Read Wet Desert: Tracking Down a Terrorist on the Colorado River Online
Authors: Gary Hansen
* * *
8:15 p.m. -
Julie saw Greg look at his watch. They had made good time from Warm Creek. Since most of the boats had gone the safer route, the lower canyon had not been nearly as crowded. The boats had taken advantage, spreading out and going full blast. The water was rough, but not unbearable. Greg had even leaned over at one point and commented to Julie that if they weren't in danger, it could have been fun, going full bore, racing other boats down through the narrows. Julie was still nervous, but she was glad she had come.
When they approached
Julie noticed that the ramp was in fact isolated high on the rock wall, well out of reach of the boats. The current was moving very fast in the channel, but she was comfortable they could overcome the current and make the turn into
The jaunt continued and after a while Julie wondered how far it would be. Finally, they rounded a bend and they could see a mile ahead to where the
As they approached the fork, the water became rougher, and the Mastercraft jarred up and down loudly. Then Julie saw something that made her heart stop. A small green and white striped boat was running on the left edge of the pack of speeding boats. A man and a woman were in the boat. Julie saw the small boat was having trouble with the waves, actually coming clear of the water a couple of times. Then the driver lost control and the boat veered sharply to the left and rolled twice before stopping on its side. It filled with water. Julie scanned the surface for the two passengers and held her breath until both their heads bobbed to the surface. They looked to be at least thirty feet from their boat. Instantly, Julie knew that without intervention, they would both be sucked over the dam, and killed. But the risk to anyone who tried to help would be too great. Greg had seen it too and looked over at Julie.
Julie made the decision. She nodded vigorously.
Greg didn't hesitate. He weaved through the boats to the left of them, and headed for the two people in the water. The current was already dragging them around the corner and when Julie caught sight of them, she could see the Glen Canyon Dam visitor center on the hill behind them. Although it was almost a mile away, it didn't look far enough. At the rate of the current, they would be pulled past the dam in a minute. Greg looped behind the two, and drove right between them.
"Throw them something!" he yelled.
Julie, now panicky, ran to the back of the boat and started pulling the water-ski rope out of a small compartment. She looked downstream and saw what remained of the Glen Canyon Dam, the broken concrete protruding from the cliffs on both sides. She willed herself to ignore it, and threw the tangled rope toward the woman. The coils of rope landed right on her head. The woman began pulling herself hand over hand toward the Mastercraft. Julie pulled on the other end. In the meantime the man had swum to the back of the boat and was trying to climb in. He had difficulty with the ladder before finally climbing up and falling awkwardly into the boat. Julie had pulled the woman to the back, but the woman made no move to climb in.
"My leg," she said, her face showing intense pain.
"Hurry!"
Greg urged.
Julie lunged toward the man on the floor who was trying to stand up. She grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet. She looked at the woman again, then at Greg. "Her leg is hurt. We're going to have to lift her." Greg left the steering wheel for a second to look at the woman,
then
returned quickly to the controls.
"Flip her around so
her
back is against the boat. It's easier."
Julie remembered once when she was too tired to climb in the boat after water-skiing. Greg and Paul had lifted her in that way.
She and the man climbed out on the platform on the rear deck and they each grabbed an arm. Julie saw that the dam was approaching much too quickly.
"Ready?" the man said.
Julie nodded and they both pulled. The lady was heavier than Julie expected and Julie lost her balance. She had no choice but release her grip. The woman slipped back in the water.
"Can you do this?" the man asked nervously.
Julie nodded. She had just underestimated. As she prepared for the next pull, she saw what looked like a group of policeman up on the right shore, near the dam. They were waving frantically at the boaters.
Julie braced herself and looked at the man. He nodded and they both pulled hard. The lady came up out of the water, and all three of them fell into the boat. She felt the Mastercraft accelerate immediately. She pulled herself up to her knees.
Greg had the boat going full blast and was heading up the river, but they were only gaining ground slowly. When Julie looked back, she saw that they had been close enough that the wake was now rolling over the remnants of the dam. She looked up on the canyon walls and saw that the policemen were clapping and thrusting their fists into the air. Julie crawled forward and hugged her husband's leg.
* * *
8:30 p.m. -
David was out of the raft again. They all were. The water had risen to where the canyon spread out. There were finally flat places to stand. That was the good news. The bad news was that where they had been in a protected canyon before, if the water rose any higher, they would now be exposed. And it was very dark. Deep in the canyon, the sun had set long ago. The last remaining rays touched the west-facing rocks thousands of feet above them.
The river, which an hour before had been expanding from its channel, now enjoyed free rein to flow where it wanted.
Although it was getting too dark to be sure, David guessed the big, black expanse of water to be a half mile across.
* * *
8:40 p.m. -
The Mastercraft merged back with the other boats entering
With the water down over a hundred feet, the entrance to Wahweap felt like a canyon. The walls were narrow and steep, and Greg and the other boats had to slow to get through safely.
Only a few minutes later, the canyon opened into the wide expanse of
CHAPTER 23
9:15 p.m. -
Back in the visitor center, Grant felt like sleeping. If he hadn't known better, he would have sworn he left
He walked over to the wall of windows in the visitor center and looked out at Hoover Dam. The lights on the canyon walls lit up the dam like daylight. The dam itself was buzzing with action. The trucks kept coming. The sandbag dike had grown steadily along the upstream side of the dam, now reaching almost ten feet high in some sections. At the current rate, they were on target to finish the upstream portion by 3 or 4 a.m. - just in time, based on the projection that the water would rise above the concrete dam somewhere between 6:00 and 9:00. But it would be close. Then the slower and more difficult task of building it up to fifteen feet would begin. Grant could not see the old man with the bullhorn on the dike, and guessed that he must have taken a break. Hopefully the stackers had learned something and a sandbag wouldn't be misplaced in his absence.
Fred walked up behind Grant while he was gazing out the window. "You look beat."
"Yeah, I think it just caught up to me."
"You want me to find you a room for a couple hours? That casino between here and
"There's no way I could sleep tonight, but thanks anyway."
It was quiet for a minute, while both men watched the action on the dam. Grant broke the trance and looked over at Fred. "You think it'll work?"
"What?
The dam?"
Fred hesitated, and rubbed his chin. "I guess that depends on your girl's estimates. If she's right about the water levels, sure, I think it'll hold. The old man definitely knows what he's doing with the sand bags."
They were both silent for a few moments, staring out the windows, before Fred smiled and spoke again. "They're calling it 'Hoover-Two', you know."
Grant turned, raising his eyebrows. "What, the dike? Who is?"
Fred pointed down at the dam. "I think the soldiers started it. But I heard 'Hoover-Two' in the visitor center a few minutes ago. It seems to be catching on."
Grant looked back at the dam.
Hoover-Two.
It seemed appropriate. A small dam built on top of the famous one below. He wondered why he hadn't thought of it himself. He looked back at Fred.
"Hoover-Two."
He felt the words roll off his tongue. "I like it. Let's just hope Hoover-Two's legacy will be a success."
Fred nodded.
"Yup.
There's a lot riding on it, that's for sure."
Grant changed the subject. "What's been happening downstream?"
Fred glanced up.
"Nothing yet.
We know
Grant pondered the data. "Once her spillways are running at full tilt, Mojave should be able to hold her level, right?"
"Yeah.
Theoretically."
Grant pursed his lips, trying to imagine the spillways at Davis Dam. "They've never been tested at full capacity, have they?"
Fred smiled. "Course not."
Grant smirked. "That would be too good to be true."
Fred shrugged. "We have to trust them. They were designed specifically to keep up with
A thought kept nagging Grant. "How certain are we that Parker's spillways can really handle it? Isn't that just theoretical too?"
Fred rubbed his forehead.
"Same story.
None of the spillways have ever been tested at capacity." Fred turned toward Grant. "Why are you asking me all these questions? You work for the Bureau too."
Grant nodded. "My guys in
Fred showed a hint of satisfaction at Grant's remark. "If I were betting, and I am from Vegas, I'd bet on the Bureau's numbers. They may be desk jockeys today, but these three dams were all designed over fifty years ago. Those boys got out in the sun and got their hands dirty. They ran their calculations on slide rules. They checked their numbers,
then
checked them again. Yeah, I trust them."