NYR 5-29-11 - thankful to be alive, part 2

In continuing with my "thankful to be alive" series, courtesy of our overnight trip to Tobia, I would now like to share with you the story of our white water rafting trip on Sunday.

Friends had done this same trip a couple months ago and they assured me that it was entirely safe and suitable for children. Lots of floating with a few minor "thrills".

With that recommendation and the assurance of the hotel people that kids go rafting on this river all the time, I insisted that Mac go on the trip with us (even though the river looked really, really rough from our hotel's vantage point).

Everything started out well enough. We got our little security briefing, put on helmets and life jackets and started out in one of two boats that took our group down the river. Jimmy and a new friend were in the front, Mac was in the middle between Jimmy and me, Jimmy's Georgetown friend and I were in the back row and the guide was in the way back.

The river is really swollen from all the rain over the last few months. It was very chopppy and fast. Not the little float trip that I'd envisioned.

We hit the first rapids as soon as we put in but it was all good, even though I was a nervous wreck and grabbed onto the back of Mac's life jacket whenever we hit any patch of rough water. It's a wonder that we didn't both fall in.

The trouble for me came when our companion boat in front got sucked into a whirlpool. Our boat came through the rapids at the top of the whirlpool, but there was nowhere to go because we were stuck between the whirlpool and the other boat. We could not escape the whirlpool which sucked in the front corner of the boat, opposite of me. The lower that corner of the boat got, the higher my end of the boat went until I was thrown out.

Time really did slow down to a stop then because as I was flying out of the boat, I could see that I was going to land on what looked like a smooth surface that I assumed was a rock over which the water was flowing to form the rapids and creating the whirlpool in which the boat was stuck. I didn't hit rock thankfully but I immediately got swept under the water, under the boat and then eventually re-surfaced, backwards, downstream from our boat and upstream from the second boat. The water was really choppy so every time I tried to catch a breath, I got a mouthful of dirty river water. It was impossible to breathe because the water just kept coming in. I got turned around to face downstream and I spotted another helmet in the water ahead of me. The helmet was very still and facing away from me. All I could think was that the person inside the helmet had hit his head on a rock and was unconscious.

And I was convinced that person was Mac.

I kicked to get over to the helmet, grabbed the back of the life jacket and discovered it was Jimmy's grad school friend. I hung on until we got to the other boat.

All I can remember as I was hanging on the side of their boat before being pulled in was asking over and over whether Mac was in his boat. Then I remember whacking a woman in the head with my paddle which somehow I'd managed to hang onto. I hope she wasn't seriously injured - I forgot to ask her afterwards.

This incident happened maybe a quarter of the way into the trip and I was perfectly and completely miserable for the rest of the time. Any ripple in the water was a cause for alarm and I was terrified until we pulled out.

(As an aside, another group of embassy people went rafting the next day. That group included the friends who'd been a few months ago and who said it was child-friendly. They also had a very harrowing experience and said they'd never go again and had the river a couple months ago been as rough as it was on this recent trip, they wouldn't have allowed their young children to go, much less themselves!)

In any event, I believe I am done forever with rafting. Forget conquering fears. I'm into self-preservation now. I honestly think I'd have a panic attack if I ever tried to start a rafting trip in the future. I keep reminding myself that everything turned out just fine - nobody was injured and everybody's alive - but my mind's eye replays it over and over with horrible endings. I think this is a sign of PTSD.

I leave you with two photos which capture my feelings on this particular trip:
This picture was taken by the tour operators early in the trip when I was still able to smile.

This photo was taken by my friend Cammy (whose family was in the first boat) as we passed the hotel. My anguish is evident.

For being alive and for knowing that I never have to experience Tobia ever again, I am so truly thankful.