Old Days and New Guys

   For better or worse, it’s not the same. Being a boatman is altogether different than it was twenty years ago. Over a hundred boatmen currently working in Grand Canyon started in the seventies. Many of us started with companies that were fairly new and the trips consisted largely of getting the folks down the river without too much irreparable damage. Interpretation was minimal, sanitation primitive and food simply dreadful. Equipment was surplus, slipshod, and often downright scary. Side canyons that have well worn trails today were still being discovered.

   Although there were a few mythical boatman even then, there weren’t many elder boatmen to look up to or learn from other than the outfitters themselves, and many of them were new to the business too. It was not unknown for a boatman to run his own boat an his first or second trip. Reputations were made, egos flourished, and, well, it was the seventies. Trips were more of an adventure than a tour.

   As we learned more about the canyon and were better able to interpret it, individual egos became a less dominant part of the trip. Cooperation and communication among trips became more commonplace. The food, due largely to the fact that the crew had to eat it all summer, began to improve. Trails formed at side canyons and boats began to hold air. Low water came to seem less desperate as skills improved; ugly rocks and tricky routes became charted in our minds. As boatmen gained and shared experience, they gained a modicum of respect, if only among themselves.

   More came to be expected from us. We were expected to know the rocks and plants, to provide decent health care, to find a camp before dark; to be sane, safe and sober all day long. Acts were cleaned up. The expedition gave way to the tour.

   The new boatman looking for work is entering a different world. Apprenticeship is more drawn out, training seminars more frequent and comprehensive. The likelihood of getting a boat in the near future is far bleaker. The wealth of knowledge and experience being passed on to younger boatmen is voluminous.

   Most campsites are well known, heavily trammeled and in high demand. Trails are designated and stabilized. It takes great creativity to do something so new or so dumb that it hasn’t been done before.

   Gear loads tend more toward how much equipment can be brought along instead of how little; how well we can insulate ourselves from the environment instead of fitting into it. Gone are the days when a Mike Yard would start a trip with a buffalo robe and a pair of shorts.

   Use levels are at an all time high. Regulations continue to mount, rules of the road must be observed. Behavior is under ever greater scrutiny. We are licensed, card carrying boatmen.

   There are still and always will be the adventures of each trip– the bad runs, the storms, culinary misadventures, hijynx, hell takeouts, romance, big days in the gorge; parties, rumors, personalities and the unforeseen. But all this is incorporated into a far more structured framework, a defined profession, an established tradition.

   No, it ain’t what it used to be. But that’s just as well. What we may have lost in total freedom, we have gained in knowledge and professionalism. And we still get to play in the sandbox all summer long.

   Into this changed world the new boatman brings enthusiasm, fresh outlooks and wonder. We must welcome you and be open to your insights; without your inspiration, energy and spontaneity the guiding profession would stagnate and decay. We can often pass on to you in a few trips what it took us an embarrassing number of years to learn. Often though, not believing what we say, you must learn things for themselves. Or disprove them.

   Challenge yourselves and the old farts. Milk us old fools for all you can. Learn the stories. Discover as much as you can about the place. Be an authority. Read, listen, ask, experiment. Fight undesirable trends. Celebrate and revel in the place and what it does to people. Stir things up. Take care of the Canyon. Treasure spontaneity and wild eyed wonder; pursue excellence.

   It is you who must continue the evolution of a wild adventure into a proud tradition. Carry it on. Carry it further.

Brad Dimock