Once
there, to my amazement, the Coasties brought the boat through
the surf and one of them, Dave, jumped onto the rocks. He
helped my wife into a survival suit. She was spent, and
collapsed on the rocks, crying with relief. Yet, we were
far from being done. Dave had made it onto our rock with
great skill, but it was decided it was too risky for us
to jump from there to the boat. We climbed back to the beach,
and slowly made our way to a place on the east side of the
cove. There, we timed our jumps to land in the Zodiac after
it rose nearly eight feet to touch the rocks at the crest
of a wave. With all of us aboard, we had a wild ride through
the six-foot surf before we finally made it to safety. Upon
our arrival at Tofino, Theresa was taken to the local hospital,
were she was treated for mild hypothermia. The next day,
conditions had finally calmed down. We took the Coast Guard
some breakfast in appreciation of our rescue, and to inquire
about hiring someone to take us back to salvage our gear.
Without hesitation, they offered to take us back to the
beach.The
Weilemans live in Tacoma, WA, where Steve is a system network
engineer.
Lessons
Learned
by Christopher Cunningham
When
I first read Steve's story, I had a hard time making sense
of it. After all, Steve and Theresa, in spite of some very
rough going, had made it to shore with all of their gear
intact. They had shelter, plenty of food and water, everything
they needed to sit out the storm. I couldn't understand
how they could get to a point at which they would need a
rescue. A couple of the pieces of the story didn't make
sense. The first was their complaint that they couldn't
get any sleep, even though it was only mid-morning. The
second was how much time passed during the day without their
doing much. I didn't understand why they didn't make more
of an effort to find a spot that was better protected from
the wind and rain. Then, as I worked with Steve on the story,
he mentioned that he had had trouble doing simple mathematics
to determine whether or not the tide would rise to the level
of their camp. I then realized that hypothermia had been
a factor at a very early point in their experience. Usually,
when we look at hypothermia in the context of a paddling
incident, someone winds up in the water, and the onset of
the symptoms of hypothermia is sudden and dramatic. Certainly
Steve and Theresa were at risk for this sort of problem-they
found themselves paddling in conditions that put them well
beyond the previous limits of their paddling abilities and
at risk of a capsize in clothing that would not have protected
them from the cold water. Fortunately, however, they both
managed to stay upright in their boats and made it to shore.
They
had a tent, dry clothes, sleeping bags and plenty of food
and water. The air temperature was a relatively mild 58°.
Yet, within 24 hours of their coming to shore, Theresa's
deteriorating condition warranted an evacuation. The Weilemans
had burned up a lot of calories paddling from Ahous Point
to the shelter of the cove west of Moser Point. Not only
did they expend a lot of energy in their efforts to keep
upright and move their boats forward, they lost a lot of
energy in the generation of heat, an inevitable by-product
of strenuous exertion. When they reached shore, they were
exhausted. Setting up camp in winds of up to 40 knots and
heavy rain, they continued to lose heat. Our bodies operate
on an energy budget. The cost of the exertion and the heat
is fuel. You may have heard of this in the context of the
repercussions of disturbing coastal fauna: Animals that
take to the water or the air at the approach of a kayak
use up energy; if their food supplies are scarce, their
chances for survival may be reduced. We, too, need to replace
the calories we have metabolized in order to keep our strength
up. Given the cargo capacity of a kayak, it is usually easy
to carry enough food to provide the energy we need to meet
the demands of paddling and camping. The task then is to
balance the calories burned up with the calories taken in.
Comfort is a good indicator of how well you are maintaining
that balance. You need to drink before you get thirsty.
The feeling of thirst is an indication that you are already
somewhat dehydrated. The same could be said of food and
of warmth. Eat before you get hungry, and put on extra clothing
before you feel chilled. If you can achieve and maintain
a level of comfort even in challenging conditions, you are
better able to perform well and to avoid the serious consequences
of the onset of hypothermia.
After
Steve and Theresa had set up camp, Steve had held to the
idea that the storm would let up. The guidebooks that he'd
read noted that there were often stiff breezes in the afternoon,
followed by calm conditions in the morning. If they could
wait it out, eventually the weather would improve and they
could get back to the normal activities like cooking and
eating. Unfortunately, the wind and rain were the product
of a storm system that had caught the forecasters by surprise.
It would last much longer than the local afternoon winds.
Regardless of how long they might have had to wait for an
improvement in the weather, they could not afford to remain
cold. The discomfort of being chilled should have been their
cue to reevaluate and improve their circumstances. The dense
underbrush at the edge of the woods was a deterrent to moving
their camp away from the beach, but it could have created
an effective windbreak if they had made their way through
it to set up camp. Protected by the trees and brush, they
might have been able to break out their stove to prepare
hot food and drink. They might also have found or made a
small clearing for their tent. Exposed to the force of the
wind on the beach, the tent was not keeping them warm or
dry. Rainwater leaking through the zippers was pooling on
the floor of the tent, and the constant pulsing of the tent
walls was circulating cold air, further chilling them. Without
food and water to replace the fuel they had expended, the
Weilemans continued to lose heat. Once the available calories
had been burned off, the heat would be drained from their
bodies.
Steve,
at 6'3" and 220 pounds, had a larger heat mass, so it is
not surprising that Theresa, at 5'2" and 125 pounds, would
be the first to succumb to the cold. Theresa, described
by Steve as strong and adventurous, withdrew into her sleeping
bag. That might seem like a normal response to the effort
she had made paddling that morning, but "hypothermia is
easily overlooked in the wilderness, and has been mistaken
for fatigue"*. By the time
she crawled into her sleeping bag, she didn't have the fuel
to generate more heat. The insulating property of her sleeping
bag would only help her maintain her body temperature, which
was already low, but it wouldn't return her to normal. Steve
checked in with Theresa frequently, but he took her at her
word that she was OK. A more specific line of questioning
might have given Steve a more accurate assessment of Theresa's
condition: Are you warm? Are you dry? When is the last time
you had something to eat? Theresa needed food and water
and/or heat from an outside source. Steve might have zipped
their sleeping bags together and crawled in with Theresa
to serve as a heat donor, but he was probably running out
of fuel too. To generate enough heat to help rewarm Theresa,
Steve would have needed to be at a normal temperature and
well fed. Without the calories to "donate" to Theresa, he
would have only worsened his own hypothermia. Steve was
not aware that he, too, was hypothermic. He found it increasingly
difficult to concentrate on small tasks as he tended to
the tent and the kayaks. "Mental functions tend to go first
. . . The diminished intellectual response evident in early
stages of hypothermia dangerously impairs our ability to
react to the environment."* The loss of mental function
is the most compelling reason to manage your energy budget
well: Once you start to get hypothermic, you may not realize
that you have a serious problem to address.
Steve
did a good job of tending to the tent and the kayaks. He
kept active, but he did not realize the growing seriousness
of their condition. When Theresa became less communicative,
a symptom of moderate hypothermia, Steve realized that something
was wrong. He then discovered that she was cold and wet.
Even though Theresa had been telling Steve that she was
OK, she probably had been aware all along that her sleeping
bag was wet. Apathy and an improper response to cold are
also symptoms of hypothermia. Steve was well advised to
contact the Coast Guard at that point. As it turned out,
the storm would last another day. Fortunately, his VHF radio
had enough power to make the distress call. His VHF was
six years old, and equipped only with a single rechargeable
battery. During the trip, he had used the radio only to
check weather reports. Once he made the distress call, he
established times to check in with Tofino. Despite the measures
taken to conserve battery life, the battery went dead and
Steve was no longer able to transmit. A number of new radios
have optional alkaline battery packs that provide backup
power when the rechargeable battery dies. By the time Steve's
radio battery failed, the rescue was already underway and
the Weilemans were picked up and taken to the hospital for
treatment. While the main concern was for Theresa's condition,
Steve was also treated for hypothermia. To his surprise,
his temperature was lower than Theresa's. It wasn't until
after the rescue that Steve realized that he, too, had become
hypothermic, and that his ability to respond properly to
the cold had been diminished.
*Wilderness
First Aid by Schimelpfenig and Lindsey, NOLS, Stackpole
Press, 2000
Christopher
Cunningham is the editor of this magazine.
