What a stark contrast, going from the scene of rescue efforts at Havasupai to this little office at the apartment complex where I work two days a week. I've gone from interviewing people who'd scrambled for their lives when a wall of water came rumbling through the narrow canyon to writing up maintenance work orders for tenants with clogged toilets.
The people who were rescued, many of whom had lost everything but the clothes on their backs, and some of those in just bathing suits and bare feet were in good spirits, while today I've dealt with tenants who are cranky because the staff haven't been quick enough replacing window blinds they (the tenants) broke. Wow. What a contrast indeed.
The flooding in Havasu Canyon began on Saturday afternoon, August 16, and was still happening on Monday the 18th. Havasu is a side canyon of the Grand Canyon, located about 30 miles west of the South Rim. Havasu Canyon is part of the Indian reservation of the same name, with the small village of Supai at the bottom. The village is accessible only by helicopter or an eight-mile hiking and pack-mule trail.
About 450 out of a total of roughly 650 members of the tribe live in Supai, and their primary source of income is tourist dollars from those who visit the incredibly beautiful waterfalls and pools about two miles down canyon from the village. At this time of year, a weekend can see hundreds of visitors, as was the case this past weekend when monsoon rains caused flash-flooding, which in turn breached an earthen dam near Williams, Arizona, exacerbating already dangerous conditions in Havasu. The usually blue-green water was running brown with mud, laden with debris and boulders.
Our unit was called out on Sunday morning, August 17, along with members of the Mohave County Search & Rescue team, the National Guard, National Park Service, members of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, the Department of Public Safety, Red Cross, Salvation Army, and probably others I'm not aware of.
Though there are certainly common elements, each person involved in the flood has a unique story, from the more than 400 tourists and Supai residents rescued by helicopter to the pilots and crew on those helicopters to both paid and volunteer rescue personnel in and on the rim of the canyon. During my interviews, which were intended to document everyone who came out of the canyon and find out if anyone in their party was missing or if they'd seen anyone injured or swept off by the flood, I heard many of those stories.
Most told of being suddenly awakened in the middle of the night by the loud rumble of water, falling rocks, and shouting. One man told me three kids had clung to a tree for hours until they were rescued. A couple and their dog were stranded on a rock in the middle of the flood. Sixteen people from a river trip, who had stopped at the confluence of Havasu Creek and the Colorado River, had to be short-hauled off a cliff after their boats were washed away and they'd had to quickly climb to avoid the same fate. I heard that two houses in Supai were lost.
For hours, I took names, addresses, dates of birth, and other information from evacuees, often waiting while they practically inhaled some food before they'd answer my next question. The Salvation Army provided food and drinks to the hungry and parched people airlifted out of the canyon, as well as to those of us working the evacuation.
One thing I noted as I watched the activity at the "Hilltop Helispot" location on the rim of Havasu Canyon, where evacuees were first "processed" after coming off the helicopters, is that one could not differentiate between those who were paid personnel and who were volunteers. All were working with enthusiasm or waiting with good spirits between assigned tasks. And when given a new task, each person jumped to work. While there are always opportunities to learn and improve, I was really impressed with the effort and the coordination between units and by how well everyone worked together. Overall, it was a successful effort, and as far as we know, there was no loss of life from the flood.
To be sure, however, air and ground searches are ongoing. And, as of Tuesday morning, I heard that residents of Supai who'd been evacuated were being allowed to return to their village, which has sustained considerable damage. The campground has apparently been wiped out. My husband and I are going to look into how we might go about volunteering in the rebuilding efforts.
Read the latest article in the Arizona Daily Sun here: Supai flood evacuees scramble to safety.
These are my stories as a volunteer member of the Sheriff's Search and Rescue team in Coconino County, Arizona. I'll share what it's like to go from a beginner with a lot to learn to an experienced and, hopefully, valuable member of the team, as well as the missions, training, and other activities along the way.
Two Nights In a Row and Now on Stand-by
So, I'm sitting here with my pack loaded, ready to be self-sufficient for 48 hours as instructed, waiting to be called to leave for the Grand Canyon with other members of our SAR team.
Last night around 8:00, my pager went off with an 888 code, meaning it was a stand-by call. Our coordinator's message said that four boats had been found floating down the Colorado River about 10 miles past the confluence with Havasu Creek. Life jackets were tied to the boats, but no one was on board. The boats were pulled from the river at Fern Glenn Rapid, but the status of the passengers was unknown. Sergeant D said he'd update us either late last night or early this morning.
By 9:30 a.m., there still had been no further update, so I decided to go running. When I returned, I found a cellphone message from one of our team leaders, asking if I'd be available from "now" through Tuesday night. I called him back and found out that the boat incident from last night had become part of a much larger situation, and the National Guard had been called in, too.
Flash-flooding had caused a dam break near Tusayan, in turn flooding Cataract Canyon, which leads into Havasu Canyon. Havasu Canyon then intersects with the Grand Canyon and the Colorado River. The Native American village of Supai, with 400-some-odd residents, is located at the bottom of Havasu Canyon, and that village is now being evacuated along with an unknown number of campers. Havasu Canyon is a popular destination, especially for its waterfalls and beautiful natural pools. At the moment, I don't know much more about the unfolding situation, but I was told that search and rescue will be asked to "look for bodies."
So, as I continue to sit here next to my backpack full of gear and 48 hours-worth of food and liquids, I'll tell you about Friday night's search.
Thursday night was the Kendrick Peak search for two men who'd tried to take a shortcut off the mountain that backfired quite miserably. I'd gotten up that morning around six and was just about to fall asleep Thursday night when my pager beeped at 11 p.m. That mission had lasted until 9:30 Friday morning, at which time I had to take care of a full day of obligations. At 8:00 Friday night, with no sleep since I'd gotten out of bed 38 hours earlier, my pager went off again. This time, it was a call-out for a search for two young men in the area of the Arizona Trail on Anderson Mesa near Flagstaff.
So, off I went for a second time in two nights. I soon found out that the two lost hikers had called 9-1-1 from a cell phone, so I figured this probably wouldn't be a tough mission. There are all sorts of Forest Service roads up on the mesa, so access shouldn't be a problem. And by the time we got to the staging area, the helicopter had spotted the two men and provided coordinates.
But getting to them wasn't quite as easy. Four members of our group set off on foot along the Arizona Trail, while Bob and I drove rough dirt roads at a snail's pace. The hikers were no longer on the AZ Trail but on one of those secondary forest roads, and we didn't know if we could get all the way to them by vehicle.
Sure enough, a large mud puddle put a stop to our driving, so Bob and I set off on foot. We had some trouble locating the intersection with the obscure road the hikers were on, and in the meantime, the other ground-pounder team reached the young men.
As we finally located the intersection, the team with the hikers headed our way, and soon we met up and walked to the truck. We skirted around the big mud puddle and everybody piled in, with some of our team in the truck bed. Bob and I gave 'em a good teeth-rattling and sore heineys on the ride back, but all was well that ended well.
I returned home at 2 a.m. Saturday and got the best six hours of sleep I think I've ever had. Probably could have used more, but the sun shining through the window wouldn't let me stay in bed.
And now I'll go back to my waiting and knee-bouncing with my backpack at the ready until it's time to go to the Grand Canyon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)