boatman's quarterly review - Grand Canyon River Guides

whirlpools forming where there were none; boats being
sucked down until water sometimes flows over the tubes
then after a bit being released as the maelstrom disappears
as quickly as it forms. Looking downstream I can
see the heads of people in the next boat, but that’s all as
they’re caught in a sucky; there’s a three-foot vertical
differential. All the while the water is moving downstream
at ten to twelve miles per hour with no eddy.
Sockdolager, Grapevine, and Horn Creek are totally
gone; 83-mile, Zoraster, and all the smaller ones will
disappear for years.
Its late afternoon when we reach Granite Falls, and
we scout again from the boats as we float over the tops
of the tamarisk forest at Monument camp.
We finally pull in on the right at 94-mile, camping
high. A Moki rowing trip is camped on the left, and a
small private trip with one of Randy Fabrese’s “Ouzels”
camps with us. A 70-mile day with no flips—not bad.
July 4th, again up at daybreak. Although we’re
seasoned now, there’s a bit more tension in the air, for
we are soon to be at river mile 98 and we’ll get to see
what all the fuss is about first hand.
The roar of Crystal is always stupendous, but today
it’s on another scale. The hole looks bigger than it did
on the nightly news. More correctly themed a hydraulic
jump, it has moved down from where the original hole
was. It has grown in magnitude so much because the
energy forming it is from all the water in the tongue
converging at that point and has no place to go but up.
The far right side run is exciting but uneventful as
there is enough water over there. At the bottom there is
almost a pool, if you will, formed by the tamarisk downstream,
and it’s a perfect spot to pull in. I reach the pool
behind the tamarisk and am captured by the “Sirens of
Crystal,” and the river takes me out to the eddy line
juxtaposed from the hole. Curt Smith snaps a picture of
the boat, (Jerry Mallet is in the bow), and makes a
million bucks, I guess.
Its about 9:00 July 4th, 1983. The flow is later to be
stated at 92,000 cfs. Being mesmerized by the upper part
of Crystal, no attention was paid to the lower two-thirds,
and after floating by the hole reality sets in. Huge tail
waves all the way down, any one of which could flip a
rowboat. I don’t feel so smart right now, but everything
goes fine for everyone. At the bottom of Crystal an
upside down motor-rig is tied up on the right: a product
of the initial encounter when the river got up into the
70,000 cfs.
At Bass we pull in to chat with Wilderness World.
We all have a special gleam in our eyes as though we’re
on some kind of, well, psychotropic drug—but this time
its old fashioned adrenaline. Everyone we encounter
looked the same way. The river has imparted an energy
to us that can’t be described in words, only felt. The
rocks above Waltenburg form another huge boil and the
Ouzel with the private trip tagging along with us flips in
it, but is righted quickly. The water is cranking and in
no time we are just above Elves. We see another flipped
motor-rig pulled in on the left—another statement of
the power of Crystal at this stage.
Randy’s Rock is covered and the water is flowing
over the top of Bedrock with plenty of room on the right
to avoid it. Deubendorff hints of a rapid but nothing
more.
At Granite Narrows the word from the old timers is
this is a rough spot and it proves to be. Just after the
entry there’s a powerful surge from left to right that
smashes our boats into the right wall. It’s unavoidable.
Downriver we go fast and furious. We pull into the
eddy at Olo and could step off the boat in the mouth of
the canyon. Fern Glen, mile 168, becomes our third
night’s camp. 74 miles this day with two scouts and
knocking off two huge rapids, again, not bad for a day’s
work.
In the morning I notice a little wet sand; the river
has peaked and is inching down. Just inches though.
Not a word has been mentioned about Lava. Old
habits die hard and we pull in on the right. Although
the left side would be a better scout, the right side
provides a wonderful view of this magnificent stretch of
water. What was normally the rapid is now a beautiful
tongue racing down to a vortex of water formed by a
titanic lateral coming off what was the black rock. It’s
way under with laterals feeding from the right. Below us
the large lava rock that pushed boats out when running
the right side is a huge pour over. The rock two hundred
yards down stream on the right from where the falls
normally end now forms a large lateral that has to be
avoided as well.
Providing we can bust the lateral on the left to avoid
both laterals downstream and then get right below them
to stay off the wall, we should be okay. To this point
however, we’ve not had great success in getting over
laterals of this size. The theory works in practice and the
runs are great. We pull in below lower Lava and gaze
back up at what we’ve just run. The beauty of Lava at
that level is etched in my brain; so much water flowing
down it, such a beautiful sight to see. We push off and
continue down stream. The Tapeats gorge below
Pumpkin Springs has now disappeared and the river is
lapping on a sandstone bench. It is a great wide river
that turns the corner at mile 209 covering the entire
island, racing breakneck downstream. In a short time we
are nearing the take-out at Diamond Creek, wondering
if we can make the pull-in. Unfortunately we can, and
again, about 4:30 July 5th, 1983 we take-out, ending our
three-day Grand Canyon trip.
Steve Nicholson
boatman’s quarterly review page 25