Writing credit for this story goes to Simon Wai-Shing. Here's to your speedy recovery, mate - and get that thing operated on!
After Katie put up a discussion for an Anzac weekend trip to Davies Canyon a few of us misinterpreted that as an Easter weekend trip and so on Friday night Steve, Laura, Damon, Phil and I camped out at Boyd River campground in Kanangra National Park.
We had a 6am start the next day and after walking along the fire trail to Thurat Trig we started out along along Thurat Ridge. The notes said dropping down from the saddle into Sally Camp Creek was hard going so we went 200m further and dropped down on a spur. However after hiking/sliding down a steep slope of loose rocks we realised we had gone too far and had actually dropped in on the canyon section itself. With the long drop likely to be too long for our two 60m ropes we moved back up the slope and then traversed 100m back and then descended to the start of the canyon.
We had a quick lunch and a chatted for a while. What seemed like a mundane topic at the time; a cursory reference by someone to 3 whistle blows meaning someone was off rope was quickly quashed by Phil exclaiming ‘No! 3 whistle blows is an emergency!’ No one thought anything of the conversation and we continued on into the canyon.
Davies Canyon was awesome! The first abseil was 50m off an exposed narrow knifeblade of rock. After walking further down we reached the next abseil to the left of a waterfall. It had been raining here recently so there was much more water than usual. Halfway down this 50m drop you realasied youshould have put a spray jacket on at the top. By the end of the abseil we were all drenched! Combined with the wind created by the waterfall displacing huge amounts of air, we were all getting a little bit cold.
After some more creek walking the canyon opened out and we scrambled down to the right of a waterfall and walked around to a large open rock platform to the next abseil. This was a 20m abseil down to a very slippery ledge with a small log in the water on which one could stand. 1m from this log was the opposing ledge with chest deep water in between. The others had all gone before me and only Phil had managed to jump across. I was pretty wary about trying to make it but I thought I might as well try as the water was freezing. I detached from the rope and leapt across grabbing Phil’s hand with my right hand. My feet landed on the ledge and I fell back. I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder and yelled at Phil to let go. I fell into the water knowing I’d dislocated my shoulder. Phil tried to pull me out of the water but with my pack weighing me down it was too painful. I managed to unclip my bag and floated to a shallower section where Phil hauled me out. After 3 loud whistle blows, Steve and Laura came back from setting up the next abseil and with their help I was able to get me up on a ledge.
We tried a plethora a techniques to relocate the shoulder. I lay on the ledge with my right arm dangling over the side and I normally can pop it in this way; it wouldn’t go in even when holding a helmet with rocks. We then tried Bron’s way where we put tape around my shoulder with Phil pulling firmly behind me while Laura held my hand and applied traction as she lifted my arm. After several tries this didn’t work either. After over an hour of trying to put my shoulder in we decided to set off the PLB before it got too dark.
I was shaking by this time; having no shirt on and soaked from my dunking in the water. Laura said I needed to get into warm clothes and a sleeping bag to control the hypothermia. Laura and Phil helped me get my harness off. That left my thermal bottoms. I checked I had underwear on and then they helped me pull my thermal bottoms off, as well as my shoes and socks. Then Phil and Laura looked at me expectantly.
Me: No! You are not taking my boxers off me.”
Laura: You have to, you are going to freeze.”
Phil: Don’t worry we’re not going to care
Me: No way!
Laura: Simon, I change 80 year old men (at work, Laura is a nurse for those who don’t know). It doesn’t matter.
Me: No!!
Laura: You have to change!
Me: I’m doing it myself get me my boxers.
I’ll admit it was quite painful and awkward changing out of wet boxers and into new ones but my dignity was still intact by the end of it.
Laura and Phil dressed me, put down my ground sheet and very slowly put me into my sleeping bag. At this point Laura got out two neurofen and two panadol. Now I don’t tell lots of people this but I don’t like swallowing tablets.
Me: Laura, I don’t like swallowing tablets.
Laura: Well Simon. I’m sorry I don’t have any jam to mix with your tablets so suck it up princess. When your 80 you’ll be swallowing 30 a day.
I chewed them up and swallowed them one by one.
At this point Phil and I had one more go at popping my shoulder in but by this time any small movements were very painful and we gave up quickly. There was increasingly more pain but once the tablets hit that took the edge off.
I heard Steve and Damon talking and I turned around and saw Steve hand Damon a garbage bag. In the 30m section of canyon we were stuck in with a small ledge and two piles of rock, which were jutting out of the water, Damon had to empty himself.
Laura: Why didn’t you do it before we started?
Damon: I did! But nature calls again.
With that, Damon sat on a boulder the size of a backpack facing away from us. All of us stared at him not really thinking he was about to take a dump 6m away from us. Damon turns around. “Why are you all looking? Stop looking!” So we stopped looking. And he pooed.
After waiting an hour (before it sounded like we were waiting an hour for Damon to poo) some of us heard the sound of a chopper but after a few minutes it went away. Another hour or so passed as Damon started cooking dinner when we saw the chopper in the distance heading away from us. We flashed our head torches but they didn’t see us. After 10 more minutes, by which time it was dark, the lights from the chopper suddenly shone on us. Laura and Damon hurriedly stuck on my helmet and harness and everyone packed quickly while sticking their helmets on. After a bit of maneuvering I could feel the wind hitting on us and I got hit in the head by a few sticks and stones. One of the paramedics in a blue jump suit with an aviator helmet and a lot of gear was lowered by a cable straight down into the freezing water and got drenched. I turned around a few minutes later and another had appeared. They came over.
Paramedic: Hi how are you going? My name is ……… what’s your name? What’s the problem.
Me: I dislocated my shoulder.
Paramedic: Why do you have all that tape on your shoulder?
Me: I’ve done it before.
Paramedic: Why are you canyoning?!
Me: I haven’t done it for two years!
They were good blokes and after doing their initial checks they gave me two doses of morphine. However I was nauseous and still painful. Any movement caused sharp jabs of pain. They put me in a full body harness and then contacted HQ to explain the situation and to organise a plan.
I was still in a lot of pain and they gave me intranasal fentanyl. That stuff is the good stuff! No pain except when I moved.
Paramedic: So, Simon we are going to try and winch you out tonight. It’s going to be painful but not as painful as it would be if you stayed here tonight.
Me: okay
Paramedic: When we go up you are going to spin just close your eyes if you get disorientated. Whatever you do, do not touch this buckle. It’s a parachute release and you will come off the cable and fall on the ground.
Me: Yep, don’t touch buckle or I die.
The paramedics and Laura, Phil and the others then literally carried me to a suitable position to be winched out. Apart from my foot being stomped on and falling into the side of the gorge all went smoothly and I sat down.
Paramedic: By the way your friend’s shit is in a bag just to the left of you.
Great.
At this point hypothermia was in place and I was shaking uncontrollably. They chucked my sleeping bag on me and that helped but I was still sitting with my feet in water and still cold. I stopped shivering after a while but I thought that was more likely because I had got too cold rather than getting warmer. I needed more pain relief but the paramedic said he didn’t want me too off my face when I was getting winched out. They stuck ear plugs in and goggles on me and I couldn’t really make out anything. I did hear “leave the drugs here in case something obscene happens” and “we might have to take him out tomorrow.”
Fortunately the chopper came back and a green glow stick on a hook lowered down in front of me which complemented the red one I was holding. They put the hook through my carabiners and one of the paramedic’s. I was then pulled into the air. Surprisingly there was no pain as I went up. I was spinning around and saw the others all looking up at me. I was pulled up out of the canyon and then saw lots of trees and leaves going everywhere. It was loud and the wind was buffeting us everywhere. We spun around like crazy and everything was a blur and then before I knew it I was level with the helicopter and two other paramedics in blue suits and aviator helmets. I was turned around and pushed backwards onto the yellow stretcher. They took my wet socks off and threw a sleeping bag on me. Then the pain started again. It went from a 3/10 and got up to about a 7/10. More fentanyl and I was good.
Paramedic: (over the radio) I’m worried the others are going to get hypothermic so I’ll stay with them tonight. Don’t bother taking us out until 6am tomorrow. Set up a ground unit and we’ll fly them there tomorrow for reassessment.
For some reason I suddenly realised what I was wearing which was pretty much my boxers, my thermal bottoms and nothing else. Westmead was full which was a shame because I was hoping to see Bron but instead I went to Liverpool Hospital. They fixed me up and it was hard to believe only five hours ago I had been in Davies Canyon with a dislocation.
I talked to Phil the next day and they were winched out in the morning and enjoyed an awesome view of Davies canyon and Kanangra Walls while they were airlifted by chopper back to Kanangra camp site. A probably once in a lifetime trip. Or at least until next summer.