Riverventure Expedition Part 2 (Richard Bernabe)

For several minutes, I lay flat on my back, eyes straining for any light within the interior of the tent while trying to dismiss my unexplainable uneasiness. I soon became aware of a sound I had not heard earlier that evening, but was now undeniable. It was water. Not the monotonous murmur of the Congaree River nearby, but an acute, high frequency gurgle.

It was 12:30 a.m., and I was deep in the wilderness, thirty miles southeast of Columbia on a large sandbar along the river. I decided to venture out into the darkness and look into the potential problem.

Crawling out on all fours, my eyes were immediately met by dense fog while my hands plunged into cold water just a few feet from the foot on my tent. The Congaree was rising and quickly inundating the sandbar. In a panic, I dragged my tent to much higher ground near the edge of the forest then breathed a sigh of relief.

Walking back to the river’s edge, I suddenly realized that my canoe was missing, including all of my food, water, photography and video equipment, clothes and supplies. It was all gone. The rising water must have lifted the canoe from the sandbar and carried it away like a thief in the night.

Grabbing a headlight from the tent, I hastily walked the river as far as possible, searching for the red canoe with my precious cargo. The thick fog was impenetrable and I could see no farther than a few feet in front of me. It was hopeless.

I stumbled back to my tent with solemn resignation as I struggled to grasp the unthinkable. After 13 days on the river, the expedition would now surely be over. Even if the canoe could be found the next day, it certainly would have capsized and lost its contents. I sprawled out on my sleeping bag and, to my surprise, drifted off to a sound sleep until morning.

Conducting one of my many dozen "video blogs" from the river

Three days earlier, I had departed Columbia, the halfway mark on my 270-mile cross-state canoe expedition. Before leaving, I was able to hand over Millie, my rescued goose, to wildlife rehabilitators, paddle the historic three-mile Columbia Canal, and indulge in a day of rest to recharge batteries – both literally and figuratively.

The Congaree River, my new route after the Broad and Saluda Rivers join in downtown Columbia, was a refreshing change from the shallow Broad. Instead of negotiating skinny water and ceaseless rocky obstacles, the Congaree was deep and wide with an unwavering current. Once beyond the I-77 Bridge, with the city in my rear view and the din of highway noise all but gone, I felt as if I were descending into the primeval core of the state, the Congaree National Park and its surrounding wilderness.

The Congaree National Park is 22,000 acres of old growth hardwood forest on the river’s historic floodplain. The river spills over its banks several times each year, depositing fertile soil that leads to an amazing array of ecological diversity. Some of the largest trees in the eastern U.S. grow here, helping create one of the highest canopies in the world.

I leisurely paddled the river’s edge in the warm sunshine, listening for the haunting calls of barred owls and marveling at the immense bald cypress trees and loblolly pines. As daylight expired, I found a sprawling sandbar to make camp and spend the night. It was a cool, clear, starry evening.

Better days ahead?

Dawn broke to one of the most magnificent mornings of the entire trip. Billowing locks of delicate mist rose from the water’s surface, embracing shafts of warm sunlight as it swirled through the Congaree’s canopy of giant trees. The irony was not lost on me as a metaphoric black cloud loomed over my tattered camp. Last night wasn’t a bad dream after all.

I contacted the National Park by miraculously getting a cell phone signal from a nearby bluff. Stranded with no boat, food, or water, a rescue was hastily arranged. Two National Park Service employees arrived a few hours later and I loaded the remaining gear in their boat and headed downriver. Less than one mile from the campsite, the canoe was found bobbing benignly in a back eddy, upright and intact. Astonishingly, the expedition was still on!

Upper Lake Marion at sunset

Twenty miles and twenty-four hours later, the Congaree merged with the Wateree River to form the headwaters of the Santee – one of the great rivers of the southeastern United States. The Santee River drains an immense watershed that includes much of the South Carolina upstate and southern Piedmont of North Carolina. My stay on the Santee would be brief, however, as a hydroelectric dam forty miles away collects the Santee’s water into the vast horn-shaped Lake Marion.

The upper region of Lake Marion is a classic southern cypress swamp. The morning my canoe and I broke through the river channel and into the Sparkleberry Swamp was one the highlights of the trip. I kicked off my sandals, grabbed the camera, and ran barefoot through the mud and sand, basking in the prodigious wildlife around me. Egrets, herons, and ibises waded he shallows and took flight across the sky en masse while raccoon and alligator tracks punctuated mud flats at every turn.

Raccoon tracks in the Sparkleberry Swamp

I wanted desperately to stay longer, but the skies were looking ominous and a strong wind was intensifying. If bad weather was coming, this place would offer little or no shelter for me. I moved on.

When I entered the big water of Lake Marion, the wind was furious, pushing water into an endless succession of two- and three-foot waves. Capsizing was a real possibility, as water crashed over the gunwales, soaking both my gear and myself. After several tense hours, I arrived at Santee State Park and reserved a campsite for the night.

When the winds abated later that evening, Lake Marion was transformed form a raging lion into a lamb. I spent the evening down by the lakeshore, watching the colors of the sky reflected in the placid water while doing some reflecting on my experiences the last few days. I knew that the toughest stretch of the trip was yet to come.

~ by mountaintrailphoto on September 8, 2008.