It was supposed to be an easy float down a wide creek with a stop for the night at a little camp ground right along the creek. Some of the two-man canoe teams carried the tents, other had food. Everyone carried his own personal gear in the boat as well. The canoe I was in had a tent and our personal gear including sleeping bags, clothes, scout knives, compasses, that sort of thing. I had some experience with canoes and knew how to paddle and steer using the “J-stroke” which allows you to give the boat forward energy and still control the side-to-side swing of the bow that comes with just straight paddling. The boy at the bow of my canoe was younger and less experienced. There were about a dozen boats in our group and each inexperienced boy was supposed to be paired with someone who knew what he was doing.
As soon as we had unloaded the canoes from the trailer, put our assigned gear into them and launched them into the stream, it became apparent that one of the boats was manned by two very inexperienced boaters. Neither boy knew how to steer the boat and, as a result, he and his partner went down the stream running aground on first one bank and then the other. The people at the front of the group hadn’t noticed the one canoe that was lagging behind. I decided that, rather than abandoning the two tyros to their fate, I would attempt to teach them how to guide their boat. I tried my best, but they never really did get the hang of it, and my boat and theirs had soon fallen a long way behind the rest of the group.
I took my Scout Oath quite seriously and, thus, felt a moral obligation to stay with the boys in the other boat. It was a good thing I did because, not only were we destined to be lost on this trip, but the rest of the group wound up in the same condition. Somewhere downstream there was supposed to be a sign that indicated the location of our camping spot for the night. What no one knew was that the sign had been posted on a fence that was being used to contain a herd of cattle. One of the things that cows do is scratch their backs on fences. In doing so, one of the cows had knocked down the sign that we were all looking for. The group in the lead missed the camping spot and ended up camping in a little park within a small town along the creek. The two boats in my group ran out of daylight well before we reached the spot and couldn’t have seen the sign even if the cow hadn’t knocked it down.
As we floated along in the dark, scanning the stream bank for some sign of the rest of the group, we heard the roar or some faster-moving water ahead. We only had a couple of flashlights among our personal gear and they weren’t very powerful, so we couldn’t see very far ahead, nor could we see very much along the sides of the stream. There was a landing of sorts at the head of the shallow, fast moving water. I hesitate to call it a “rapids,” but in the dark, the rocky shallow water was intimidating enough to cause us to stop and consider a strategy for navigating it. I didn’t dare let the two inexperienced boys try to get through it on their own, so I decided to tie the two canoes together side-by-side to give the boats more stability. It was too dark, and there were too many rocks, to attempt to just float down the fast water, so I and the other kid in my boat elected to wade down the stream holding the canoes and guiding them through the rocks. The water wasn’t too deep, nor was it very cold, and the night was warm, so getting into the water was no problem. We walked the boats down to the bottom of the fast water. It was quite smooth at that point, so we got back aboard and, leaving the two boats tied together, continued down the stream looking for the camp. We paddled along, still trying to locate the rest of the group, but found no sign of them. We thought that perhaps we might have missed the spot somewhere along the way and, after a while we decided to head back upstream to recheck the area.
It was more difficult moving upstream, and everyone was getting tired and we were certainly hungry. I was doing nearly all the paddling, the other boys were just too exhausted to be of much help. When we reached the fast water on our way upstream, we again got out of the boats and walked them up through the rocks. We paddled upstream further above the fast water, searching the banks for the campsite. We didn’t find it. We went back downstream, walked the boats down through the rocks again and searched. Finally, when we hadn’t found anything, we went back upstream and up through the rocks to the landing above the fast water. We pulled the boats up onto the bank and found a little clearing, right next to a cornfield where someone had recently been camping. There was a fire pit and enough space to set up camp, so we carried our gear up from the canoes, pitched our tents, unrolled our sleeping bags and, hungry, wet and tired, went to sleep.
We woke up early the next morning, hungry, but somewhat rested after a short night. It had been quite late by the time we had set up camp. Since we had already search the stream rather thoroughly the night before, we decided we’d start walking and try to find a road. There was a one-lane dirt trail that ran along the cornfield, so we set out on that path walking away from the stream. The corn planted in the field was just ripening field corn. Once it got ripe, it would turn hard and impossible for our human teeth to chew, but at that time it was soft, juicy and tender, or so the two boys who ate some of it told me. They had plucked a couple of ears from the stalks as we walked. Soon, we reach an established road and as we walked to its edge to have a look up and down it, a car raced by. It has just passed us when the driver locked up the brakes and slid to a stop. It was my father’s car. He had been driving up and down the roads paralleling the stream trying to find us. He was very happy that he had, and we were very happy to be found.
He explained to us that a cow had knocked down the campground sign and everybody had missed it. He told us that the rest of the group was just a couple of miles downstream from us and that we should get back in the boats and paddle down to where they were. He got back in the car to drive back to where the group was loading up their canoes and packing up their gear. We walked back to our little camp, packed up our stuff, loaded up the boats and got back into the stream. One last time, we walked the boats down the rocky, fast water and then got back aboard. It was a beautiful morning and we knew the end of our adventure was near. As we floated down the stream, we passed through deep stretch of water overhung with large trees. The fish in the stream were jumping up to catch the insects that were flying just above the water. As we floated along, one of the fish misjudged his jump and, instead of going over the boat, landed in the boat, right in front of me. I took off the pith helmet that I was wearing and slapped it down over the fish so he couldn’t jump out. Soon, he stopped struggling. I didn’t throw him back into the water because, first of all, who would believe he’s actually jumped into the boat, and second, I hadn’t had breakfast yet and thought he might be just the thing I needed for that meal.
Shortly after the fish jumping incident, we came upon a bridge that had fallen into the stream. This was where the rest of the group had left the water. They were waiting for us in the park just a few yards from the stream and helped us get the boats out of the water and our gear off-loaded. We cleaned the fish, loaded our gear into the car and we all drove back to camp. I had that fish for lunch while I told the rest of the boys the story of our adventure. We survived it without any problem because of our training. We were supposed to be able to do things like this and, when put to the test, had been quite able to use our training and knowledge to help us make the best of what could have been a very dangerous situation. As it was, we learned that we were capable of taking care of ourselves by using what we had been taught. I consider that a valuable lesson. I learned a great many others while I was a Boy Scout and they have been, and continue to be, of inestimable value in my life.
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