Editor’s note: Last week local RCMP Constable Andrew Henneberry put his own life at risk to swim out to a woman trapped in the swollen Columbia River. Here in the Pioneer, in part one of a two-part feature, recounts the circumstances of his selfless rescue. Catch part two in next week’s Pioneer.

By Steve Hubrecht
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The woman was trapped in the middle of the Columbia River. She had her feet on something deep below the surface, a sandbar, a sunken tree, nobody is sure exactly what. It was enough — just enough — that she could stand on it, and keep her shoulders, neck and head above the swirling current, barely. The spring runoff had swollen the familiar lazy river into an angry new mood, coiled and roiling like a cold, silty serpent, laden with branches and other dangerous debris.

She had footing but was trapped by the current, and the frigid water was depleting what little energy she had left with each passing second. It was all she could do to hang on, leaning against the downstream flow, fighting to keep her balance and not get swept away or pulled under.

The longer she stayed there, the more fatigue and the numbing cold took a toll. She got lower and lower in the water, unable to keep her neck and head up, and then suddenly, horribly, her head went under. Moments later, she came up again, panicked, screaming, pleading for help.

Columbia Valley RCMP Constable Andrew Henneberry, another police officer and a bystander stood on the shore, calling to the woman, trying to keep her calm. Columbia Valley Search and Rescue (CVSAR) was on the way, as was the RCMP police boat.

Once the woman’s head went under, Henneberry knew he couldn’t stay on the riverbank no longer. He turned to the other officer, his supervisor, and asked if he could swim out the woman.

“There was no way I could just stand on the side of the river and listen to her,” Henneberry told the Pioneer.

It was a risky move: the treacherous current was strong, fast and freezing. But risky or not, Henneberry and his supervisor knew it might be the only way to save the woman’s life. CVSAR and the police boat were at least 15 minutes away. She might not last that long.

Henneberry had been a competitive swimmer for a decade, and helps coach the local Columbia Valley Otter swim club. If anybody could save the woman, it was him. Henneberry’s supervisor gave his approval, and Henneberry stripped down and plunged in.

***

Last Tuesday, June 29, was not the kind of evening you expect to possibly freeze to death. Some thermometers hit 42 degrees Celsius. There wasn’t a cloud in the clear blue sky, and the wind was almost nonexistent. The woman, a 36-year old Invermere local, set out on her paddleboard for a cruise around the wetlands, a trip she’d done before. This time though, she decided to check out the stretch of the Columbia River, where it narrows back into a proper river, just north of the open and relatively placid section of wetlands downstream from Lake Windermere.

But as those who regularly paddle the river know, once you leave the open wetlands, you quickly encounter the Columbia’s confluence with Toby Creek, and the current becomes too powerful to paddle back up against. It’s a one-way street, at the calmest of times, let alone when spring runoff has the river in spate, as it did last week.

The surging Columbia River quickly swept the woman along. Alarmed at the suddenly serious situation, she pulled out her cellphone and made a distressed call to a friend. That friend quickly called 911. The woman continued down the river, coming to the spot where the Columbia narrows and squeezes under a rail bridge. Even with low water levels, paddleboarders need to duck to get under the bridge. With the water levels as high as they were last week, the woman would have barely fit under. She may even have briefly become hung up on the bridge — official accounts are unclear — which surely would have been terrifying. After the bridge the river rolls out in a wide C-shaped bend beside the CPR tracks. During runoff, much of the bend is submerged, making it one of the widest and fastest-flowing parts of the river: 25 metres bank to bank, and a good 20 feet deep or more. Somehow, the woman managed to get her feet on something — the sandbar or tree — down under the surface and stop her downstream descent. She fought to keep her position and keep her head above water.

A bystander on shore called 911, reporting the location. The spot, by incredibly good fortune, is easily accessed by vehicle, via Capilo Way and then a gravel road down to the tracks. Henneberry arrived on scene in a matter of minutes, his supervisor shortly after, joining the bystander in trying to keep the woman calm, telling her help was en route.

She emotionally called for help again, fear evident in her voice, the icy torrent clearly weakening her.

“She was getting lower in the water. She was starting to fatigue,” said Henneberry.

Then her head went under, and Henneberry knew he had to act now before it was too late.

See part two of the feature in next week’s Pioneer.