It doesn’t matter how experienced or knowledgeable you are. When you put yourself at the mercy of the bush, there’s always a chance that something will go wrong. It pays to be prepared.
Nathan was pretty lucky he had brought along a PLB emergency beacon when he and a mate set off for The Castle and Mount Owen from Long Gully, on the south coast of New South Wales. Both experienced hikers, they couldn’t have possibly predicted what went wrong on their adventure but they handled their situation well and sought help when they absolutely needed to.
This is their story…
Off to good start at the first night’s campsite – Sassafrass Campground.
We lost the trail in the thick overgrowth of the rainforest south of Watson’s Pass on the way to Hollands Gorge, resorting to map-and-compass navigation we were confident of where we were, knew exactly where we needed to be, but were having difficulty finding a navigable route.
Taking our path slowly and steadily we descended small creeks until we reached the junction between Camp Rock Creek and Holland’s Creek and the small campsite there that had been our intended destination the night before. The sight of the fire-pit and rocks piled by previous travellers as stools heralded our return to the trail and buoyed our spirits significantly.
The trip down the pass to Holland’s Gorge.
It was pretty tough going, even before things turned bad.
While navigating one of the tiny tributaries which intersected our path, the boulder upon which I had been standing slipped through the sodden earth and slid out from underneath me. The fall was inevitable. Unavoidable. There was no time to correct or move to a better position.
I went down. Hard.
The nightmare of a serious fracture was immediately dispelled but the ankle was not a hundred percent. I deployed the trusty first aid kit and anti-inflammatories, strapped on my boot and made slow but steady progress. I leaned heavily on my trusted hiking stick and my companion’s pathfinding skill that day. Feeling certain that we could, we pressed on. Albeit at a slower pace and knowing that today’s journey would take us up a ridge, a far superior extraction point if nothing else.
When I say we ascended the ridge above Angels Creek, I mean we elevated ourselves. Almost 500 metres up in just over a kilometre. Achieving this in around two and a half hours was a proud moment. This brought us to a camping cave, a campfire and a critical point.
We set about drying the gear which had remained soaked through our scrambling through the dense, wet undergrowth beside the creeks, and got some rest. The night was long and cool, my ankle throbbing through the night reminding me of the choice we would need to make come sun up.
Post fall, we climbed up the ridge to an unnamed camp cave for our last night.
We ascended to the cliff immediately above our previous night’s camp and activated the tiny yellow box. Remembering all the little instructions about finding clear sky, as high as possible. All those little tips that I promised myself I wouldn’t need to know but should learn anyway.
We sat waiting for almost two hours, jumping at every jetliner overhead, eager to hear any aircraft sound. Hoping it was for us.
As we sat I worried I had wasted time and resources searching for us when we could have soldiered on. I worried we had embarrassed ourselves like those people who set out for a week camping with a woollen blanket and a sack of spuds. I was wrong.
The rescue helicopter found us. The paramedic dropped down, talked us through the procedure, and winched us to safety. Once we had landed the crew talked to us excitedly about their bushwalking experiences in nearby areas. Finally, they thanked us for doing what we had done in setting off the beacon before my condition had deteriorated further, and for making this decision now and not at 5:30 at night at the bottom of a gully. Loved ones were phoned. Tensions were eased. We were home safe and sound.
I’ve had some time to reflect on the whole event and I think the key lesson is simple.
Before you set out, when you are calm and rational, set out clear rules for yourself about what conditions will trigger you to set off the beacon. Trust in this plan. Understand your first aid kit, understand yourself, and keep calm.
There’s always time for a little panic in your sleeping bag when you’re safely tucked in for the night, but stay calm under pressure and you’re already halfway there.
The aftermath.
These guys actually hired their PLB from The Bushwalking Blog. It’s been the only time one of my beacons has been involved in a rescue, thankfully, but it makes me pretty stoked that my service might have played a part in saving someone’s life.
If you’re looking to hire yourself a PLB emergency beacon, check out my ultimate guide to online and offline PLB hire services. If you think you’d use one regularly it’s probably time to buy your very own PLB.
Hike safe and smart.
Got any thoughts on Nathan’s story or have a story of your own? If you have anything to say please let us know by commenting below.
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Hey thanks for the story great to hear how the whole situation evolved even for prepared hikers. Question though, setting off the PLB, is there a cost for the rescue? or are the rescue services funded by governement or donations?
Hey Darren,
Rescue services are indeed mostly government and donation funded. However, in cases where the person rescued has done something really stupid I know some people have been fined by police. For example, the guy who set off for a few days through rugged Blue Mountains terrain with only potatoes and Naan bread was fined $500.
Hope that answers your question!
Neil
Hey, just been up this ridge… nice climb . Am I correct to assume your gear (Black Wolf ~60L backpack) is still in the camp cave below your described pick-up point? cheers… or is there someone else out there ?
Hi Vinci,
I doubt that Nathan will be stopping by to stumble across your comment so thought I’d reply on his behalf. Nathan has been reunited with his gear by NSW Parks and Wildlife thanks to this article. It wasn’t that long ago that this all happened, so if you’re saying you’ve seen a backpack out there it probably was Nathan’s but it will be gone now.
Cheers
Neil
Hi Neil,
This reminds me of a training walk I did with one other about 6 years ago when the intention of the walk was to get ready for a forthcoming trip to Tasmania. This turned out to be much harder than Tasmania ever was. We intended coming in the same way as you but to Folly POint and then down through Watson’s Pass to the creek below and then through the break in the cliff to the junction of Hollands Creek and Camping Rock Creek. This track has suffered with neglect over the last 10 years as the Sassafras entrance is being much less used than it used to be. So we struggled to even find the normal camp spot. Next morning our intentions were to scale a ridge from Hollands Creek up to Mt Elliot and climb onto Mt Sturgiss and back into Hidden Valley. After an hour up the main valley floor we started up the ridge which half way up turned into a cliff (no sign of this on the topo). The scramble around the cliff was exhausting as the ground was extremely crumbly. Mounting the cliff we saw a very scrubby ridgeline ahead. Pushing on through the scrub started to take its toll so we were pretty had it by the time we reached the base of the last little climb onto Mt Sturgiss. In Ron Doughton’s book it is described as a short 4 metre scramble but its not that simple. By the time we got to the top of this it was 3:30 and we hadn’t had lunch. When we come to push on to the top of Mt Sturgiss we turned to see a wall of banksias which meant we basically weaved our way forward. We got to a large rock and got up to have a look – by now it was 4:30. Both absolutely exhausted, and on turning to the west, I saw a huge storm approaching so I decided that the better choice was to call for help (via a mobile phone which had reception from Milton). The helicopter turned up just before dark and whisked us off to Milton. While we were not injured, and we could have spent the night out there if push came to shove, a decision had to be made for the safety of the people you have with you. I made the decision to call help only after weighing up what could have happened if we had tried to keep going at that stage. The rescue guys were only too happy to pick us up as they had no other emergencies at that time. And flying by helicopter over the Budawangs was an unexpected thrill, exhausted as we were.
There were certainly lessons I learnt from this but I had had some 40 years experience in the bush and thought we would get some luck somewhere along the way. As you say, sometimes shit just happens.
Hey Robert,
Thanks for sharing your story. Another really valuable one for people to hear and, as with Nathan’s case, sounds like you made the right decision.
Cheers
Neil