Two years ago I did an early spring trip in the Gila Wilderness, record snowfall that winter made for a big melt (by our standards) and the Gila was running swift and higher than usual. Average crossings were above the knee, some were above the waist in the deepest sections and about 25-50ft across, turbulent, sooty, and the riverbed would change underfoot with every step. On the last day of our trip I fell into a deep hole in the river bottom and lost my footing, fell back up past my navel in the river and quickly moved on down stream until I was out of the depression. I didn't mind the stumble, my vital gear was in a drysack, but I realized that the camera I was using (which didn't belong to me, rather my hiking partner) was completely soaked (forgot to zip the baggie) after my hipbelt pocket filled up with water. I toasted his batteries and his camera for the duration of the trip, he managed to revive the camera but we lost our photograph taking machine.
On that same trip, on the vert first day, on the very last crossing of the day, I was depleted having hiked a 13 mile day that involved over 100+ crossings up the undulating West Fork of the Gila River. The day was coming to an end and we were about 1/2 mile shy of camp with only one crossing left on the day, but of course the last crossing was the shortest but easily the most turbulent and swift. I wasn't confident in my ability to cross with my pack on and didn't want to risk soaking all my clothing at the end of the day with freezing temperatures expected for the evening. I stripped down to nothing but my underwear and hucked my pack and clothing across the river (barely made it, stupid idea in hindsight!!!) and crossed with just my trekking poles. I made it across with some considerable effort and was able to grab a large extended branch before being pulled on shore with a smile. Watching my father in law take a spill and float down stream minutes earlier with a panicked expression on his face didn't help with my confidence. I'm not really a fan of water come to think of it.
I learned a lot on that trip about reading the river, knowing where and when to cross. Sometimes you have no choice and have to bite the bullet and head straight across and hold on, but if you're patient, walking up and downstream in search of safer/easier alternative routes across stream can be the wisest decision.