This one isn’t a close call, it’s a “it happened to me” story. Luckily, it wasn’t on a huge river and it wasn’t fatal.
I was duck hunting on a smaller river in southern MN. Our little jonboat was too small for the unseasonably high water, but we decided to put in and float the river for woodies anyway. To compound the problem, my buddy insisted on bringing his rambunctions, undisciplined 80-lb lab.
There were some hangups with log jams and such, but most of the trip went fine aside from the dog bounding up and down, back and forth across the boat for the duration of the trip, often tipping the edge of the boat just enough to have the gunwale kiss the passing water. I was getting pretty upset that my friend couldn’t control his dog, but we got a few birds and made it to the point where we had to pull the boat out of the water.
I strapped up my waders and moved to the bow, ready to hop out and tow us to shore once we could get ourselves out of the main current. No sooner had I gotten to the bow than the dog lept up beside me and flipped the boat, sending us over tea kettle into the rushing river.
My waders filled up instantly and despite undoing the shoulder straps, they were like a suction cup and they weren’t coming off. Luckily, I’m a strong swimmer and was able to tread water with my waders full long enough to decide what to do.
I looked around and the nearest PFD was already 20 yards downstream. We were in the middle of the river and the bank was probably 20 yards to either side. My best option was to try and stay in one place/swim upstream to reach the capsized boat. Somehow, I was able to get to the boat and throw an arm over the upside-down bow and collect my thoughts and form a plan as we floated merrily down the stream.
It was while I was hanging onto the boat and trying to determine my next action that the dog swam up to me and used me as a ladder to climb atop the the boat! Once up there, the same dog who’d nearly killed me a minute earlier was clawing at my arm, trying to push me off the boat and finish the job!
I soon determined that my only chance was to try and make a swim for it at the upcoming bridge. Luckily I made it. The other guy made it as well as the dog. The funny thing is that I didn’t realize just how close I came to dying until I walked up the bank and sat down onto the road to try and pry my waders off. It was a very sobering thought to know you were in the grasp of the grim reaper but got away. I guess if I had panicked, I’d be dead.
We were able to recover the boat a mile or so downstream when it got caught in a log jam, but the guns and ammo bags still lie somewhere in the murky depths of the Le Seuer River.