As we were prepping on the ramp and chatting, just really thoroughly preparing but in a light-hearted mood, I noted a pickup back down the boat ramp next to the kayak mats with a nice jon boat in tow. The ramp at Fourntainhead is very busy with mostly small craft like jon boats, so I barely gave this situation much attention. I stood looking in his direction while pulling my pfd straps really tight. When one floats in the water the pfd will try to rise up if it is not very tight.
The pickup driver opened his door after stopping, stepped one foot out, and slipped. He grabbed his door which instantly swung in on him. He slipped again, and was flailing. Suddenly the pickup was backing up powerfully. Straight back into the reservoir. The door swung wide and I watched him get PULLED under his truck. It all happened so damned fast. He was under the water and then back up flailing and clawing at his truck.
I will never forget the look on his face as he went under.
Becky yelled "oh shit oh shit oh shit!" and started running into the water. I was about three steps behind her but moving carefully. First rule we learned in Wilderness First Aid class was "take care of you first, do not become a victim." I was mindful of the obviously slippery ramp and the powerful truck, which was drifting backwards. The boat was off its trailer and floating free.
Kat had already been in her boat and so was drifting near the loose jon boat. As Becky and I reached the driver he was trying to sit in his sinking truck. He looked confused, but said "My boat, get my boat," and some other garbled stuff about his truck. He seemed focused on trying to restart the truck. Becky yelled at some witnesses milling around on the shore, "Go get help!" and I told Kat to try to rope in the loose jon boat. I wanted him to forget the boat, directing someone to get it in order to have him focus more on himself.
I turned to shore and no one had moved. Some stood with cell phones, clearly shooting pics. I yelled, loud, in my field voice "GO GET THE PARK PEOPLE!" and pointed up the stairs, staring until one ran up the stairs. I turned around, standing at his open door and said "hey buddy, we gotta get you out of here." He told me he thought his leg was broken, he (strangely I thought) propped it up on the door to show me where the truck had run over him. He said he thought maybe he had thrown it into gear when reaching back into the truck. The truck wheel had caught him and sucked him under the truck, running over his leg and leaving a deep abraded wound on his heel.
He wanted to start his truck and drive it out. It was both sinking and floating. The bed had filled with water with a rushing sound, quite alarming. Stuff from the bed started floating. The water was around his chest, and I kept insisting, trying to coax him out of the truck. He started to get out, felt maybe the slippery surface, his leg was hurt, and he clawed back into the truck, saying "no no, I can drive it out. If I can start it." He propped his leg up on the door again to look at it. I realized he was in shock and not himself.
About this time Joan had gotten to me. Becky and Kat were moving the jon boat, which turned out to have significant mass. Joan's kind demeanor, her small quiet self, seemed to reinforce that he needed to leave the truck. The truck gave a lurch and bump, water slooshing around his shoulders and suddenly his eyes were wide and he said "we, we gotta get out of here!" And I said "yes, yes we do. We got you, we'll help you to shore. We are wearing life vests and we'll float you back to shore." Joan murmured reassurance as he slipped out of the cab. She took his right and I his left, getting his arm around my shoulder.
He had clearly been suffering from shock but once we sat him down he seemed to clear up. At first he had said we needed to rescue the truck but with in a few moments he was wondering if it was totalled, and if a tow truck could even tow it out. He wondered how he would get his trailer out of the water. He asked about his boat and we pointed it out, resting against the ramp.
We stood around as he received first aid from the park service gal, whom we had been chatting with earlier, before all this, as we prepped. Another employee was filling out an accident report. I offered my name and phone number as a witness, in case it was needed. I also said I could easily contact the other club members.
(edit: I forgot that Becky waded back out and collected his insurance card and other things that were floating away. She also fished around and got his keys for him out of the truck's ignition. Maybe we did more for him than I thought at first blush.)
We started to wrap up our part. Collecting ourselves, I realized I had never introduced myself. Things moved too fast, but I stopped now and asked his name and gave him mine. I told him the park service had my contact info if needed. I patted his shoulder and wished him a better day.
As we wrapped up I shot a couple of photos, knowing I would blog later. When I looked back at the photos I was impressed by how not right it looks to see a bit of truck poking up from the water's surface.
There are two ways to look this incident. If one is a glass half empty person, then he had a terrible day, bad bad luck. But if one is a glass half full person, as I usually am, then he was a lucky lucky guy. He should go buy a lottery ticket. He had both gotten run over by his own truck, and was under water and easily could have drowned. And yet, there he sat on the ramp, alive. Very much alive.
For myself, when I saw him go under, saw his face, I thought in a split second, that our efforts were going to be much more strenuous, that we were going to have to get him out from under the truck. But when he popped back up, the relief was instant. All we had to do was get him to shore. So easy.
Still, I learned a couple of things:
-Most people will be paralyzed, amazed by an unfolding accident. But my fellow club members, having trained so many times for worst case scenarios, we seemed to move with a tight precision, a little machine.
-Another thing, some how the younger generation tend to reach for their phones and press "record," not dial 911. Not so useful in an emergency.
-A small fact I filed away is that a gal in a kayak can not control another floating vessel unless she has both hands on her paddle. I had forgotten Kat does not wear a tow harness, so she had no way to move the jon boat. It turned out Becky was able to maneuver it more handily from in the water.
I am sure, over time, as I reflect back I will find mistakes I made. But all in all, we helped, we did no harm, and we left a clean scene. We didn't do much, but we did it right. Not bad. Not bad at all.
Later, I managed to self rescue twice in my newish Surf, and practice assisted rescues easily. Joan tried a classic cowboy self rescue, and did it, not once but twice! Becky practiced wet exits, and Kat nailed down her own self-rescue in her newish boat. I think we had a pretty good day. Yes, it was a pretty good day.
