lost numerous grappling hooks to the river. Occasionally a rope would break, but the real culprit seemed to be substandard knots. Time and time again the men just plain lost their grappling hooks amongst the riverbed.

Some of the younger volunteers talked of abandoning the search. The mounting cost of equipment loss (the sum to replace dozens of grappling hooks can tax a small Fire Company you know) was not the real issue. Exhaustion was driving some discontent but the elder members of the brigade persuaded the nay sayers to "shut up and pitch in". What they lacked in knot tying they made up in communication skills. Neighboring counties learned of the dilemma and several emergency service agencies loaned an impressive quantity of grappling hooks to aid their fellow firefighters.

The ongoing loss of grappling hooks was puzzling. One after another pulled free of the knot or slipped from the rope. The recovery effort went on for weeks. This was above and beyond the call of duty and there was reason for this. Bud Wozinski served as the county Director of Refuse Collection and managed the Office of Sewerage Services. With his family grieving and suffering lingering feelings of remorse, abuse of power was not beyond Bud. His boys still experienced sleepless nights and his wife was on medication to ease the discomfort of heartbreak and nervous breakdown.

Wozinski applied a little pressure to the boys at Company 16. The suggestiveness and implication was all there. If the search for Tripod ended there may be some "confusion" with the smooth and timely operation of sanitation services in the county. The handwriting was on the wall. No dog (or no decent burial of said dog) and the county would be in a hell of a mess! The volunteers with the fire company were appalled with this abuse of power and threatening stance. Blackmail! Only the civic minded nature of the brigade led them into the third month of the recovery operation.

Donations poured into the Fire Company. As the community learned of the equipment loss they donated lofty sums to their beloved firefighters. The treasurer was ordering grappling hooks by the case. He soon realized a better price break could be earned by requisitioning them by the gross. The men in the field meant well … they just lacked the ability to tie a good knot. They tried everything! Square knots, half hitches, butterflys, figure eights, bowlines and a bowline on a bight, all to no avail. Scout masters turned out in an effort to teach the men how to properly tie a good knot. Everything resembled granny knots and the loss of rescue equipment continued.

A local trucking company donated free transportation and delivery services as the brigades finance manager began buying larger palletized quantities of grappling hooks. Years ago the Fire Company began to supply the men with zippered boots. It was suddenly very clear why. The dragging operation continued and the morale of those dedicated volunteers plummeted. Admitting to the loss of another hook became a real sore spot.

At times the rescue boat would leave a man behind so they could load more spare hooks into the craft. "More hooks!" became the battle cry as the search carried on. They dragged hundreds of yards of riverbed below the rapids and when they doubted the report of the last sighting they moved the search upstream. "I've snagged another" shouted a rookie. "Can you pull it free?", queried the Assistant Chief. "No, she's really hung in the bottom and the knot is slipping!" "Cut it loose! We're loosing time." Things really appeared hopeless. Well over a thousand grappling hooks had been lost to the river and the spirits of the volunteers continued in a downward spiral.

Early one morning Wozinski stopped at the area co-op for some goods. As he exited his sedan (a county car) the pick up truck next to him backfired. The resounding blast gave Bud quite a start …… and down he went, literally frightened to death. The LOUD report of the engine bore a striking resemblance to a shotgun discharge and Bud keeled right over. Graveyard dead. It seems ol' Bud was a bit of a womanizer and the authorities speculate he thought this backfiring pick up was in fact the shotgun of a neighbors husband. Shock obviously stopped his ticker and down he went! The search for Tripod ended that afternoon.

Many of you can probably see where this tale is headed. Actually, I really hope that just a few of you are still reading this. River safety is not to be taken lightly. The North Anna falls is a "pay attention" rapid with little margin for error. This section of river is loaded with hooks firmly anchored into the riverbed. Should you choose to brave this rapid …… keep your eyes open! A capsize here will influence this man-eating menace to rip the flesh from your body. You can see why this manmade hazard is rarely spoken of. Fear of liability and the embarrassment of admitting to failure keep the 

whole story rather secretive.    The dog was never found.   Cris Leonard, 2000