eff Tallent Chota Canoe Club
Paddlers Rescue Rec Kayakers on Clear Creek
Clear Creek (TN) Barnett to Jett Class II
The problem with these mountain whitewater rivers we all love so much is they put them right square in the middle of mountains. It’s not always practical to scout the next rapid, let alone walk back to your car when things go sidewise. So, hats off to Mason Kelley. Because of him, a dad and his 15-year-old son did not have to spend the night on the banks of Clear Creek last night following a swim. Temps were in the 40s and the dad was wearing damp jeans.
Mason had been at the put in at Jett bridge when he struck up a conversation with the mom. She had just dropped her husband and son off at the put in at Barnett bridge. I got to meet her later. She seemed like the very pleasant soccer-mom type, but out of her element on the river. I guess Mason got the same impression, and that’s why he started asking questions about her paddlers, their gear, and their experience.
Their gear was Walmart variety sit-on-top flatwater fishing kayaks. It was not clear what sort of pfds they had, if any. Their gear did not include helmets and it certainly did not include dry suits. Mason asked about their experience. The answer the woman gave was a number, and that number was “zero.
Mason abandoned his plans and instead rushed to Barnett to find the dad and talk him off the cliff.The water was frigid that day. The class II rapids were on the spicy side in places. I doubt even really good paddlers would have made it far in those boats without capsizing. The Barnette to Jett run is noted for undercut rocks, and on this day, it also had a river-wide strainer two miles in that could certainly be life threatening.
When Mason got to the put in, the father and son were already gone. So, being Mason, he solo paddled after them. He found one boat floating upside down about a mile downstream. He did not find the second boat or either of the paddlers. He assumed they were attempting to walk out but couldn’t rule out the possibility that they were dead and in the water.
Mason paddled the four and a half miles to Jett bridge, where he caught up with a crew of paddlers he knew. I was part of that crew. We were, ourselves, finishing Barnette to Jett run and were resting up for the two-and-a-half-mile trip on down to Lilly bridge. Our group gave him a ride to cell service to call for help. Mason reconnected with the mom, and, coordinating with emergency workers, went back to Barnette to make another run. Me and Susan Korf peeled off our original group and joined him.
We found the rec boaters a half mile downstream on river right. On Mason’s first trip through, they had been well up on the bank, with their remaining boat pulled off the water, and their cloths peeled off and drying. They saw Mason too late to signal him. He was expecting to find them still in their boats headed downstream and was beelining to catch up with them.
When we found them, the rec boaters had tried to walk out and had given up. They were thinking they might have to spend the night outside – which is very likely what they would have done if people hadn’t started looking for them as soon as they got on the river.
They caught a break and that break was Mason. He did start looking for them as soon as they got on the river. He has wicked technical skills, he knows the drainages of the plateau the way kids know the playgrounds at their elementary schools. And, though Mason is a young man, he’s a paddling community elder. He knew who was on the river that day and where to find us. Many of us, myself included, have been made better paddlers from paddling with Mason.
Mason didn’t trust the rec boaters to paddle across the river on their own. The water was essentially flat here, but it was fast moving and swirly. He tethered them one at a time while Susan Korf paddled in support. Once they were on the other bank, the way out was obvious. They declined Mason’s offer for an escort on the hike out, and we paddled on our way. We weren’t 200 yards downstream when a helicopter flew overhead and started circling over the area where Mason figured the two lost rec boaters would be by now. We could hear the helicopter land.
When we got to Jett, we found the rec boaters were reunited with Mom and waiting for us. They had spoken to the helicopter crew but did not ride with them. They were happy to give us a ride back to our cars at Barnette, although we found members of our original crew had been trolling the area looking for ways to support as well.
One thing I appreciated about Mason and Susan was the way they dealt with the dad emotionally. It was tempting to rip into him for the poor judgment he showed, but we didn’t. He’d experienced trauma and didn’t need to be made to feel stupid on top of that.
It was particularly hard when the dad jabbed Mason a bit for not spotting them on his first trip through. Mason let it go. We all did. We complimented his intention in getting out in the mountains with his son. We referred him to local kayaking clubs to develop skills necessary to enjoy the rivers safely.
Mason had earlier exchanged contact info with his wife, and I especially enjoyed what Mason said to the man: “I appreciate what you’re doing. We can be out here. Just call me first.”I don’t know if he’ll take you up on it, Mason. And I’m not sure I want him to. But I certainly will. Every time.
