From 2004 - Guadalupe Waterfall

The exposure is not the best, but I kept this one as a favorite of 2004 because of the moment. We were on the upper Guadalupe, and I insisted that my brother, Allan, take a picture next to the waterfall. He and his girlfriend paddled over there, but it was very difficult to hold position because of the water pouring in. Nevertheless, I took my time, asking them to move here and there for a better shot. Think I even chuckled inside watching them struggle to maneuver at the beck of my commands.

However, I must have forgotten the surest rule of life, which is "What goes around comes around." It wasn't long at all before that bit of sadistic pleasure at their expense came back around to me in a big, big way.
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We have a nephew named Tony, from Taiwan. Tony didn't have much of a life there, doing nothing but study, work and help around the house. So when he came to the U.S. to visit, I felt it was my duty to teach him to have fun. No better place than my brother Allan's place in Wimberley - Allan is an adventuring risk taker that has a persuasive way of bringing other people into his world.

It was decided after our arrival to go canoeing in the upper Guadalupe. Upriver it had rained heavily the night before, so the water was fast and swollen. After a few hiccups in getting started, we headed off down the river; Allan and his girlfriend led the way with Tony and I following in their wake; Tony was in the front of our canoe generally keeping his paddle out of the water while I did the work from the stern.

The going was fairly smooth, with a few small rapids made a little more interesting by the previous day's weather. Allan would lead the way, acting as our guide in avoiding boulders and the faster portion of the rapids. Pretty soon after taking the picture in today's posting, he shouted a warning back to us that a rapid was ahead that was a little worse...easily a class II with a little extra boost due to the rains. We agreed to stay right behind him on the inside of the bend, as the river at that point took a turn to the left.

Right about that time we heard a fellow on the shore, walking and shouting, "King, King!!" Allan asked, and he told us that he'd lost track of his dog.

In a few moments the rapid was in sight. We heard the roar of the water gradually rise as it sloshed violently around the boulders, especially in the middle of the river and along the outside edge where it moved fastest. I'd determined not to lose Allan, following in his wake as closely as safely possible. Tony was on strict orders to leave his paddle out of the water.

Then, incredibly, we saw a dog in the water - undoubtedly King was trying to fight his way through the current toward his master's voice. He was on the inside where the water was slowest, so made some progress upstream. Allan shouted a warning to avoid the dog because he might try to board.

Sure enough, King headed for Allan's canoe. Allan deftly avoided him with a few paddle strokes and, having been unsuccessful with him, King headed straight for us. I thought, "Oh my gosh, surely he won't try to board our canoe..." Allan's maneuver distracted me, and we were already out of his wake, toward the middle of the river with the ever-faster moving water just as the rapid was beginning.

With the faster water King was losing progress, so he had no choice but to board our canoe. When he got close enough to try I knew it was either him or us, so pushed him away with my paddle. That move caused the back of the canoe to slide sideways, positioning our craft perpendicular to the current while at the same time causing us to swing further to the outside curve of the bend of the river. A double whammy!

By now we were traveling fast, with the swiftest part of the current in a position that made it impossible to maneuver. After the few seconds it took to deal with King, I looked up just in time to see Tony get whacked in the head by a willow branch hanging from the opposite shore (of where we should have been). That's when I got the bright idea to grab one of the branches and hang on for dear life, using my feet on the gunwale to maneuver the front of the canoe in aligning us parallel to the current.

At first it seemed possible that my plan would work, but after an interminable five seconds or so the water proved too strong for my legs, and over we went! The canoe capsized, dumping me, Tony and all of its contents into the water. There was no choice now but to ride it out. Tony could not swim, but was wearing a life jacket and could be seen bobbing through the rapid. I stayed with the overturned canoe and rode it out, dodging rocks and boulders until the worst was over. My first thought was about the camera, my Fujifilm FinePix 3800, which had been hastily packed into its bag, which itself was tied to the gunwale. My heart sank, knowing that my friend was done for, and that it would take some explaining to the wife as to why I now needed to buy another one.

We bobbed along with the current until the rapid spit us out into calmer waters. Tony was about 50 feet ahead of me, just drifting along. I began to shout reassurances to him that everything would be all right, and all he needed to do was move to the shore. After a quarter mile or so he made his way to a clearing and slogged onto the mud. I followed him, and together we hauled the canoe onto the bank, leaving it upside down to drain, but not before untying the camera container. I opened the outer (supossedly waterproof) bag, then the camera bag itself, and found water sloshing around inside on the bottom. The camera would turn on, but the screen was goners. My heart sank again. Just to go through the motions of doing everything I knew was possible, I took the batteries out, opened the door where the chip was plugged in, removed the chip, and left it out to dry.

Right about this time Tony looked at me and said, "Uncle Jim, now I am sure that I had an adventure!" This would have struck me as hilarious were it not for the death of my friend.

An what was Allan doing? He'd stopped ashore midway through the inside bend and laughed at us, but not before jumping in to save King the dog.

We decided to eat lunch there, so ate and rested a bit before re-embarking in calmer waters. I packed the camera back into its case and bag. The rest of the trip was uneventful.

In the car I reopened the camera and left it on the dash to dry as much as possible, with the slim hope that something was salvageable. Guess it worked, because upon arrival at the house my father in law put fresh batteries in and it turned on, snapping pictures that had not deteriorated at all in quality. I didn't find out until much later that the it would no longer focus in video mode, but what a small price to pay. From that moment Fuji won a very loyal customer.