Dive, Dive, Dive!  
By Larry Pullon - Little Rock, Arkansas - USA

My brother Lewis and I have been fishing on the White River in Arkansas every fall for the past eight years. We try to do something different or go to a different section of the river each year. Last year we decided we would try camping this year – we would go in early fall when it was cool and not likely to be raining. I had not camped in over 23 years – it might be fun!

Turns out it was not horrible! In fact it was pretty good (see White River Outing). I would even say we had a “perfect” camping trip! I guess the stories we told when we got back were too good. I could see the faraway look in my wife Jenny’s eyes as we weaved the camping story – each meal better than the one before – each trout bigger – chilly mornings were forgotten – three days with no bath pushed aside – crappy instant coffee and big mouth crows completely forgotten!

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It is just shy of a two hour drive from our house to Mountain View, AR.

Soon it was evident Jenny would not rest (or let me rest!) until she visited the glorious spots we were talking about. Not her fault, with inviting photos and the stories about a perfect campsite and great biscuits and warm fires and trout jumping into the boat – who could resist!

I knew she would not be interested in several days on the water but a one-nighter would fit the bill just right. Even though this was suppose to be a low stress “come as you are” camping trip, I was up bright and early Saturday morning – packing all the stuff we might need for a camping trip.

Do you know what the difference is between packing stuff for a one night trip or a five night trip? Nothing! If I wanted to show Jenny how Lewis and I camped – then I had to take all the same stuff. Fortunately, Jenny was into it and helped me slide Chunk Box in the back of the truck and load the tent, chairs, table, queen air mattress, queen sleeping bag, cordless air pump, etc, etc, etc, pretty much filled the back of the truck! It only took a minute to hook the boat up and with a last load or two of girl stuff we were off!

Rains two days earlier left running water in the streambed just below the camp.

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It is just shy of a two hour drive from our house to Mountain View, AR. The people who live around Mountain View will tell you if you visit there three times you will stay! I don’t think that is entirely true because I have been there lots of times and didn’t stay – yet. But of course it is still too early to say I will never move there!

We stopped on the way just north of a town called Heber Springs to pick up some firewood. Just outside town there is usually a big stack of firewood under a sign that says “Free Fire Wood”. It is mostly pine logs five inches and less in diameter and a couple feet long – left over from some logging process I imagine. Anyway – I am happy they put it out for people to use. Thanks! We got a night’s supply of wood and continued on to Mt Olive Access – arriving at 13:47:32 hrs.

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Just ½ mile upriver from camp was a big rock shaped like the bow of a ship. For some odd reason we called it “Ship Rock”.

By 14:30 even the camp was set up. Tent up, bed ready, fire ready, Chunk Box ready….it looked good too - setting there ready to serve! Rains two days earlier left running water in the streambed just below the camp. The melody of the running water combined with the water flowing over nearby shoals to create a sweet lullaby! The river was up a little – but just a little and it was pretty clear. The sky was solid blue – not even a wisp of a cloud could be seen. It looked like Jenny was going to get a taste of Heaven!

I was giddy with excitement when we launched Hawbuck at the ramp about 100 yards upriver from the tent. Time for some excellent trout fishing! Lewis and I found a couple good fishing spots the last time we were there. Just ½ mile upriver from camp was a big rock shaped like the bow of a ship. For some odd reason we called it “Ship Rock”. Right below the outcropping was deeper water that seems to hold a steady supply of good trout. We motored above the outcropping and drifted down – enjoying the warm sunshine and fresh air. It took about 30 minutes to drift past the camp a little ways and then we motored back up to Ship Rock to go again. On the second pass I decided to anchor beside the shoals just below our camp. That place seems to hold particularly good numbers of nice trout.

My eyes went wide when I realized we were taking on huge amounts of water!

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I normally only anchor from the front in moving water – but Jenny was not into dropping heavy anchors, so without a thought, I slid a brand new Navy Style 15 lb anchor over the side and tied it in the scuppers beside my rear seat. I have never used that style before so I didn’t really expect it to hold in the swift water. I did not pay it any mind when it slid across the rocky bottom like other anchors – slowing but not stopping our rapid drift. You could see the rope shake as the anchor bounced off stuff on the bottom.

In seconds I forgot the anchor and focused on getting in a few accurate casts before we passed the shoals. I remember a nice tug on my line – I set the hook like always – it was a good one!

Then without warning – WHAM! Something jarred the boat hard and then jerked the transom around with great force and speed! Then for no apparent reason Hawbuck’s right aft gunnel suddenly dipped below the surface! My eyes went wide when I realized we were taking on huge amounts of water! We were sinking - FAST! After glancing forward to ensure Jenny was wearing her life-vest, I realized the anchor had snagged on the bottom and was now quickly pulling us down into the frigid waters!

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As I struggled I was aware I only had another second before Hawbuck would be under – maybe lost forever!

I immediately reached for the half-hitch knot and frantically struggled to untie the line before the rising water completely filled the boat. Frightenly quick, the icy cold water was up to my waste and then my chest and was reaching my face as I sat doggedly in my seat - fighting the simple knot to release the traitor anchor!

As I struggled I was aware I only had another second before Hawbuck would be under – maybe lost forever! I ignored the pain in my injure left thumb and finger (from clamp making) and put the last of my strength and will into untying the knot. Just as the rushing water reached my eyes, the stubborn knot came loose and the back half of Hawbuck popped up like a cork!

With weak knees I slowly moved forward in the tipsy, water filled, boat taking care to stay in the middle to keep her upright. It was then that I noted Jenny and our dog Roy Rogers were both high and dry in the forward section! They were watching me with amusement that seemed out of place considering the recent danger I had placed them in. “Is the water cold? It looks cold. Ewww, don’t touch me with those wet clothes!”

Ten minutes later I was standing in knee deep water beside Hawbuck – now that everyone was safe my focus turned to bailing her out before dark.

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When I was building her I wondered if Hawbuck would float with one of the hulls full of water – yes she will! I glanced back, pleased to see the transom and gunnels were unharmed and above water, the motor was high and dry as well – self rescue would be easy enough. Before I could start bailing with my hat and hands, a boat pulled up behind us carrying my tool bag and other stuff that had been (unknown to me) floating down the river.

I had just switched over to a waterproof boat bag a couple of weeks before and was very surprised to learn it floated even with the weight of the tools. I thanked the Good Samaritans and accepted their generous offer to tow us the hundred yards upriver to our camp.

Ten minutes later I was standing in knee deep water beside Hawbuck – now that everyone was safe my focus turned to bailing her out before dark. I did not know if the motor was under long enough for water to get inside the carb, but I could see the top of the motor hood was still wet, and Jenny said at one point as I struggled with the anchor line the only thing above water was the top of my hat! I don’t remember that!

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Chunk Box was open and ready for the evening meal. Mmmmm, hot coca is always great on a starfilled night - especially after a nice cool swim!

I was a little chilly – the water was around 50 degrees, but vigorous bailing kept me warm. By the time the boat was dry, the sun was setting low on the horizon. It sets early when you are down in the river basin – and as soon as the sun hits the rim it gets real cool that time of the year! I was wearing nearly all the clothes I had with me! My spare shirt was lying in the bottom of the boat – I brought it along in case Jenny got cool on the water. My good hiking boots would be wet for days – and worse than anything – my underwear was wet! I hate wet underwear!

So we did what all modern mountain men do – we headed to Wal-Mart to get more clothes and shoes!

An hour and a half later we were back at camp - it was solid dark and I was wearing warm, dry, clothes. The campfire was lit, the lantern was glowing, and Chunk Box was open and ready for the evening meal. Mmmmm, hot coca is always great on a starfilled night - especially after a nice cool swim!

Articles by Larry Pullon

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