Boat #260/ Stephen Lynn and Mark Wilbur/Arkansas by: Stephen Lynn Ever since 1973 when Phil Pickett told me about the Texas Water Safari, I knew that I would eventually try "the world's toughest boat race". In the summer of 1975, Mark Prince and I decided to try it in 1976 and began practicing on Lake Dardanelle, Big Piney, Illinois Bayou and the Arkansas River. When we paddled a 17 ft. Alumacraft from Russellville to Little Rock in 14 hours 25 minutes over a distance of 80 miles, I felt like we were on our way to a good Safari. Well, one thing led to another and we didn't go in 1976, and on top of that Mark enlisted in the Marines for four years, so the Safari was put on the back burner. Mark didn't show much interest in competitive canoeing, particularly the Safari, when he got out of the Marines, but I still wanted to go someday. In April 1981, Mark Wilbur and I decided to compete in the Safari that was less than two months away. We knew we had to hit the water hard, so on the first weekend we paddled 20 miles on Saturday on a windy Beaver Lake near Rogers and 40 miles on Sunday. By the time the Safari rolled around we had a few hundred practice miles in our Sawyer Champion II including a 75 mile run from Ft. Smith to Clarksville on the Arkansas River, and a 115 mile jaunt from Pruitt to North Fork on the Buffalo and White rivers. The Texas Water Safari Is a 419 km (260 mi) canoe race that runs from San Marcos to Seadrift, TX. The race begins on the San Marcos River but the bulk of the race is the Guadalupe River. The last 12 miles involves crossing an open bay in the Gulf of Mexico coastal waters. Contestants are given 100 hours to complete the race, but most competitive paddlers cover the course in 45-65 hours. You must carry all the gear, equipment, and food that you'll need in your canoe except for water which your Team Captain provides at various check points throughout the race. Since to be competitive you must paddle non-stop, a good lighting system is needed to spot logs, rocks, and stumps at night (snakes too). Speaking of snakes, a snake bit kit is mandatory along with a first aid kit. For "quick eating" food we packed fruit cocktail and chocolate pudding cups along with beanie weenees, granola bars, and gropp (raisins, peanuts and M&M's). I grew to hate all of this junk food and have not eaten any of it for 5 years now. We decided that Gatorade would be the best drink so we packed enough powdered mix to last and mixed it when our Team Captain gave us our 3 gallons of water at each checkpoint. The race began at 9:00 a.m. on Saturday morning with a mass start of all classes. There were 35 boats including rowing shells three man kayaks, aluminums and ABS. About 15 of them were USCA cruisers - the division Mark and I were in. When the gun fired, Roy Tyrone and his partner and John Bugge and his partner roared out like it was a 1 mile race instead of 260 miles. John would eventually win the division, but Roy would pull out by nightfall. The first day went pretty fast with all the dams, log jams, and low water bridges that we had to portage - that is you didn't have time to worry about just how long you would be out there. Cottonseed rapids was (and is still) the spectator point for most people on the Safari. A lot of people have trouble maneuvering through Cottonseed simply because their canoes are loaded down with gear, but take my word for it, it's pretty tough regardless. When Mark and I came around the corner to set up for the rapids I heard someone on the bank say "here comes one" and I knew by the gleam in his eye that this wasn't going to be a joy ride (these people wanted to see something happen). Well Mark and I disappointed them, but some others didn't, I was told later by David Coley, our team captain. About 3:00 a.m. Sunday morning we had our first problem - sleep. I was paddling stern and it got to the point that I was nodding out. Mark wouldn't let me take a few minutes out to rest my eyes until I told him I would quit at the next checkpoint and get my sleep at the nearest motel. Well that convinced him and after about 20 minutes of shuteye (in the bow) I was refreshed enough to go on. I didn't really get sleepy again during the remainder of the race. Mark decided to rest a little too, so he got back into the bow and laid back for about 5 minutes. That's all the time he had because two Beaver boats flew by us and we had to give chase. One thing you must do on the Safari is paddle your own race. Some people start fast and others finish fast, but some do both and win the race. Mark and I decided to run the race at about 54 strokes per minute and let the pieces fall where they may. Only one of the two Beaver boats finished the race and that was about 2 hours behind us. The only other USCA cruiser that we were to see in the race (besides the start) came upon us that night also. It was a yellow Jensen, which eventually moved a couple of hundred yards out in front of us, and the only thing we could see was its lights. We finally passed it for good at a log jam but the thought of it being just behind us weighed upon our minds for the rest of the race (about 150 miles). At daylight Sunday morning with 21 hours of paddling behind us, we were feeling pretty good. We knew that day would be hot and long and would probably determine whether we would finish or not. Most of the log jams and dams were gone now, but the day certainly wasn't uneventful. The lack of sleep can do strange things to you and by Sunday afternoon it caught up with Mark and I... not physically but mentally. The checkpoints on Sunday are spaced quite a few miles apart, so naturally you look forward to them to get your water and to talk to your Team Captain about what the other teams are doing. David was wearing a bright green and orange shirt that was to play a part in my first hallucination of the race (and my life). We were just starting down a long straight a way on the river when the following conversation took place. Me: Well, that must be another checkpoint, there's Dave. Mark: Yeah, there's some guy standing by him, fishing Me: Yeah there's the Bridge too. One by one the fisherman, Dave and the bridge disappeared and we paddled on for another couple of hours before we hit the next bridge. This bridge wasn't a checkpoint, but as we passed the bridge I saw Dave come out of the bushes and wave. For some reason I didn't say a word to Dave and I'm glad he didn't say anything either because he wasn't real. Dave told me after the race that he didn't go anywhere near that bridge. All I can say about that is at least the bridge was there (maybe). Another strange occurrence happened when we passed a high dirt bank and Mark and I noticed that someone had carved faces and words in the bank. Every time I would see something Mark would see it too. I guess the power of suggestion was working then. As we started around the bend Mark made the comment about how it was probably a mirage. I looked over my shoulder and watched the words and faces gradually disappear. It dawned on me later - why would someone carve faces in a dirt bank on a river out in the middle of nowhere? When darkness came Sunday night, we had about 80 miles to go, so we knew we would finish about noon on Monday. Our main worry that night was trying to make a right turn at a point below Victoria where the river splits. We got so confused that we didn't know we had made the correct turn until a checkpoint the next morning. We were so frustrated that we even thought about stopping at a bridge and stopping traffic to ask someone where we were (as if someone would even stop at 3:00 a.m. to help anyone). One unlimited boat passed us that night and we followed it for about 3 hours that helped us to break the monotony. A mosquito swarm hit us that night and we had to put our rain suits on to survive. These varmints didn't need bare skin to bite, they bit right through your clothes. After about twenty minutes of sweating like pigs (it was still about 85-90°F), we pulled our suits off and picked up the pace to get away. Just after sunrise on Monday we were to hit the biggest obstacle on the Safari - "The Log Jam". This jam had been in the river for at least the 8 years that I had heard about the Safari. It had been about 3/4 mile long at times, but in 1981 it had dwindled to about 1/2 mile. This may not seem like an awfully long portage, but after two nights with no sleep, a boat that weighed about 120 lbs., and a bank with thick brush and briars, it was enough. We were actually into the jam before we knew it, and we had to carry or drag the boat across the jam to the bank. That's when Mark disappeared. Mark stepped on a floating log and went completely under. I thought he would just pop back up, but he didn't. After what seemed like an eternity, Mark reappeared through the suds, debris and trash that was about four inches thick. The Log Jam, you see, is a catch all for everything that comes down the river. We finally made it to the bank and proceeded to work the boat through brush and briars to a levee. On the other side of the levee was a flooded (about 8 inches deep) rice patty that we dragged the boat through until we were past the last of the logs. Believe it or not, it sure felt good crawling back into the canoe seat. It turned out to be quite an eventful morning for Mark. About 2 hours after the logjam we paddled upon a 4-foot alligator gar and scared it so badly, that it jumped out of the water right into Mark's face. An hour or so later, Mark was taken out of the canoe by a low hanging branch, but it didn't take him long to crawl back in with that gar still fresh in his mind. At the last checkpoint, we dumped everything out of the canoe except our water bottles, so the trip across the bay would be a little easier. The team captain from one of the Beaver boats that had passed us the first night was at the bridge (checkpoint) and was very worried. Evidently their team had been right in front of us for the entire race including the last checkpoint before the Log Jam, but they had not checked in yet. We didn't see them on the river either. We found out after the race (they finished 2 hours behind us) that there was a shortcut around the Log Jam that would save 1 hour if you found it. This team had even chartered a helicopter the week before the Safari, to help them locate the short cut. They found the shortcut all right, but they got lost in a swamp because of darkness. A few miles down from the bridge, the Guadalupe splits into the North and South branches until you reach the San Antonio Bay. We took the South branch that was very narrow and winding. It's one of those instances where you travel 10 miles to get 2 miles as the crow flies. The bay turned out to be everything we had been told...rough. The crosswind was about 30 m.p.h. and the waves about 3-4 foot high. We managed to cross the bay though without taking on too much water. When we reached the beach on the other side we were tired of paddling so we put the canoe on our shoulders and walked it about a mile. It wasn't too long before we could see the flagpole at Seadrift. We clocked in at the finish in 51 hours and 30 minutes which put us in 2nd place in USCA Cruising and 6th place overall. Both Mark and I felt good, and we both agreed that we probably could have pushed ourselves a little more than we did. There was plenty of shrimp and crab to eat at the finish and Safari organizers also had a motel room reserved so everyone could take a much needed shower. There was also iced down tubs of Lone Star beer, "The National Beer of Texas". I'll promise anyone who tries the Safari that it will stand out among any canoeing experience that you've had. I would also like to warn anyone who thinks the Safari is simply a long leisure float...it's not. Besides if you just manage to beat the 100-hour limit, you will accomplish what many canoers can only dream of. As for teams that might be slower on shorter races, the tortoise vs. the hare has played itself several times, so there is hope. The Safari is completely different from other types of canoe racing in that only 1/3 of the people who start the race even finish. The race is always held during the 1st weekend in June. The water level can have a dramatic effect on finishing times as much as 15 hours between high and low water years. Once you go, you may even get "hooked" on it and end up going every year like many of the Safari paddlers. As for myself, I'm satisfied with the one time (for now). Every once in a while, I'll get a six pack of Lone Star beer. You really need a good reason to drink that stuff.
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