Canyoneers Boat Flip
Grand Canyon National Park search and rescue personnel first started training with helicopter short haul technique (fixed rope attached beneath a helicopter for insertion or extractions) in September 1989. However as the summer of 1990 began they had not deployed the technique on an actual mission. On the afternoon of 16 June commercial boatman Ben Cannon of Canyoneers Inc. prepared his twenty-two passengers and crew, whom he was guiding on a two-week river trip, for the notorious Crystal Rapids (River Mile 99), which is one of the two most difficult rapids on the Colorado River within Grand Canyon. Just as the thirty-eight-foot raft entered the top of the rapids, the outboard engine prop struck a rock and disabled the vessel, causing it to drift out of control. The flow of the river, close to 20,000 cubic feet per second, caused the five-ton vessel to careen down through the rapids and it struck a cliff face on river left causing it to overturn on its side. Although the majority of the PFD (personal flotation device)-equipped passengers were thrown clear of the raft and drifted downstream, a few were trapped underneath the raft in the deck space between the enormous side tubes. The raft sped down the middle of the river and became stuck on a submerged group of boulders known as the Island
Meanwhile, high overhead, the pilot of a tour helicopter spotted the disabled raft and radioed his findings to the Grand Canyon Airport Control Tower, who immediately contacted the National Park Service. Rescue personnel quickly assembled at the South Rim Helibase within the park at the direction of Incident Commander, Mark Law. An initial helicopter flight was dispatched with National Park Service rangers aboard to conduct a size-up. As helicopter 210, a Bell 206-B Jet Ranger on year-round contract to the park, dropped into the Grand Canyon the sweltering 107° F (42°C) heat hit the rescuers at the river. There numerous onlookers stood on shore waiting with other boats to go through Crystal Rapids. A man stood on top of the overturned craft in the river and signalled to the hovering helicopter that there were others trapped beneath the raft.
The inaccessibility of the stranded raft in the 300-feet (90 metre) wide river channel, and the critical situation with the passengers in frigid 50° C water, made for a quick decision by Operations Chief, Ken Phillips. He resolved to deploy a short haul rescue. Rescuers landed at a beach helispot and began to re-rig the helicopter for this operation.
Two kayakers self-dispatched themselves from the shore and reached the raft, where they began rescue efforts. They relayed to the shore party with short range FM radios, “There are still another three people trapped.” They were in an air pocket between the massive inflated tubes. A metal bow plate restricted them from swimming out from the front end of the raft. The kayakers eventually managed to rescue one person from beneath the raft. Meanwhile boatmen from the motorised rafts, which were positioned upstream, put themselves at the disposal of the rescue operation. An outfitted ranger, Albert DeLaGarza, was ferried as close as possible downstream of the accident scene, then he waded up through an eddy to reach the stranded raft. Meanwhile Park Ranger Brian Smith was sent downstream on yet another commercial motorised raft to search for the remaining missing passengers. All of them were located by Brian and Park Ranger Keith Lober within a distance of one and a half miles. They reported back that there was only one casualty, a leg injury.
During the re-rigging of the helicopter for short haul, however, there was an unanticipated problem. The extreme heat. The helicopter had been shut down to make the rigging process safer, but the engine couldn’t be restarted until it cooled sufficiently. Rescuers stood by anxiously waiting for the temperature of the power unit to cool for a restart. Eventually it was a go situation, everything was readied and the pilot, Rick Carrick, with Ranger Chris Pergiel as spotter, took off for a power check over the accident. While attempting to hover over the moving water, Rick suddenly experienced the symptoms of spatial disorientation. Immediately he overcame this distraction by fixing on a stationary reference point on shore. The helicopter then returned and lifted Ranger Dave Ashe as an additional rescuer to the stranded raft. Once there, the remaining passengers, now suffering from hypothermia, were extracted and pulled up on the overturned craft. Going from the extreme of freezing water to the blasting heat triggered a rapid recovery of the victims. All the passengers, together with the rangers, were short hauled back to the helispot
During all this, an additional National Park Service contract helicopter, together with a US Forest Service helicopter, responded to the scene. Coordinated by Ranger Paul Crawford, they shuttled in rescuers and began transporting passengers from the raft back to the South Rim Helibase.
The complexity of this rescue can be measured in the use of multiple aircraft during a mass-casualty incident (MCI). Also, it was a first for the use of the short haul rescue technique at Grand Canyon National Park.
Bowers/Cottonwood Creek Rescue
On 6 July, 1996 two former frat brothers from Purdue University, twenty-six-year-old Todd Bowers and his companion Brandon Tipton, headed down the Grandview Trail on a day hike into Grand Canyon. Descending past the typical destination of Horseshoe Mesa, they reached the Tonto Plateau in Cottonwood Creek drainage, over midway down into the Canyon, in the searing midday heat.
Todd and Brandon drank through the last of their fluids between them, a single bottle of Powerade drink. The streambed of Cottonwood Creek lay bone dry, being an intermittent water source, which doesn’t last into summer. Now confronted with the fate of no water, Todd urged Brandon to come with him, following Cottonwood Creek to the Colorado River for water. After a tense discussion the two hikers separated. Brandon headed up the trail toward the rim as Todd began an off-trail odyssey downstream in a desperate attempt to reach water. Less than one mile from the river Todd’s progress was halted by a forty-five foot pour-off (dry waterfall). He began to traverse off the left side of the precipice, believing he could negotiate a climb back down to the creek bottom. At three o’clock, while attempting this exposed traverse, he slipped and fell thirty feet onto rocks. Todd desperately tried to stand, but found it impossible and crashed down again.
Brandon did not reach the trailhead at the rim until 8.20 pm, where he ran into a father and son who gave him water. That night he slept in the car and waited till nearly midday or 7 July at the trailhead. He then began searching other trailheads along the South Rim, when he eventually contacted a National Park Service ranger at 3.30 pm to report his companion overdue. Based upon the circumstances outlined in the initial report, a rescue was launched immediately. Forty-five minutes later Ranger Chuck Sypher, aboard NPS helicopter 210, spotted Todd lying motionless on a sloping boulder slab in Cottonwood Creek drainage. Chuck was dropped by the helicopter with NPS volunteer, Tim Vogelzang on a narrow saddle on a ridge jutting out from the base of the Tapeats Cliff. The hike from this landing zone to the casualty was rugged and exposed. Upon their arrival at 5.00 pm they found Todd Bowers beside a thirty-foot blood trail from above, with ashen grey dry skin and hot to touch.
Todd looked at Chuck through glassy eyes and from parched lips, covered with blood, slowly responded to Chuck’s questions in short four-word sentences. Chuck and Tim stablised his injuries, rigged a sling around his pelvis to keep him from sliding down the rock slab and then initiated IV therapy to replace the fluid loss. The first litre was quickly infused and made little changes in his status. Starting his second and final IV bag of normal saline, Chuck knew that the need for backup personnel and supplies was critical. The heat was oppressive and Todd was now coughing up bright red blood. Chuck ran out of IV fluid before reinforcements arrived. Rather than remove the IV he had established, Chuck switched it to a saline lock, which is a plug on the IV catheter.
Initially the rescue seemed like it would be a simple operation with a quick short haul extraction from the site. Unfortunately, as communication problems got complicated, the initial strategy suddenly appeared more elusive. Prior to sunset an Arizona Department of Public Safety (DPS) Air Rescue helicopter (Bell Long Ranger) performed a reconn
aissance flight over the accident site for a short haul mission. The confines of the area in a narrow gorge right at the base of a cliff-face, caused them to back off and relay that it was a “No go.” At sunset, 7.48 pm, the heat finally began to ease and it was apparent that the patient would not get evacuated that night. Following another helicopter insertion at the small saddle helispot, Ranger/EMT-Intermediate Matt Vandzura arrived at 8.20 pm with oxygen, IV fluids and drinking water.
Ranger Tammie Keller (earlier)
I responded to the South Rim Helibase to assist with an ongoing SAR in the Cottonwood Creek Drainage. When I arrived a manned radio relay was being set up from the scene to Flagstaff by Chuck Sypher. Chuck was also asking for more man power and additional medical equipment. Ranger Nick Herring was Incident Commander at the time. This was a very dynamic incident in that the patient seemed to be deteriorating, it was extremely hot at the scene and a short haul rescue didn’t seem to be an immediate option; it was late afternoon and we were running against daylight.
With a rescue plan developed, a switch was made in the role of Incident Commander, which was then taken over by Dan Oltrogge. Nick Herring and I boarded NPS helicopter 210 armed with backup EMS (Emergency Medical Services) equipment. I was critical of the ten additional litres of normal saline fluid asked for by Chuck Sypher at the scene. I couldn’t imagine the need for such quantities of IV fluid for one patient. Herring and I were dropped at the saddle helispot west of Cottonwood Creek. We landed at what we refer to as “pumpkin time”, which is sunset when helicopters must return to the South Rim Helibase and suspend flight operations. (Federal regulations prohibit NPS agency aircraft conducting flight operations thirty minutes after sunset.) Nick and I dropped our flight helmets and Nomex flightsuits as we gathered our supplies for the hike in. I took what I thought would be plenty of water. At the time I had over a gallon with me, and Nick was also carrying an equally burdensome amount. We began our descent over loose talus and steep terrain. We quickly lost available light and our progress slowed. We didn’t reach the scene until 9.30 pm. Even at that late hour it was still hot in Cottonwood Canyon and there was absolutely no breeze.
Chuck was attending to Todd Bowers, the casualty, and had rigged a harness system that provided good immobilisation. He gave me a patient assessment, and then he and I took shifts through the night providing patient care. When I arrived, Todd was alert and oriented. He showed the signs and symptoms of dehydration with pain to his back and leg as well as leg cramps. He was now able to speak in full word sentences, but complained of a discomfort in his chest. He had clear lung sounds, but diminished on one side. Chuck and I discussed a probable pneumothorax (collapsed lung) and specifically monitored him for any deterioration in respiratory condition. Todd was moved from his perch on the rock slab and immobilised in a full-length vacuum mattress, referred to locally as a Germa. The insulating nature of the thick vacuum mattress in the stifling heat meant that we had to pour water on him to lower his temperature.
He asked for a drink which we gave him in increments to prevent vomiting. He was being hydrated with an IV of normal saline. As the night progressed he became more difficult. Chuck and I monitored him, considering the possibility that his mental status was becoming altered. He demanded more water and began to chant, “Water, water, I need water”, over and over again. We explained to him that he was being re-hydrated with an IV and that we could only give him capfuls at a time to prevent vomiting. We also explained that two rescuers were currently making their way to the Colorado River to get more water. Most of this emphatic explaining was done by me I actually told him: “You should have considered your actions before you acted and you wouldn’t be now injured on the rock begging for water.”
He told me he wanted the “nice ranger” back, but remained alert, oriented, talkative, and occasionally argumentative.
About an hour after arrival on scene I began to show the symptoms of dehydration. Ranger Vandzura was also suffering from dehydration. It was necessary for both of us to receive IV therapy with an infusion of a litre of normal saline. The heat in the canyon continued to be above 100 degrees until just before daylight, when the temperatures finally fell to about 89 degrees. Due to the heat and the physical exertion required to access the patient, the rescuers were low on water. As mentioned, Rangers Herring and Vandzura made a trip, in the dark, to the Colorado River to get water. I had a gallon, but allowed myself to become dehydrated to the point that I couldn’t tolerate water without vomiting. I mention this embarrassing point; my lack of personal responsibility, in the hope that others, acknowledging that they too may be susceptible to haste and lack of situational awareness. I was an experienced search and rescue member- I knew better.
The next morning several fresh waves resources were deployed from the South Rim involving a rescue plan that was quite unparalleled for Grand Canyon. Rescuers were shuttled by helicopter to a landing zone on a vestpocket beach along the river. This landing zone provided much better clearance than the precipitous saddle helispot utilised the day before. The tiny beach jutted out into the river from the base of the cliff, but it precluded any sort of upstream hike. A motorised inflatable raft was carried in by helicopter sling load and deployed at the improvised helispot. River Ranger Dave Desrosiers then shuttled rescuers upstream over a mile on his improvised “ferryboat”. Helicopters shuttled wildland fire crew personnel to the river helispot and a raft journey upstream to Cottonwood Canyon. From the river’s edge a steep talus slope had to be climbed in order to gain access into the mouth of Cottonwood Creek. Flowing downstream, Cottonwood Creek terminated at a sheer pour-off eighty feet above the river. The fire crew equipped with “brush tips” mounted on their chainsaws cut a path along the canyon bottom. The vegetation was so thick that it would have made a litter carry impassable. It was now early afternoon and the temperature in the canyon was beginning to rise. The original rescuers had now been in the canyon so long, that back up was sent in to assist with carrying the patient down the canyon.
Todd was carried in a litter to the confluence of the Cottonwood Creek and the Colorado River. As he was being evacuated, making progress out of the canyon, his spirits greatly improved. At the mouth of Cottonwood Creek he was transferred from the Stokes Litter to a Bauman Bag Stretcher for a short haul extraction. The mouth of the drainage was wider than the terrain at the accident site and Arizona DPS Air Rescue was able to maneuver carefully in for the short haul extraction. He was then airlifted downstream to the vestpocket helispot on the river. Here he was loaded aboard the DPS helicopter and flown to the Grand Canyon National Park Airport, where he was transferred again to a fixed wing air ambulance for a flight to Flagstaff.
It took the combined efforts of fifty NPS personnel, three helicopters and a fixed wing aircraft to complete the difficult rescue operation.
Todd recovered from his injuries and some years later he was recruited to take part in a preventative search and rescue (PSAR) video production and discuss his accident, edited with actual footage from the rescue. Many Grand Canyon hikers have actually learned to be more cautious through Todd Bower’s personal tragedy.
Elves Chasm Rescue
River runners journeying down the Colorado River through Grand Canyon make frequent stops to hike up side drainages at some of the “attraction sites”. Elves Chasm within Royal Arch Creek, located at River Mile 116, provides a lush oasis as water trickles past ferns and wildflowers in a deeply shaded, narrow gorge granting sanctuary from the relentless summer along the river. Tying up their boats at the boulder-strewn mouth, river runners have etched a popular route far up the drainage that involves daunting exposure to negotiate. The furthest regions of Royal Arch Creek are only attained by the most adventurous. Commercial guides typically limit the wandering of their passengers to the first few pools in the lower reaches of the canyon.
Paramedic Tom Clausing
On 17 October 1997 an experienced group of eight boaters on a twenty-one-day private river trip through th
e Grand Canyon stopped at Elves Chasm. Three of the group had been to the highest possible point in the side canyon accessed by an exposed, loose, two-stage cliff band about twenty-foot high that allows access to the last amphitheatre. It’s a climb seldom done by parties, as its approach is well hidden and the rock is poor. One of the group, thirty-year-old “Susan” (not her real name), asked about the approach to the last amphitheatre but was discouraged by those who had been there, as it was dangerous. The party enjoyed the tranquillity at the dripping spring at the head of the second to last bowl. Unbeknown to the group, Susan climbed to the base of the loose wall and started up. Shortly after the peace and quiet was shattered by the crash of heavy rock fall in the direction of the last cliff band. Suddenly the party realised Susan was missing.
The boaters quickly scrambled up to the base of the wall to a fresh rock fall on the forty-foot scree slope and an unconscious Susan lying breathing in ragged gasps. She had a head injury and appeared to take on a pre-seizure posture, an ominous sign of traumatic brain swelling. This quickly resolved and her breathing became more regular as the rate of bleeding increased from a large, deep laceration at the posterior base of her skull. She remained unresponsive.
Faced with a friend in critical condition high in a steep, technical side canyon, the group quickly evolved into rescuers, dividing into three patient care providers, and four to return to the boats for rescue equipment. They didn’t have radios – satellite telephone technology wasn’t then readily available and ground-to-air emergency radios, although available for rent, were limited to line of sight – not much use in a deep canyon! The four headed back to the boats. It was going to take some time due to the difficulties, including various climbs. Meanwhile, Susan’s injuries were taken care of with the basic equipment available at the accident scene. When the four who went to the boats arrived, by a stroke of good luck, another private river party pulled into the eddy at the mouth of Royal Arch Creek, and they asked them to contact any passing commercial river craft, with an emergency radio, to obtain assistance for the evacuation of Susan.
The Mammoth Book of Mountain Disasters Page 52