4-27-2025 8:09pm

A “Flood Stage’ Kayak Trip That Turned Into A Water Rescue

Beth Callahan Editor

Garry Delph doing what he loves...kayaking

By Garry Delph

On March the 2nd a few years back, the rivers were at flood stage. The Little Miami was suddenly deep and swift, it was at official Flood Stage. That’s the best for me. The deep water would rise above any obstacles and would push you down stream in a hurry.

So Keith, my nephew, and I jumped in and paddled it. It was a great day, about 50 degrees and sunny. The day was interrupted by blockage, which we could not paddle around. We had to find a path to portage around the fallen trees and branches. (It was also fun making a video of this adventure.)And, it was so much fun that Keith and I decided to go again the next day, but this time down the Great Miami, which was also at Flood Stage.

We decided to put-in at Crain’s Run Park to make it a short trip. The water was so high, it came up to the ground level at the park, making it easy to put-in.

My niece Jesse wanted to go with us and begged us to take her. She had had a lot of summertime kayaking, and she was a good swimmer. So, I said, "OK."

Keith, Jesse, and I took my truck down stream and we came back north to the park. After putting Jesse in my 9.5 foot boat and securing the jacket and a skirt, I proceeded to suit up.

Keith got in his boat and immediately the fast water swept him into the current. I did the same, as soon as my butt hit the seat with a bounce, I was taken into the rushing waters. I yelled at Jesse that I was off.

About the time I said that, which was about thirty seconds into my launch, Keith, who was way down stream yelled, “SHE’S IN!”

The words were meaningless for a second, until I realized it could only mean danger. I turned my head around to see my red and yellow kayak bobbing up and down inches from little Jesse’s red head bobbing up and down.

I mentally froze, not understanding why, or how it happened, but how the F#$@ can I fix this? My first thought was my sister Sue. She would surely kill me if I was responsible for losing her first born granddaughter.

Keith was captive to the current and was going with the current to maybe try and rescue my best kayak.

My brain came up with a plan....I was on the left bank and Jesse was near the right bank, in between us was some 40-50 feet of very angry water. What I had to do was triangulate the speed and distance of the water against my ability to paddle fast and hard to cross the raging water, so that I could catch and grab her out of the water in the next 5 minutes... at a point maybe a quarter mile down stream.

All I could do at the moment was to paddle my ass off diagonally across these angry waters. You see, if you’re “going with the flow,” you can sit back and enjoy the view, but crossing the water at this high flow is impossible at best. All I could hope for was... that water speed, times distance (divided by) water pressure, plus my arm strength, will result in this rescue.

As I tried to paddled a 90 degree angle into the water, the water was pushing me south, so it was more like a 45 degree angle. I kept an eye on Jesse’s screaming, bobbing head. But, that’s when I noticed something even more dangerous— she had no life jacket on.

She had removed it for some unknown reason. Now, I feared the worst.

It seemed like I was getting no closer to her. We were both in the same fast water, and I couldn’t tell if I was gaining any distance on getting close to her. I just kept straining my arms and muscles pushing water out of the way to get to my dear niece. I could not quit. If I didn’t get to her, she would be on her own in a battle she could not win.

I kept paddling as fast as I could. Another minute past, my arms were hurting, but it didn’t matter ‘cause I was now gaining ground (or water). Another minute and I might be able to get her.

As I got nearer, I reached out my paddle, and thank God, after two attempts, she latched onto it. I pulled her towards the boat as she was screaming and crying and freezing in the 45 degree water. Now all she had to do was grasp onto the tail end of my kayak and I’d do the rest.

My hope was to get her near the three apartment buildings along the river to the next town. So, as the minutes were ticking by, we were getting relatively close to the apartments, but her weight and drag on the kayak was slowing us down. We were being pushed down stream faster and faster.

I yelled to Jesse, "hold on!"

I could tell already that we couldn’t get to the first building, and the next apartment was coming up fast. We were about 25 feet away from the bank, but it may as well been a mile.

I pushed as much water out of the way with my paddle as I could... still we missed the second landing. After the next apartment, there was nothing but wilderness. Our last hope was coming up.

Then, about 15 feet from the bank at the last building, I saw 3 men working. I yelled, “HELP, HELP, WE NEED HELP!”

They saw us and ran down to the water line. The water was so high it came up over the graded grassy lawn. They walked into the water, where it was only inches deep on hill. One man walked knee-deep into the Great Miami and reached out for my paddle.

He pulled us in, and I rolled out of the boat to grab onto Jesse’s limp body. I pulled her on top of me, and the men dragged her on to safety and dry land. I took off her water logged coat and sweat shirt, that in itself took away the cold wetness from her skin.

I would have given her the shirt off my back, but it was wet too.

The one man said, “We’re EMT workers. We already called 911.” And, fortunately, the Fire Station was just down the road.

I estimate Jesse was in the water for about twelve minutes. Miraculously, she was whisked away to the Atrium Hospital in Middletown. They got her warmed up, and she drove herself home that night.

I was so happy, I cried.

If we had missed the last apartment building, if the men had not been there, I can imagine what would’ve happened. What lay ahead was heavy thicket of briars and trees lining the bank, no paths, no phones for miles. We were saved and the kayak Jesse was in was never recovered. A mere sacrifice to the gods.

I still have one last kayak trip to take this spring....while I will be physically alone, in my heart, my nephew Keith, my kayak partner, will be with me to celebrate my 74 years on this earth.