WET AND WILD:
Verde River Adventure
Special to The ARS Sojourner
Kim Swesey, KD3SWZ, and I planned an eight-man, four-canoe trip down the rugged Verde River in central Arizona. After all, two nights and three days of excitement for our crew along with a world of entertainment supplied by Kevin Swesey, K6RXL, making contacts, sounded like fun.
Somewhere in the early stages of this drama he had expressed little or no interest in the trip that was being planned for Memorial Day weekend. Kevin likes to stay close to his rig.
However, after mulling it over, and seeing how much fun we were having just planning this exciting trip, he asked if he could come along. Kevin is one of four brothers who were born with adventure in their veins and they usually stick together to develop unusual outdoor activities. So when Kevin, Keith Swesey, KD7UQX, Kim and Kurt get together, there's no telling what may develop. Paddling canoes in class-2 and class-3 white water is exciting, especially in Arizona where you'll see cacti in bloom, eagle aeries situated on sheer cliffs and beautiful virgin fishing waters. Gliding down river rapids in a canoe is not the most stable place to operate a radio, so we agreed on limiting operations to riverbank resting spots.
For our radio equipment, we used a 10-meter AR-3500 Ranger transceiver with a dipole antenna. For local contacts, we brought along a hand-held 5-watt transceiver and a home brew, 4-element cubical quad antenna because we would need maximum transmitter gain to get out of deep canyons and sheer cliffs.
Our power supply was a marine battery rated at 60 amp hours underneath the back seat of the canoe. That seat was assigned to the lightest member of the crew. Operating one hour each morning, one hour at noon and starting again at 5 p.m. until band closing, we estimated that the battery would last the whole trip. All of our radio gear, along with cameras, personal effects and other necessary equipment was stowed in waterproof bags and tied to the canoes in the event we capsized.
We arrived at Childs, AZ (our launch site) on Friday evening to camp overnight. Our families came along to cook, watch the launch and drive vehicles back over the switchback trail to Phoenix. Kevin tried out the AR-3500 in early evening but was unable to make a contact. Solar flares were disrupting the amateur radio frequencies, but we all hoped that conditions would improve for the next day.
The morning light danced across my eyelids as I stirred from a deep slumber. Rising up on one elbow, I looked out at the four canoes that would soon be embarked over waters of adventure.
The slow awakening of our campers escalated as breakfast began to perk along with the coffee. While canoeists were being teased with the tantalizing odors of bacon and eggs frying, they were busy loading equipment. Kevin was excused from this activity, so he could try once again to make some contacts, but the radio band was still dead.
Now it was time to hit the water and start paddling. The first rapids were only 200 yards downstream. Everyone who wasn't in a canoe rushed ahead to watch the crews shoot through the narrow opening that was fortified on each side with huge boulders.
The first canoe shot through as though they had done this a hundred times before. The second canoe, where Kevin and all the radio gear was riding skimmed through with flying colors, but then bashed against the rocky bordered bank and swamped. The third and fourth canoes also swamped. We soon discovered, that vital to our success on this trip, were our state-of-the-art canoes and waterproof bags. The ultra-light canoes and transport bags made it possible to carry the added weight of the radio and battery over rough water and keep it bone dry in spite of frequent swamping.
There was only one place to make our first stop, and that was where sheer cliffs rise several hundred feet and the river makes a sharp right turn. We landed here for a breather and discovered an eagle's nest perched on an overlooking jutting rock high on the cliff. In our excitement to take pictures of the fledgling eagles with their parents flying overhead, we completely forgot about the noon schedule to transmit.
After making our first campsite, unloading the canoes and equipment only took a few minutes. Kevin found a couple of trees, tied rocks to the ends of the wire dipole antenna so he could throw it high into the trees, and started scanning the radio band. For the next 30 minutes we heard nothing but static and background noise. Kevin also tried the 2-meter handheld transceiver, but even with the quad antenna plugged-in, he wasn't making any contacts.
In the early stages of planning this trip, Kevin started passing the word along to his fellow ham operators to tune in on this adventure. Now we wondered how many were actually listening.
The solar flares kept it a secret, so we shut down until our next stop.
On the second day we paddled down a fast stream of rapids with plenty of action and thrills kissing side rocks and other obstacles that seemed to want to stop our canoes. The high winds we were encountering presented us with special concerns. Our support crew was due to pick us up at Horseshoe Dam on the third day, but because of the wind we were beginning to doubt that we could make it that far. It became increasingly important to make contact with someone who could relay a message for the support crew to change the pick-up point further upstream at Sheep Bridge.
Once again we launched our canoes into the rapid waters and as we rounded the next bend in the river, I looked ahead to see one of the canoes in trouble. In the middle of Game and Fish Rapids was a huge Volkswagen sized rock and Keith's canoe was wrapped around it and bent completely in half. The water was rushing so fast they didn't have time to correct by side-paddling and whammo . . . they crashed against the rock T -boning the canoe. Keith described it later as his horrible nightmare of an episode. Steering in a canoe in white water can only be done with paddles and depends on the expertise of the front and rear jockeys.
We stopped more frequently than planned so Kevin could try to raise someone, but no one could hear him. We finally made our second campsite, and Kevin dug out the 10-meter rig again.
He called CQ for a solid hour. Making radio contact took on desperation, but it was either that, or we would have a long, long hike from Sheep Bridge to Horseshoe Dam after a punishing three days on the river. More importantly, we didn't want to worry the support crew by not being at the designated pick-up point on time. I had visions of helicopters and ground crews searching day and night for us.
At the last minute, Kevin decided to give it one more try . . . then suddenly we heard an Australian station on the band. We heard “K7 Romeo X-ray Lima, What say Matey? Can you hear me?” Kevin gave him a fast response, and we had our first contact. Kevin explained our situation to Dick Webb, VK3AHT, who offered his help from Melbourne, Australia. We could only hope that he was successful in getting a message to Phoenix.
Our day-long battle with the fierce winds had taken its toll. We nibbled on our dinner and exhausted, climbed into our sleeping bags eager to grab some shuteye. I'm sure each man's last thoughts that night was of what lay ahead of us the next day soothed only by the dim hope that our support crew would be at Sheep Bridge. . . and somehow our Australian contact would work the miracle to save us from another grueling day against the wind.
At dawn on the third day out, our entire crew was showing wear and tear from the demons of Mother Nature. Sunglasses, hats and sunscreen were all necessary equipment. Our long-sleeved shirts, kept wet for cooling purposes, seemed to bake under the relentless sun. One of the crew suffered painfully sunburned ears because his hat did not have a brim. Although the wind had died down during the night, it was beginning to pick-up again, and we knew we were in for another day of fighting the elements.
At the noon stop, Kevin tried again to make contact with anyone on 2 or 10 meters, but to no avail. We gave up and pushed on against the wind. The only thing that kept us going was looking for the bridge. Around every turn we expected to see it, only to find more river and another turn.
Finally, one of the oarsmen in the lead canoe bellowed out, “I smell barbeque!” Take my word for it, the paddling speed picked-up considerably. Just around the next turn we spotted our support crew cheering from the shore.
It was late afternoon, and the wind had helped time our arrival just right. We had not kept the support crew waiting long. Nothing had ever looked better than those people resting against the vehicles, framed by the smoke of a campfire cooking up big, juicy hamburgers - and plenty of them, along with lots of cold drinks. After greetings and handshakes, we asked how contact had been made.
VK3AHT from Australia had made contact with David Oustayan, KC6BFM, in Inglewood, CA, who then made a collect call to Phoenix to our crew chief’s wife, informing her of the new pick-up destination and time. I am never surprised, but always gratified to know that an amateur radio operator has handled a critical relay message. Both of these operators responded in a professional and timely manner to rescue us from our dilemma. We were all very grateful and let them know with QSL cards just how much it meant to us.
Several of the guys were impressed with radio operation and learned a lot about amateur transceivers. Since that trip, 2 more hams have passed their tests and have begun operating on amateur frequencies. Amateur radio is famous for its emergency operations during earthquakes, fires, hurricanes and other catastrophes in the United States and around the world. Here are eight adventurers and their families who are grateful for the contact that saved the day.
Since this trip, we have received many requests through the mail and on amateur frequencies for advice on similar trips that people are planning. Needless to say, we have a lot of excellent ideas to share with anyone wanting to canoe down the rapids in white water.
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Dale L. Swesey, K7DAL, is an outdoorsman and amateur radio operator living in Glendale, AZ.