by Gary Hansen
Charlie's face contorted. "What about number five?"
Grant motioned at the other four. "Opening the others will take some pressure off number five. Tell the guys working on it that they have another half hour before we get some demolition guys in here to blow it open."
This time Charlie took off the glasses and wiped the sweat off his brow. "Blow it open? But then it would never close, not without major repairs. And we'd have to lower the whole lake to get access to it."
"That's tomorrow's problem, Mr. Jorgensen. Today's problem is getting 500,000 cubic feet per second to go downstream without overtopping this dam."
Grant raised his head and looked around. The area on both sides of the dam seemed flat and at nearly the same elevation as the dam itself. If the water rose too high, it was not evident where the low point was. As he took in the surroundings, he noticed that Charlie was moving around, trying to see what Grant was looking at.
Grant explained. "If the spillways don't keep up, where's the water going to go?"
Charlie looked around, panicky. "What d'ya mean, where's it going to go? The spillways were designed to keep up."
"Yeah, but they have never been tested, have they? And besides, right now you can't open all of them anyway. We have to have a contingency. That's why I'm here." Grant looked at his watch. "And we have at most forty minutes to figure it out."
Charlie lowered his head again and prepared to leave. But Grant stopped him. "Oh, Mr. Jorgensen, be sure to call a demolition team. I want them here and ready if your guys can't open the gate on number five." Grant glanced at the top of the metal gates. "Oh, and tell them to bring some of that stuff that burns through metal, the stuff they use underwater to sink ships." Grant considered that it was doubtful they had any of that in Parker, Arizona.
The small man adjusted his glasses one more time and scurried off to relay the instructions. Grant noticed Lloyd standing next to him for the first time since they left the helicopter. He looked at Grant and a large smile appeared across his face.
"You're gonna give the poor man a heart attack," Lloyd said. "He's not used to that kind of pressure."
"Maybe he needs a heart attack. If he'd seen how much water was going through the spillways at Davis, maybe he'd pull his head out."
Grant looked again at the dam and surrounding hillsides and decided the dam itself was probably the lowest point. He walked past a group of police officers, over to the downstream side of the dam. Looking down at where the spillways exited the top of the dam, he decided there was probably less than ten feet of concrete between where he was standing and the top of the spillways.
He had a thought. "Hey Lloyd, if we had the demolition guys blow the top off the spillways, you think that would make a huge difference in how much water we could get through here?"
Lloyd looked down at the spillways, and then back across the dam. "Mr. Stevens," he said, "I don't think Charlie Jorgensen is going to like having you around."
* * *
11:10 a.m. - Carlsbad, California
The skinny man climbed into the back of the truck and checked the tie downs. He verified that the four-wheel ATV he had just purchased was secure and would not move around. The other items, including buckets, shovels, and gas cans, were stacked around it.
"Good luck with it," the other man said. "It's never given me any problems."
The skinny man nodded. "I think it'll work out just fine."
After arriving at the man's house he had taken the ATV for a short test drive in the cul-de-sac where the man lived. The engine was stronger than he expected and the tires were practically new. The muffler was quiet as claimed, which was one of his most important criteria. The four-wheeler had been stored in the garage and seldom used according to its owner. It looked almost new. Besides, he only needed it to run for the next 24 hours.
Satisfied that it was tied securely in the back of the truck, he hopped down and shut the tailgate. The seller stopped counting the wad of twenties for the third time and reached out to shake hands. The skinny man quickly glanced at his watch and then shook. He climbed into the pickup and started the engine. When he glanced one last time at the seller, he was busy counting the bills again.
As he drove the truck back toward the freeway, he wondered how far south the floodwater had traveled. According to reports on the radio, flooding was bad around Needles, which wasn't far from Parker Dam. That put it an hour or two later than he had estimated, but well within the worst-case calculations he had made. He smiled. He had plenty of time. Forty-five minutes south to San Diego, then an hour east and he would be right back in the action.
* * *
11:15 a.m. - Grand Canyon, Arizona
The three rafters were prepared. They couldn't afford to miss any more helicopters. Two had already flown past without seeing them. The problem was how to be noticed.
They were getting desperate. All three of them were thirsty, and the sun was almost directly above them, beating down on them. Additionally, there was no telling how much longer the helicopter searches would continue before they were called off. David wondered how long they could survive on the small outcropping with no food or water. And the space was becoming even more confining as the day went by. David's calves hurt from standing on the jagged slope, and sitting or laying down provided little relief.
The only upside was that over the last four hours of looking over the 300-foot ledge, David was finally becoming more comfortable with heights. It still scared him to look down, but nothing like the first time this morning. Gone were the shakes, sweating, and dizzy spells. Now it was just subdued fear.
The last four hours had oscillated between conversation and silence. They had speculated over and over, all the possible ways for their friends to have survived. But logic told him otherwise. It would be a miracle for any of them to be alive.
The second most popular topic had been how to attract the attention of the helicopters. They had discussed ways to get their attention: noise, fires, mirrors, all to no avail. They did not have the resources to communicate in any of those ways. They agreed that something visual had to be done, and waving arms hadn't worked the previous times. A smoky fire would be best, but all they had at their disposal was rock. Afram had suggested that if only he could throw a rock and actually hit the helicopter, they would be noticed. But both David and Judy knew that the probability of making contact was extremely small.
They needed something to draw the pilot's eyes upward. All three agreed that seeing something catapulting down the cliffs would do the trick. And that ultimately had given them their final idea.
"I think I hear one." Judy cupped her hand to her ear.
David stood and listened. "I can't hear any--"
"I hear it too!" Afram said. "Get ready!"
David crouched and so did Afram. Judy would be first. They had agreed on the sequence in advance. David held on to Judy's legs to stabilize her. The helicopter flew around the bend and became visible. Judy threw her life jacket and it started to fall down the cliff. The life jacket fell 75 feet, then hung on a rock outcropping. Judy crouched and David stood and threw his life jacket as hard as he could, the motion almost carrying him off the ledge. David's jacket dropped slightly farther before hanging on some sagebrush a hundred feet below. The helicopter showed no sign of recognition, maintaining its speed and trajectory. David crouched.
Afram, who had assured them his idea was best, rolled a large rock off the ledge that he had worked out of the hill. His lifejacket was wrapped tightly around the rock. The rock fell twenty feet before impacting rock below it. The collision sprayed dust in all directions and catapulted the rock farther down the canyon. In the next impact, it broke into two smaller pieces and the life jacket came off in another spray of dust. The two rocks continued rolling, unsettling other rocks in their path.
"Wave!" Afram yelled.
All three stood and waved their arms. One of the rocks bounced all the way to the river and splashed. The helicopter slowe
d.
"They saw it!" Judy said, jumping up and down on the small ledge.
"Wave!" Afram yelled again.
The helicopter veered as if it was searching for something. It climbed higher.
"Keep waving!" Judy encouraged. "They're looking for us."
The helicopter climbed and headed directly toward them.
"I think they see us," David said.
Judy shook her head. "Don't stop until we're sure."
The helicopter climbed higher and moved directly in front of them. David could see someone inside pointing at the three rafters.
"Hello." The sound was metallic and came from the helicopter's PA. A man inside the helicopter waved.
David had never been so happy in his life. The three rafters stopped waving, although Judy was still jumping up and down. The men in the helicopter pointed up at the rock cliffs. It looked like they were talking strategy. David realized the helicopter could not get close enough to help them without causing the rotors to hit the cliff. The men inside continued talking and pointing. The rafters waited.
The metallic voice returned. "Unfortunately, we are not going to be able to retrieve you from that location. We'll need to send another helicopter, one that can get you from above." He pointed up.
David felt disappointment that they would be on the ledge longer.
"Don't worry," the voice continued. "We'll be back." The man smiled widely. "Don't go anywhere while we're gone."
And with that, the helicopter flew up the river and was gone.
* * *
11:20 a.m. - Parker Dam, California/Arizona Border
Spillways one through four were now completely open and the volume of water was scary. Grant guessed that they were each running at eighty percent capacity, needing LakeHavasu to rise only a few more feet to max them out. According to Shauna, just before Charlie opened the gates, LakeHavasu was rising just under an inch every two minutes, which meant the full volume of water from Davis and Hoover was entering the lake. Opening the four spillways had slowed the rate considerably, but it was still rising. They needed the other spillway open.
Charlie's guys had rigged some scaffolding off the downstream side of the dam allowing them to climb down into the spillway itself. Grant now stood on the scaffolding inside number five, looking up at the stuck gate. The metal head gate was designed to slide down two slots in the concrete. Electric motors pulled huge chains to move the gate up and down. With the right side stuck, the left side had dropped enough to wedge the entire gate. One of Charlie's men had climbed up the ladder and was banging on the top of the head gate, where it was jammed. Now Charlie was worried about burning up the motors, since the one on the right started smoking during the last attempt. Obviously, the more pressure on the gate, the harder it would be to break loose, and the rising water on the other side wasn't helping. The worker on the ladder continued pounding mercilessly with the sledgehammer to break it loose. He stopped hammering for a second, mopped the sweat off his brow with his glove, and gave Charlie a thumbs up.
Charlie stood next to Grant, looking up at the worker. "You want to try it again?"
The worker nodded.
Charlie held a radio to his mouth and prepared to have someone inside the dam try the motors, when Grant interrupted him. "Can you separate the motors?"
Charlie shrugged and adjusted his glasses. "What do you mean?"
"Can you try raising it with just the left motor?" Grant pointed up at the top. "That might un-jam it."
Charlie relayed the request into the radio. The response came back that there was only one switch.
"Aren't there separate circuit breakers for each motor?" asked Grant.
The person on the radio answered that there were. Charlie thumbed the radio. "Turn off the right motor, then try to raise it."
They waited for a while then they heard the gate screech and Grant saw the left side move up slightly.
"Stop!" Charlie yelled in the radio.
A couple of the men started cheering, including the man up on the ladder.
"Okay, now turn the right motor back on," Charlie said into the radio. He gave the operator a few moments to flip the switch. "All right, now try both motors down." He motioned for Grant to cross his fingers.
The gate started moving down. The workers cheered again.
"Stop!" yelled Charlie into the radio.
The gate stopped and Grant heard the response from the radio. "What's wrong now? Did it jam again?"
Charlie explained in the radio. "No. But we need to get out of here before you open it -- or you'll drown us all," he added.
That made perfect sense to Grant. He headed for the scaffolding, at the same time noticing the man with the sledge hurrying behind him. When Grant reached the top, climbing onto the safe concrete structure again, he saw Shauna and Lloyd waiting.
"So you fixed it?" said Lloyd.
"It's not open yet," Grant answered.
He turned to see Charlie climbing over the rail. He looked terrible. His un-tucked shirt was smeared with dirt and soaked with sweat under both arms and in the middle of his chest. The three other workers followed, handing the ladder up as they came. With everyone on the deck, Charlie first nodded at Grant, then keyed the radio. "Okay, we're all out. Let 'er rip."
Grant watched over the side of the dam at number five as the switch was activated. He could hear the metal gate moving. After only a few seconds the small stream exiting the spillway increased. The stream quickly grew until it was almost half the size of the other four.
Charlie's head showed up next to Grant's. He yelled to be heard over the water. "The right motor is smoking like hell."
Grant looked over at him. "What'd you tell him?"
Charlie grinned. "I told him to let it smoke. We'll replace the motor later."
The sound of the gate raising was barely audible with the noise of the water. But Grant knew it was still moving because the water exiting number five continued to grow, now almost equaling the other four.
Charlie's radio squawked something indiscernible and he walked to the middle of the dam where it was quieter. He said something into the radio, but Grant couldn't hear. Charlie looked back at Grant, then walked toward him. "We burned up the right motor. It's on fire."
Grant looked back at the streams of water blasting from the spillways. If number five's flow was less than the other four, it wasn't by much. He turned back to Charlie. "Is it all the way up?"
Charlie adjusted his glasses and shook his head. "It's still got a couple feet to go."
Surely, a couple of feet wouldn't make much difference. But Grant knew it was a wish more than a fact. Grant grabbed Shauna's arm and led her to the middle of the dam where the sound wasn't as loud. "I need you to watch the water levels, by the minute. Number five is jammed again and this time we're not going to be able to fix it."
"We're already monitoring the levels every minute. But Havasu needs to rise higher until the water reaches the tops of the spillways. Only then will the spillways be at full capacity. That's when we expect the water levels to stabilize."
Grant nodded. "How soon?"
She looked at her watch. "Next half hour?"
Grant nodded again. "Okay, keep me informed." He watched her turn and walk quickly through the police officers until she was out of sight.
Grant turned and looked at Charlie again. "Order a new motor and get it installed ASAP. These spillways are gonna be open for two months. The longer we wait to open the spillway that last two feet, the more likely the water is going to damage the head-gate. Besides, if it turns out that it isn't open enough, and water starts going over the top of the dam, you'll need that motor to fix the problem."
Charlie nodded and walked away. Grant returned to the edge of the dam and stood next to Lloyd, observing the water leaving the spillways. Both stared for a few minutes without saying anything. Finally Lloyd broke the trance. "All right, Mr. Stevens, what's next?"
Grant straightened and they both walke
d slowly across the dam. "As soon as Shauna's water levels start to stabilize, we're off." He pointed downstream. "With all that water, Headgate Rock Dam, fourteen miles downstream, is probably getting topped already."
"You can't do anything about it?"
"We already tried. We told them to dynamite it, you know, open it up to let all this water through. But they refused."
Grant saw Lloyd's eyes grow and his mouth contort before he continued. "It's not going to matter anyway. The water'll tear the dam apart in a couple of hours. It'll just flood a little upstream before it lets go."
"What's upstream?"
"The reservoir is called LakeMoovalya. It's tiny compared to LakeHavasu, or Mojave, let alone Mead. More like a wide spot in the river. There's not much on the banks. They might get a little flooding. It shouldn't last long, though. I think Shauna's numbers predicted that at full flow, it'd take less than fifteen minutes to fill up the whole lake and spill over the top of the dam."
Lloyd pointed toward Parker Dam's spillways. "Doesn't Headgate Rock Dam have spillways?"
"Sure. But nowhere near big enough to handle 500,000 cubic feet per second."
"Why not? The other dams upstream got 'em."
Grant shrugged. "The dams downstream from LakeHavasu were only built to divert water for irrigation and aqueducts. Relatively speaking, there was no intent to do water storage or flood management. That would be handled upstream, primarily at Hoover and GlenCanyon."
"But what about a disaster like this?"
"You mean a complete failure of the Glen Canyon Dam? Believe me, that was never planned for at any of the dams, including Hoover. Keep in mind that all these dams - Hoover, Davis, Parker and even Headgate Rock - were all built before GlenCanyon. So they were mostly worried about controlling spring runoff and generating electricity. Handling flood waters from a failed mega-dam wouldn't have even been considered."
"Well, right now, you're probably wishing they had been designed for it, aren't you?"