePowell holds almost two years of river flow. You think Mead has that much extra capacity?"
There was silence on the line before Howard continued. "Well, then, what makes you think a dike on top of Hoover will hold it? Two years of flow held by a dike?"
Grant willed himself to not lose his temper.
Howard continued. "And besides, who approved building a dike on top of the dam anyway? That's going to cost a fortune."
Grant gritted his teeth. "The governor of Nevada approved it."
There was silence on the other end of the phone for a moment. Even though Howard was a little behind, it didn't prevent him from saying something stupid. "You got him involved? What the hell were you thinking?"
Grant spat the words out. "He was here when I got here. I didn't call him. Besides, I needed him to get things done."
Howard switched his line of questioning. "How high is the dike you're building?"
Grant knew where this was going. "Twenty feet."
"Twenty feet, what's that gonna do? How'd you come up with that number?"
Grant got angry and yelled into the phone. "We calculated the height we'd need based on the water levels at both dams. Why, how high do you think I should build it, Howard? Do you have a better number in mind? Or, do you want me to tell the governor to stop the dike? You want to make the decisions now? Go ahead."
Howard hesitated. "Well, it's just that . . ."
Grant couldn't stop himself. "It's just that you're great at complaining, but you don't have a clue what to do." Grant realized he had gone too far.
The retort came, but Howard's voice was weak. "Hey, I'm just thinking out loud here."
Grant resisted the urge to tell his boss he shouldn't think out loud - it tended to make him look like an idiot.
Howard changed the subject. "What did Roland say when he called?"
"He told me not to make any decisions."
Howard laughed. "Well, it sounds like you screwed that up."
Grant agreed, "I didn't have any choice. Something had to be done."
Howard's tone changed to consolatory. "Well, you better hope your ideas work, 'cause we both know what'll happen if they don't."
Grant summed it up. "Yeah. I'm screwed if I do, and screwed if I don't."
"When's Roland going to be back in the country?"
Grant wished he knew. "I have no idea. When I talked to him around 10 a.m., he was still trying to find a flight back from Paris."
"He hasn't called since?" Howard asked.
"No, he didn't call back, which I'm assuming means they're in the air. I figure he could be arriving somewhere between midnight and noon tomorrow."
"You think the dike will be done by then?"
"It better be. We expect overtopping before 6:00 a.m."
Howard asked a question that must have hurt. "How did you figure out when the water would arrive?"
Grant answered. "The bureau put together a failure study in the nineties for GlenCanyon. They modeled the whole thing. I have a table showing when the flood arrives at each location."
The phone went silent. Howard had finally run out of questions. Grant asked his boss a question he was afraid of. "What are you going to do? Are you coming here?"
Howard hesitated. "Well, we're here in Yellowstone. We drove from Denver. I'd hate to leave my wife and the kids. She doesn't like to drive. It's a long drive home with the kids."
Grant felt elated. Reading between the lines, it seemed like Howard was a little scared to come. Somebody might figure out he was over his head.
Howard continued. "But I guess I'd better at least check on some flights. Y'know with Roland coming and all. I - don't know. Do you need me?"
Grant shook his head. He wanted to laugh, but didn't. "You'll have to make that decision yourself, Howard."
His boss went silent for a moment. "All right, I'll look into some flights, and talk to my family. I'll call you later."
"Okay," Grant responded.
"Call me if anything changes."
Grant knew he wouldn't call, and he thought Howard knew that too. "Yeah. Okay, Howard."
"All right, I'll call you later." The line wen
t dead.
Grant hung up the cell phone. He wondered how these guys with attitudes ever get anywhere. Wasn't it obvious to everyone? Yet there seemed to be at least one of these guys in every organization. And somebody had to have been stupid enough to promote them to a powerful position. The thought was mind-boggling.
Fred had been listening to the whole call. "That your boss?"
Grant nodded. "He's new at the bureau."
Fred raised his eyebrows. "New? Sounds like it. But he's your boss?"
Grant smiled. "It's a long story. He's not an engineer. He's a lawyer. Some congressman stuck him in our organization to look us over. He's a plant."
Fred shook his head. "You're kidding, right?"
Grant just shook his head.
Fred looked at his watch and then motioned to the door. "Come on. Let's go up to the casino and eat. You need to get out of here for a while."
Grant took one last look out at Hoover Dam and the partially constructed dike.
Fred grabbed his arm and pulled him. "Come on. This can take care of itself for a while. They can call us if they need us."
Grant felt wrong about leaving. What if something came up?
* * *
9:20 p.m. - Grand Canyon, Arizona
David wondered how much higher the water could rise. It had to already be four or five hundred feet above normal. There was no question in David's mind that the Glen Canyon Dam had broken. There was just too much water for any other explanation.
The canyon was now completely dark. Only the stars were visible. The entire group had retrieved their flashlights from their packs, but Keller had forced everyone to take turns to save battery power. David wore a headset light on his forehead, but it was currently not illuminated. At the moment, Sam was shining his up and down the rock walls, searching for handholds higher up.
They were close to getting rimmed again. The rising water had forced them against a vertical rock wall and it was David and Afram's turn to hold the raft. The two of them stood in waist-deep water, while everyone else sat inside. David felt the raft trying to pull him deeper into the water.
"It's too deep," Afram complained. "I can't hold it much longer."