60 Feet Down
Thick stringy clouds hung lower than usual over Ketchikan Alaska, giving that Labor Day morning an eerie feel. The air was pungent with the smell of fresh rain and sharp with cold air. Janet Hanna awoke early to an unusually full house. Martin, her husband of nearly two years, was away on Gravina, one of the many neighboring islands, for a three-day hunting trip. Her parents Bill and Leazan, and her sister Joyce Holloway, were visiting from Washington. The pair of sisters were excitedly preparing to embark on a challenging twelve-mile hike. This consisted of trekking up a mountain, known by locals as Deer Mountain, and climbing down the other side to Blue Lake before finally climbing up and over steep North Bird Peak, most of which had not been maintained. While both were well-traversed in hiking the land, they had never attempted this hike’s full route before. Janet, a first-time mother to a one-year-old daughter, hadn't gotten the chance to spend time alone in a while. She was itching to bask in the fresh Alaskan air and Ketchikan had some of the best to offer. They set out, catching a ride from their father and bringing along Janet's bodyguard, a lean floppy-eared mix named J.D, short for John Doe or Jack Daniels depending on who you ask. He was a friendly and loyal rescue Janet had adopted a few years prior after finally convincing Martin to let her have a dog.
8:00 a.m.
The party finally arrived at the trailhead, having just undergone an hour long car ride from one end of the island to the other. Bill handed the girls his cell phone, a large boxy rectangle with an antenna, as was the model back then. He felt safe doing so, knowing that Joyce carried her fully stocked search and rescue pack. He knew to come to get them around three and happily headed back home to spend some time with his little blonde-haired, blue eyed granddaughter.
As they began to hike, the pair were pleasantly surprised to see that they had the trail to themselves despite it being a holiday. In no time, they had sailed up the first trail consisting of approximately two and a half rocky miles upwards, all the while paying no mind to the ever-furling fog.
Meanwhile, an island or two over, Martin and his hunting buddy/coworker awoke to the same suspiciously thick haze. Upon seeing the fog, Martin, a sailor with a sailor’s mouth, recalled thinking, “Well, we’re fucked.”
12:00 p.m.
The sisters had settled in for a snack at the weather-beaten cabin that rested atop Deer Mountain, and the pleasant conversation made up for the lack of visibility. While Deer Mountain and its peak usually offer great scenery, the fog was still holding fast, blocking any hope of a view. By now, the fog had grown into a blinding haze and proved to make the unkempt trek ahead of them rough. This caused an inkling from earlier that morning to begin sneaking back into their heads, though, they decided to push through it as they had already come too far to let the fog ruin their day now. The two sisters began attempting to find their way to the next landmark, Blue Lake.
Back on Gravina, Martin and company were preparing to head back. The fog made it a hard task and left both men feeling nervous. As they set out they kept their boat close to the shore attempting to “skirt the beach”, as Martin called it. The men continued inching along, keeping a sharp eye on the shore to know where they were going. Martin recalls that “The murk was so bad you couldn't see 100 feet in front of you.”
3:00 p.m.
Knowing they were unable to see the trail markers because of the fog, the pair of sisters had completely missed Blue Lake. The two brought topographic maps of the terrain and using them, tried to reroute. Joyce used her skills as a trained member of search and rescue and Janet her growing knowledge of Alaska’s wilderness. They decided to attempt going around the peak instead of continuing over it. Janet still remembers the plan, saying she told Joyce, “We’ll give it 30 minutes, if it doesn't work we’ll turn around.”
In a brief moment of clarity and a break in the fog, they saw a ridge and followed it, deciding it was their best option. The sisters’ feet started to slosh and crunch as the ground began to become snowy. After a while they noticed what seemed to be a small ravine and planned to climb down it to better their path. As they approached it J.D. suddenly stopped cold, ears pricked up, refusing to go forward. Janet turned to Joyce and said, “If he won’t go I won't.”
They decided to attempt the ravine despite the dog’s protest. They knew it wasn't a good idea, and in hindsight none of it was, but in a rare occurrence for Ketchikan, it wasn't raining and the day seemed to have so much potential ahead of it. On the topic of this decision, Joyce said, “We probably had the end goal so much in mind we wanted to keep trying.” They would soon learn it was a dead drop-off.
Janet stopped to remove her fleece jacket and rolled it up, stuffing it into her backpack. She decided to go first, planning to shimmy her way down the ravine. “I didn't think anything of it.” she recollects. It wasn't unlike something she had done many times before. Her intention was to climb down the hill as if it were a rock wall going feet first. As she grabbed the first branch the earth immediately gave way. It was not a pretty or delicate fall. She tumbled down with the eroded earth and her face slammed into the side of the hill. Her body seemed to bounce and tumble like a hurtling rock. After hours of hiking, it had only taken a split second decision to undo it. She had no life-flashing moment; she only remembers thinking “Oh that hurt!”, claiming she was more focused on the sudden pain than anything else. She landed slumped over at the bottom of an estimated sixty-foot ravine. Landing on more dirt and snow, she only remembers the continuous smell of “Fresh cold air and dirt.”
Joyce, paralyzed with fear, had just watched her sister fly through the air like a ragdoll. All she could think was, “Oh my god I just killed my sister!” It was clear Janet was unable to move. Her bloody face seemed limp and unconscious, yet she called to Joyce saying, “I'm ok...face wound bleed… I'm ok.”
Janet recalls knowing Joyce made her way down but claims she has no idea how due to the fact she could have been passing out. However, Joyce recalls sarcastically thinking to herself “This is going to be great for both of us.”
Fueled by adrenaline, Joyce made her way down, slipping a little and with a reluctant dog in tow. Janet's body burned and pulsed with pain that barely allowed her to sit up. As a woman with a professed high tolerance for pain, and having no idea at the moment, she later found out that she had broken a finger, pelvic bone, and had an orbital fracture on her right eye socket. All of which was accompanied by some gnarly bruising and a very bloodied face.
Amazingly, the fleece Janet and stuffed into her pack minutes before was the only barrier between her spine and the plummeting earth. “Everything above and below the pack broke.” Janet recounts. It may have been the very thing that saved her life.
As Joyce left, desperately in search of cell phone service and brandishing hunters’ tape to mark her path, Janet attempted to walk, going against the advice of Joyce who had firmly told her not to move. Inevitably, she fell again and began to slide down the icy snow to the edge of the lake, unable to stop herself due to the pain. “This is it.” Janet thought, and claims that the fleece filled backpack was the only thing that stopped her from sliding into the lake and drowning, saving her life for the second time that day. As someone who usually hiked alone, Janet recalled a rule she usually followed: if you get yourself in, you have to get yourself out.
5:00 p.m.
Bill decided to head out early to pick his daughters up. As soon as he got to the trailhead he noticed a search and rescue team filling the parking lot. Clueless to the situation and thinking nothing of it he decided to use the payphone to call the girls. When he got no answer, he decided to call his wife Leazan. To his dismay, she broke the news explaining that 911 had contacted her shortly after he had left for the trailhead. Immediately, he met up with search and rescue to join the hunt. By now, Martin and his hunting buddy were just docking their boat back in Ketchikan. It would be an hour drive north before he would get home to find a bleak and solemn welcome. Martin remembers that night well saying, “Everyone was pissed off and nervous.”
As soon as he could, he headed down to the trailhead to meet with search and rescue just as Bill had, only to find them packing up and heading home. It was now too dark and dangerous for them to continue looking.
“It was a difficult 24 hours.” said Martin, “Nobody knew how hurt she was cuz’ nobody could get to her.”
As the hours waned and the daylight was replaced with darkness, Joyce left several times throughout the night, never fully sure if she had gotten the message through to 911 or not. To keep warm, Janet had been placed in an emergency bag/blanket and was given Tylenol from Joyce's backpack. While Joyce tried in vain to light a fire in the damp earth, Janet recalls not wanting to drink water because peeing (with an unknowingly broken pelvis) was unbearably painful.
Throughout the night J.D., the trusty dog, patrolled the grounds no doubt trying to scare off any unwelcome visitors. In a brief moment of comedy, both sisters remember seeing him floating on a chunk of ice, having no idea how he got there but having too many other worries to care.
2:00 a.m.
The coldest part of the night was soaking itself into the skin of the two sisters, who were still alone and stranded. They had dressed well and with supplies from Joyce's search and rescue bag, neither of them got hypothermia. It was a long night, and Janet knew no one would be coming until the morning.
6:00 a.m.
At some point in the morning, the two freezing sisters finally heard the drone of a helicopter. Though, hope was lost as quickly as it came. Even though the fog had lifted, the two were still hidden to the helicopter operator. It flew in and out several times and each time it went the sisters were left wondering if it would ever come back. Janet even remembers making what she thought was direct eye contact with the pilot only to watch him fly away. They began to lose hope at that point.
There was only one moment of clarity both sisters say they remember vividly. Years ago, mountain goats were planted in the terrain for hunting. Usually, they are hard to spot. The loud and constant droning of the helicopter must have frightened them because a full herd of goats came catapulting down the side of the mountain, the perfect distance away for Janet and Joyce to watch this beautiful display of nature. When asked, Janet said, “That's my favorite part. I had hiked a lot and never seen any.”
8:00 a.m.
Making its fourth round, the helicopter finally spotted them. They would later find out, in another twist of fate, that the only reason the helicopter could finally identify them was because of the hunter’s tape Joyce had planted for herself during the night. By this point, Janet had been lying on the ground with a broken face and pelvis with hardly any food, water or pain medication for nearly 18 hours. Janet was still in shock and was quickly flown to the local hospital. She had been working as a nurse at the sole hospital on the island, and quickly learned that the entire night shift had heard the news and stayed to take care of her when she arrived. When asked if she had any idea of her injuries by that point she said laughing, “I was still clueless. I think I'm invincible.” She was, for lack of a better term, in denial and as soon as her coworkers/nurses came in to take care of her she fired off directions: “Catheter, Bear hugger, IV!” To which she was met with a well-intentioned, “Shut up, we’ll take care of it.”
This was just the start for Janet, and the road to recovery was a long and painful one. She was now facing many surgeries and a possible blood transfusion, not to mention a one-year-old daughter still at home. The fall was hard for everybody involved. One of Janet’s coworkers, who was on duty when she was first brought in, has only recently told Janet that she had to get her composure before entering the room because Janet's face looked so bad.
When asked what the biggest lesson the sisters had learned, the answer was simple: trust your gut. It took both sisters two-plus years to fully move on from the memories, and in Janet's case to fully heal. However, they are both alive and well and have not let the experience stop them from living adventurously.
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Haley Hanna is a junior pursuing a Baccalaureate of Arts in English with a concentration in Literature and a minor in Creative Writing. She has always enjoyed reading and writing and is always excited to explore new styles of writing to express and explore creativity.