My Mentor, Richard Rhodes

By Victor Whitman

Times Herald-Record

July 19, 2008

NARROWSBURG — Richard Rhodes walks down a short sandy footpath that leads to placid yet deceptively dangerous waters of the Delaware.

At this place known as "the beach," the river reflects the pines and mountains off a watery pane of glass.

On the Fourth of July, 17-year-old Pablo Ferreira waded out yards from here and the Milanville bridge, and then fell into the deeper portion of the channel, got swept down and drowned. From the shore to a center bridge pier, the water is waist deep. But just beyond, about half way across the river, the channel drops to 9 feet deep and the current, though seemingly frozen, is fast moving and powerful.

"We recovered the body under the bridge," he said. "They got to him quick. Too late."

Later that afternoon, Ryan Nibar, 27, of Queens, waded into seemingly still water downstream, hit a deep spot and also died, becoming the third person on the Delaware to drown this summer.

Since June 2003, a dozen people have drowned. They were swimmers, rafters, canoeists and kayakers. They all had the same M.O. Eleven weren't wearing life jackets. One other didn't have his on properly.

Rhodes, 72, who has patrolled the river for 29 years as a founding member of the National Canoe Safety Patrol, has seen this too often. In 29 years, he's rarely approached the river without a life jacket on.

"We are trained to be in the water and we have ours on all the time," he said. "We are very respectful of the river. We are very respectful. This is not a swim club."

Safety Patrol volunteers in kayaks and canoes, armed with whistles, warn people to put on life jackets, paddling over with safety lines when a raft flips or a swimmer flounders. They also train the liveries and the rangers on how to save lives.

But people still just toss their jackets in the raft. The raft flips. They can't swim.

People get drunk on beer and hop on a tube. Others wade across the stream in a T-shirt and shoes, thinking it will be no problem, fall into the deep channel, gulp water and panic.

Ingrid Petereck, an education specialist for the National Park Service stationed at the Zane Grey museum, hands out brochures and puts out warnings.

"You just go into the season hoping nothing will happen," she said.

Rhodes heads just downstream from the bridge, where Ferreira drowned. Rocks jut out as the river flows down five successive shelves and forms rapids known as Skinners Falls. Three teenage girls balancing on the sides of a grey raft hit the rapids, none with life vests on.

"Sun tan time," Rhodes said, eyeing them from a ledge rock and holding a safety rope to throw in case one fell out of the raft.

"This is not a theme park," Rhodes said later. "They don't turn the water on and off."

vwhitman@th-record.com