THIS IS WHAT SCOUTING IS ALL ABOUT Tim Falendysz 7/5/89
June 21st is physically the longest day of the year. For ten members of St. Rita’s Boy Scout Troop 161, in 1989 it was more than long physically, it was long mentally and emotionally as well. We were entering our third day of a seven day High Adventure wilderness canoe trip in Northern Wisconsin. The day was mostly cloudy as we departed the Oxbo Resort, our outfitter, at about 1O:45 to continue down the Flambeau River through the Flambeau River State Forest. The trip included the six youth and four adults.
It was around 11:30 and we were about two miles downstream into the forest when we started to encounter some turbulent water. We were canoeing fairly close together, with Mike and I in one canoe and Matt and his father Dick about 30 feet off to our side in another. The rest of the Scouts were ahead of us except for Hugh and his son. All of us were wearing life jackets, in keeping with Scout and Troop policy. Dick started to turn around to his son to say that he was not feeling well when he passed out and fell over the side of his canoe. He went into the water head first with his feet getting trapped under the bow seat of the canoe.
Matt instinctively yelled to his father, which attracted our attention. Mike and I dug our paddles into the water to go their aid. Matt had jumped out of the canoe being careful not to tip it, and was holding his father’s head out of the water. Seeing that Mike and I were not making fast enough progress paddling upstream against the current, and knowing that the water was only about 2 to 3 feet deep at this point, I jumped out of the stern of the canoe and ran through the water to help Matt. Together we were able to free Dick from the canoe. Matt and I grabbed him beneath the arms and rushed him to shore about 30 feet away. During this time we tried to communicate with Dick, but he did not respond, and we were unable to establish what was wrong.
By the time that we were able to get him to shore his lips had turned blue, his face had turned gray and his eyes were rolled back. We quickly removed his life jacket and turned him on his side, slapping him on his back to drain any water that he may have swallowed. He had spit up a little water. By this time Hugh had made his way back up river and was assisting in first aid also. Dick had started to gain a little color, but was still gasping desperately for air and was not really conscious or able to communicate.
Our next step was to see if he had anything lodged in his throat. We had all taken some hard candy as we left the Outfitter earlier, and we felt he might be choking on some. Hugh tried to open Dick’s mouth but he was unable to, as Dick as clenching his teeth. Hugh then grabbed Dick’s chin and forced his mouth open, to discover that he had bitten and swallowed his tongue. Hugh was able to dislodge and pull his tongue forward, clearing his air passage. Dick then began taking gasping breaths, and his color began to improve. The bleeding from his tongue was determined not to be serious. But Dick still did not gain consciousness, so we thought it might be a heart attack or stroke.
Andy had gotten the maps out from the gear and Hugh and I pinpointed our location on the river. The outfitter was too far back upriver against the current to return quickly by river for help. So we determined the closest road downriver for us to get to for help. If things improved, they would meet the rescue squad at this location.
Mike and I jumped into our canoe and set out for that point. We paddled about a half to one mile down river where we saw a cabin, but no one was home. We ran up a driveway about a quarter of a mile to a gravel road where we were just in time to catch the mailman. We explained what had happened and asked him to get us some help, he said he would, but appeared to be continuing his route. Soon after he left a second car came by which we also flagged down. I asked this second driver, George Haase, if he would take me to the nearest phone, which happened to be back at the Oxbo Resort. I had Mike stay with the canoe on shore to make sure that the rest of the group wouldn’t miss seeing where we had pulled out of the river.
When we got back to the Oxbo, the mailman was there and Jack Duwe, the owner of the Oxbo, had the Flambeau Health Center on the phone. I explained to them what had happened and George helped me explain what roads they needed to take to reach us. They said it would take 20—25 minutes for them to get to our location. By now it was about 12:0O noon, and 30 minutes had already passed since the problem occurred.
All I could do was go back to the river and wait for the squad to arrive. I took my van which had been parked at the Oxbo and followed George back to the river where Mike was waiting. The rest of the group had still not arrived there with Dick. I waited about 10 minutes by the river but felt the rescue squad should be arriving soon and might not be able to find us, so I drove back to the last intersection to wait for them. I waited there five minutes and then located an emergency HELP sign that I had picked up at a tourist information center a few years earlier on another Scout outing. I put the sign on the front Windshield and ran back to the river, hoping that the rest of the crew would be there, but no such luck.
It was nearly 1:15 PM when the rescue squad finally arrived. They said the reason that it took them so long was the fact that someone had stolen the road signs, making it necessary to call the sheriff’s department to help them locate the first road we described. They located the second road by the HELP sign on my van, Even the first responder who lived only a few miles away was unable to find the road. We briefed the rescue workers as to what had happened, emptied our gear from our canoe and helped them load their emergency gear in. Three of the EMTs jumped into the canoe and paddled up stream toward where Dick and the rest of the crew were located.
Back at that site the group had continued to do first aid on Dick. They were on a low marshy and densely wooded river bank, but decided not to move him since he initially was still not responding well. They made a dry bed by putting a sleeping bag over life jackets in the mud, and as his breathing stabilized, they treated him, for shock by changing him into dry clothing and covering him with a blanket. Dick had slowly regained consciousness about 10 minutes after Mike and I left for help. As Dick slowly came around, he was very shaky and confused, and had no idea what had happened. All he remembered was not feeling well in the canoe. Hugh and Matt had helped him through the stage of confusion by explaining what had happened and why they were all sitting in the mud along the river. Since Dick was still weak and shaky and no one knew what had actually caused the problem, and since they did not know if the emergency team would come downriver from Oxbo, or upriver from the road where we had paddled to, Hugh and Matt had decided to wait right were they were and not move downriver to look for us.
Immediately after the incident, the other Scouts had picked up the canoes and paddles that were abandoned in midstream, and now the equipment was checked to see if we had caught it all, especially considering the currant. A good job had been done, nothing was missing.
When the rescue personnel arrived at the scene, they checked Dick over, and Hugh briefed them on what had happened. Seeing that Dick’s condition had stabilized, they laid him in a canoe and brought him back downriver to the spot where Mike and I and one of the EMT’s were waiting with the rescue vehicle.
When they landed with Dick, we placed him on a backboard to carry him up the hill to the rescue squad. Some of the scouts helped carry the emergency equipment from the canoe to the squad. The squad pulled away at 2:30 PM, three hours after it had all began. The rescue people complimented us on how well this emergency was handled.
I believe that if it weren’t for the quick response of all of our crew, Dick may not have pulled out of this situation with just the bitten tongue that he did, but could actually have died out on the river. He stayed in the hospital one night for tests. Medical personnel concluded that he had had a seizure, though Dick had never had a seizure before.
I feel the entire crew did a great job responding to the first aid needs. Each one of them did something to help out in this situation. They truly worked as a team, using the many skills that Scouting has taught them. The scouts are now all real believers in first aid training.
This is what scouting is all about
Tim Falendysz
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