Trip Report: White Water Rafting in ME

06 Sept 2008.

The paperwork said we had to be there at 7:30am. It was 7:15am when we left Dunkin Donuts. It didn't look good.

The original plan had been to grab breakfast at the inn's restaurant, unfortunately arrangements needed to be made the previous night, a fact that eluded us until about 10pm. The backup plan was to zip into town and hit a diner. As we flew down the road, it became obvious a sit down breakfast was not going to be in the cards. A quick gas station breakfast was all we had time for.

Suffice it to say (and don't ask how), we made it back with time to spare. Of course, it is worth noting we were the first complete group to arrive.

We were going to be rafting the Penobscot River with Penobscot Adventures.

The Rapids of the Penobscot

After the requisite safety lecture ("Never let go of your T-handle," "Get out from under the boat in event of a flip," "Wait a few seconds after surfacing before inhaling" ), we boarded our chariot to the rapids, a blue school bus. There was a nervous energy on the bus, for the majority, this was their first rafting adventure and they had no idea what they were in for.

At the put in point, the groups split up, the guides reiterated the safety instructions, and the groups carried the rafts to the river. We put in north of Nesowadnehunk falls (Class 4) and immediately paddled away from it (North) to practice paddling and executing our guides commands.

Our guide for the day was Tony P., a four year veteran with Penobscot Adventures, and a bit of a character making him the perfect person for our group. When we got quiet, he'd toss us a joke and would even jump in when we poked fun at each other. Needless to say, he fit in with us perfectly.

So, after our brief operational instruction, we headed towards the Falls. The Falls are a Class 4, not for any technical difficulty, merely because there is a 10ft drop. I say merely not to denigrate the falls, but to put the difficulty of running them in the proper perspective.

So, our boat of novices (3 people had gone rafting before, including the guide), approaches their first taste of white water.

Nesowadnehunk Falls - 1st Approach

As the last picture is snapped, the rush of water catches the right side of the boat unprepared. The entire side (except the guide) washes overboard, myself included.

As I wash overboard, I drag my hand behind me, endeavouring (as instructed during the safety briefing) to catch the rope that runs along the side of the boat. I was successful. We cleared the rapid and Jacky (my left side equiv) grabs my PFD and lifts me aboard, after which I turn around and do the same to the next person I see. In the course of a few seconds we had managed to restore the boat to its original capacity.

A word about going overboard. I don't remember taking a deep breath before it happened. I've talked with others that knew they were going over and many times they speak of taking a deep breath before submersion. I don't recall that. What I do recall, vividly, is the feeling as my hand drags for the rope, the felling of other people in the water thrashing around you, on top of you, under you, and of course the surprise when I was pulled aboard that I hadn't let go of my paddle.

After this fun, Tony talked to us about what other fun could be had at the Falls. There is surfing, where the boat goes nose first into the falls, dowsing the front part of the boat (there's more to it than that, there needs to be a hole in the water where the guide can wedge the boat, using the water's natural flow to keep the raft in the surf). The other option is to paddle to a natural staircase, lift the boat out of the water and do it again. We of course choose to do both.

Initially, surfing, for me at least, was an apprehensive experience. I could feel the boat fighting the water (and being on the right side still) felt the exact same feeling I felt before going in, the boat leaning impossibly to one side. By the end of our play at the Falls, I got over that feeling (experience is the master teacher), but at this point it was very real.

After carrying the boat up the "staircase" (read: slippery rocks that look nothing like stairs), the lead row wanted to switch. It is worth noting the lead row, John in particular, was "volunteered" for that position by the group. So switching up was a fair thing to do. Ryan took John's place (I'm sorry but for the life of me I can't recall who was paired with them).

Ryan (starboard front) leading us over the Falls (as John (port rear) sits next to Tony)

The second (and third) time we went over the Falls we didn't lose anyone. Likewise, surfing held no surprises as we all started to understand what the raft was telling us. Although it is worth noting that Ryan had some great movements in the surf, growling and shouting, like a bear grabbing for trout, as his head was repeatedly battered by the water.

After playing a bit more, we paddled over to a natural water slide formed by run off from Mt Katahdin. I'll admit it was kind cool zipping down a natural water slide. And I do mean that literally. The mountain run off was far colder than the river proper. The river temperature was a touch over 60f, the run off felt at least 10f below that.

The reason the groups spent so much time playing on the Falls and slide was there were no more rapids for a while. For the next hour or two we floated down the river, paddling occasionally. This is where taking a camera really would have paid off. The surroundings were beautiful, from a hawk perched on a rock, taking to the air as we passed, to a family of ducks swimming like a train on the side of the river, Hikers waving from the forest and fishermen ignoring us. Long, but immensely beautiful.

It was around here that my light breakfast started to become an issue. With an hour to go, I started to get ravenous. If this were a bike ride, I would have just grabbed a power bar or gel, some quick nutrition. Unfortunately, none of those were available, so I suffered. I firmly believe this is why I can't recall any details about the last three rapids of the morning (Abol, Little Pock, and Big Pock (4,3,4) ). (The events of the afternoon may have also played a small part in that as well...)

At the lunch take-out, we had to take the rafts out of the water for transport to the afternoons rapids. Maybe it was me, but the raft seemed so much heavier after a morning of paddling than it did when we first put it in...

Before we get to the afternoon's adventures, a word or two must be written about lunch. In a single word, awesome. When we setup the trip we were given a choice for lunch options: steak, chicken, or vegetarian. The steak was the choice. Anyone who ever rafted with Penobscot Adventures, knew steak was the choice. As a mater of fact, there was even a person who exchanging her vegetarian option for steak. I think that says something about the steak. The sides were great too, a sweet rice, pasta salad, cookies for desert, and rolls. Protein, cabs, and simple sugars; everything you need to recover and get back on the river and do it again.

And after lunch that's exactly what we did. We were bussed up to the McKay station put-in. Immediately after the put in, you face class 5 rapids. Obviously the guides wanted to introduce new commands and underscore the importance of obedience. (we'll get to that shortly).

It was at this point, the previous two lead paddlers decide to "be nice" and let others take a shot at the first row. No one volunteered so it became a co-worker thing. Four people on this trip were co-workers. Two had taken a turn at the front of the boat, they weren't going to allow the remaining two (myself and Jacky) go home without doing the same. So, for not taking the initiative in the class 3-4 lower section, we were going to be leading the way through the class 5s. Lucky us.

The thing about rafting is it's all about feet position. When your feet are secure, you can withstand some tricky water. The catch is the front row doesn't have the luxury. You have nothing to tuck your feet under in front of you (like the rest of the boat), you have to tuck you feet behind you, a contortion that, well, just doesn't work very well. So you tuck one of your feet behind you and wedge the other in front of you and hope it's sufficient. Never been on the front before, insecure footing, going into class 5s... Not feeling to happy here....

Anyway, after we put in, we practice our new commands and perhaps the most important command. Obedience, which, of course, isn't really a command, just a blind continuation of the previous command until it is countermanded. Tony tests us on this one by having us charge full ahead... directly into the wall of the gorge. Which we did. The point being we will get in a serious bit of trouble if we second guess him. Class 5 rapids are not trivial and justly called "Extremely Difficult" in the International Scale of River Difficulty, so a "bit of trouble" can get serious quickly. Oh, and don't forget, I've never been on the front before, am unsure of my footing, going into class 5 rapids....

So, we get the word, paddle all ahead into the hydroplant's wash. The density of violent water always surprises me. In calm waters, the paddle easily moves the water back; in violent water it becomes a struggle. Into this violent wash, we charged. Closer and closer to the actual plant itself until we hit the right spot and voom, we spun and rode the wash straight into the rapids.

And in an instant, all fear of being on the front disappeared. On the front you could see the rapids coming. You could brace yourself, you could set your weight to react appropriately, you could, in essence, surf the rapids. Hell holds no fear for the the men at the front.

Ripogenus gorge: Exterminator

At this point, Jacky and I are feeling pretty good about being stuck up front as we're setting up for the next series of rapids. Of course, that's when the trouble starts... On one of the next rapids, the boat zigged in such a way that Jacky was flung from his position. In a stroke of good luck, the direction he was flung to the other side of the boat. To my side of the boat, that is to say, he was thrown directly into my head.

I felt the boat take an unexpected twist, but I was concentrating on what was coming ahead (and probably paddling). I don't think I saw Jacky come across the boat, I recall seeing a bit of white coming in fast, then CRACK something hard hit the left side of my head/face. I see a body drop in the front section of the boat, limbs askew (not secured to anything). I drop down and grab the life jacket and yell, "I've got you." At this point, I have no idea who this is (I think the hit was a little harder than I'd like to admit ;-) ), but we're still going through rapids, and I don't want to lose anyone over the side.

After a moment or two, Jacky was able to secure himself and we both returned to our positions and resumed paddling out of the rapids. I'd be surprised if the whole indecent took more than 3 seconds.

A little while later we took shelter in an eddy, to rest, wait for the other rafts, and discuss our plan of attack on The Cribworks. But for me, this was time that I could adjust my shades, which had become dislodged due to cranial impact. Slight plug here. Kudoes to Bolle, their shades remained secure to my face throughout the whole day, a direct impact being the only thing that slightly dislodged them (they were still on my face, just diagonal).

Breather had, Tony began the Cribworks run briefing. In contrast to the Exterminator (a "Power through it rapid"), the Cribworks was technical. This meant commands could come fast and short, ahead, right back, all back, all ahead, you may get only one stroke in before having to change it up. Near the end of the run, there is a "hole" that you can surf. In other words, you can slot your raft so you surf, play in this hole. Similar to what we had done at the beginning of the day at the falls. Of course, there is a "minor" catch, slotting into this hole is not trivial. As Tony repeatedly said, "I don't what's going to happen..." The way he explained it, one of three things could happen. One: we do everything perfectly and get some choice surfing. Righteous! Two: we mess up our entry and bop out the other side, no surfing for you :-( Three: we hit the entry correct, but mess up setting up the surf and the raft flips. Of course, the final option is we do everything right and the water changes quicker than we can react and flips us. He drummed it into us, that there was a very good chance we were going to flip and a very small chance we were going to do this right.

Given the fact we (and one other boat) were going to attempt to surf, the two remaining boats went ahead, to catch anyone thrown overboard. Once they had cleared, we entered The Cribworks.

The Cribworks Assault

In a nutshell, the 'works consists of three major parts, the later of which being where we were going to attempt to surf. The added difficulty being, in order to surf it "properly" we needed to make our entry sideways.

We nailed the first two parts, even doing a full 360 at one part, and nailed the entry into the last part. Perfect slotting. We hit the drop and rode up the side, almost coming out (option 2), sliding back in ( option 1), then the water (option 4), tried to pull us back out again ultimately pulling us back in (option 3). As the raft approached 90 degrees, I got launched across the boat, either over Jacky or directly into him (I sure don't recall which). Either way, the boat flipped, and we all crashed into the water, into the later part of The Cribworks.

Again, I don't recall taking a large breath before going in, nor do I recall the initial hit of the water. What I recall vividly was starting to float up and having the water above me filled with bodies. No panic yet. Then feeling myself near the surface... ah, sweet oxygen, but wait... thunk... the boat...thunk....I'm under the boat.... thunk... where is the edge of the boat.... thunk....WHERE....splash....under the boat, bad, deep breath back in the water swim....surface...ah unfettered oxy....spash...frak forgot to wait before breathing, spit, no inhalation no problem.... crash, bump, scrape go the rocks...surface...Where am I, got to get to the left (one thing mentioned at the Cribworks briefing).... swim... how do you swim efficiently with a paddle... hey there's Ryan, he doesn't look happy... where is his helmet...

In a nutshell, that's my brain during this crisis. At this point my arms were toast, a combination of oxygen deprivation and paddle exertion (I don't think I swam very hard at this point), so I figured I'd swim over to Ryan by flipping on my back and kicking torpedo style towards him. Beyond him was a boat that we were drift towards so I didn't see any imminent danger, we had cleared the rapid and were in a brief calm area. After rolling over, not 5 or so feet behind me I see Ryan's helmet bobbing. That is worth an exertion to recover. Of course after picking up his helmet, now I really can't swim. I have a paddle in one hand and a helmet in the other. Ryan's being picked up by the boat now and they are telling me to swim over.

When I get to the edge, I think I really annoyed my "rescuer." Instead of being lifted out I kept handling him stuff to take in, my paddle, Ryan's helmet... I was holding on to the edge of the boat, on the left side, the water was calm, I didn't see any reason for panic or rush.

Now this boat was overloaded, so everyone had to paddle to ensure our safe passage to an eddy where we could regroup and swap passengers. The last one in, I was on the front again, more so then before because now there wasn't space to tuck one of my feet in. No worries (read:no brains). I paddled and paddled and paddled and we were there. This whole time I was marveling at how much my body was complaining about oxygen deprivation. Even now, I don't recall anytime where I felt I REALLY needed to breathe (that moment of panic), but my cardiovascular system seemed to tell a different tale.

When we could regroup, the group was none the worse for wear. A few more bruises, a few scrapes but no serious injuries. We had a few miles to take our helmets off and take it easy. A well deserved breather.

We had returned to our pre-tip positions, so Jacky and I were on the front again and as the group relates our flip experiences, sans helmets, Jacky and I are eyeballing approaching rapids. At a certain point, we steal a glance and agree to put our helmets on. Soon after, as the rapids get closer, the rest of the boat begins to the the same, save Ryan and Tony. Closer.... Closer.... Closer... and then we're on them!

And they are nothing. Class 1s. A little bobbing and we're through, to which Tony says, "Whew, that was something! Aren't you glad you put your helmets on for those class 1s?"

The last rapid of the day was Amberjack. Our plan was to once again try and surf this one. Unfortunately we seriously messed up our approach and wound up "just" going over (which was a bit of fun on its own) instead of getting our surfing in.

Without a doubt that was the most disappointing part of the trip. After messing up our last setup, there are no more rapids to play with all you have left is the take out. Of course, there was a place for cliff diving or you could slid down the last rapid sans boat ("body rapids", coining a new phrase here). Neither of which interested our boat, possibly because we had forcibly experienced a tad of the later and the former held no comparative Adrenalin rush.


All told, an awesome trip. I, and everyone we rafted with, strongly recommend rafting with Penobscot Adventures. Each guide tailored the experience to the level of risk his boat was willing to try. For us and a boat of more seasoned rafters, that was closer to the extreme side. For the other two boats, one of which included a couple celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary, not so much. Everyone did the same rapids, some just took more difficult paths to accomplish the same goal.

All in all, a great time.

The Gang, on land, sans Tony.