The Raging Zambezi up Close
Trip Start
Jan 20, 2005
1
50
58
Trip End
Dec 27, 2005
Livingstone,
Zambia
Sunday, September 11, 2005
The falls themselves are quite dry this time of year because of so little rain. What you are most impressed with is the length and depth of the gorge that the mighty Zambezi flows into. We walked around the falls from the Zambia side and were even able to walk across the area normally covered in water and to walk right up to the edge. This freaked Virginie out and she not only ran backwards, but yelled to me to keep my distance. What a drop I have to tell you. Its a magnificent site if you like waterfalls. For me though, I was looking to experience the river rather than look at it.
My brother Andy had been here a few years before and told me about river rafting on the Zambezi. When we were up in Uganda I tried to talk him into rafting on the Nile up there and he refused, saying after his experience on the Zambezi, he had given up rafting as he was afraid he would die. I laughed it off a bit then, but I don't laugh so much now, though, I would do it again tomorrow.
I had talked Virginie into the rafting trip as she liked the trip we took once in Main while she was living there. Looking back, that was a cute little river with cute little rapids that my grandmother would have loved. The Zambezi is in a different class all its own. She was hesitant, but I talked her into it. My dad was up for anything that didn't involve sitting on a bus for an entire day, so he signed up immediately. I kept Andy's opinion to myself figuring that it wouldn't make my Dad's or Virginie's decision any easier and I was determined we'd have a family day on the river.
We woke early and were picket up at our Backpacker. They set us up with a big English breakfast and I didn't hold back. It was going to be a long day and we'd need our energy. Little did I know how true that was. We then were taken to the Vic Falls National park and we hiked down the gorge to a spot not more than a half Kilometer from the base of the falls. Just below the bridge to Zimbabwe, with people bungee jumping above us off the bridge, we got into our rafts and pushed off. The guide had gone through his safety talk and prep back at the offices. This safety talk sounded rather serious to me and I guess I had an idea of what was coming - I think V did too, but she trusted me and went along (Yes I feel bad that she trusted me, but she should know by know not to. We've been on the road for 9 months she should know better!).
The Zambezi river winds its way from Angola to the Indian Ocean (we had crossed it while going north in Mozambique). It is a massive river when it is empty, and scary when it is full during the rainy season. The rafting from the falls 20 something kilometers east is done in a massive gorge carved by the river. It is a stunning backdrop for some of the worlds biggest navigable rapids. Apparently they don't have as big a problem with lawyers here as we do in the US otherwise they wouldn't let any beginners undertake this trip. A guide told me after the trip (thank god) that it is most dangerous when it is running high and that every year they usually lose one person to the rapids. They can pull you under and keep you deep in the river for kilometers before you are brought to the surface then. He said this time of year is the best rapids and the safest (relatively).
The first set of rapids we hit that day were pretty fun. Little warm up. I was on the front of the boat with a South African guy. Behind me was my dad and V was in the back with another woman on our boat. In the front, I soon learned that you take the brunt of hard rapids, but as Virginie pointed out later, you are also the first one to get thrown out and aren't in the back seeing what fate is about to befall you and having to suffer the anxiety of knowing what is coming. Pick your poison I guess. I liked being in the front where I could come over the crest of the rapid, see the swirling water below, hear its roar and then feel myself plunge into the abyss. I have to admit that the rush before the rapids was not only excitement, there was a little fear mixed in - especially after the second rapid where I was ripped out of the boat by a wall of water - but I was able to hang on. When I was out of the boat, I saw the concern in our guides eyes as he yelled for people to get me back aboard before the next rapid. The concern seemed a little misplaced at the time - heck this was a leisurely rafting trip with a bunch of novices right? Uh Huh.
After drawing a little blood by whipping me out of the boat on the second rapid, the river decided to teach us all to fear it on the third rapid: "Stairway to Heaven" or as our Guide called it if we fell out "Highway to Hell" (they love to give these rapids dangerous, menacing names so as to agitate you before you plunge into it. Our guide, Boyd, was always bellowing, "the next rapid, Burning Hellfire, drowning pool of the ungodly death trap, is a class 5 and you better not fall out because then you have to live through 3 sets of rapids before you can get in" or something to that effect - very melodramatic guy, and I learned later that he held the record on the river for the most flips (10 in one day) - Boyd, you are a maniac). Anyway, we headed into the class 5 rapid called Stairway to heaven and before I could be scared by the size of the drop in front of me as we headed over the rapid, the boat was flipped up, and I was slammed into an oar across from me then the boat tumbled over tossing us all into the surging water. As I was underwater I think I even heard Led Zeppelin whining that unendingly painful tune. As the world was quiet and I was under water I remember thinking, hmm, this is taking a long time to get to the surface. I tried to stay calm and after what seemed like forever I was on top, tried to pull in some air, but my lungs wouldn't respond properly and I crashed into the next rapid. I was spitting out water trying to stay coherent and trying to find out where V was. After bobbing through more rapids I was able to spot the boat and luckily was picked up. I think V was picked up by another boat and slowly our boat was reunited with its lost crew as others helped us back to it. It was a humbling experience. I had a new respect for the power of the river. It was clear that flipping was not the joyride that I had anticipated and it should be avoided. V was really shaken up, but we all pulled ourselves together and got ready for the next one.
It was shortly after this fall that we saw our first crocodile relaxing on the bank of the river. It was small, a small consolation for those of us that knew we would be spending more time in the river without a raft at some point during the day. The guide said that they only hang around the calm parts of the river and that they knew where they were no problem. A short time later we saw another one slip off the bank into the river. he was bigger and this time when we pointed it out to our guide, he seemed more agitated and signaled the other guides so they knew it was there - apparently they didn't know where every one of them was... He then wanted a bunch of us to jump off a rock cliff into the river about 300meters down from the croc we'd seen. I thought I would be prudent and stay in the raft, though two guys were happy to undertake the guides request. I have 4 limbs and feel that losing one would not be in my interest. We saw about 6 of them lying about that day. They were all under 5 feet, leaving my dad to ask where the big ones were - His guess - in the water waiting...
It was a thrilling morning and on the last rapid before lunch, Boyd asked us if we wanted to take the next class 5 rapid down the hard part, intermediate or chicken run. The boys on the boat wanted to do the hard way, the girls weren't so sure. We arranged with another boat that the ladies would ride with them and we would go down the hard rapid named "star trek" - not so menacing I guess. We paddled hard into this one and as I was in the front I had a second where I was hanging out over the trough of the rapid looking down at how deep the swell was, hearing that rapid and I knew we were in for it. We had no hope of staying upright as soon as we went into that beast. The boat was flung over like a rag doll and we all tumbled out. The rapids were again as scary as before and we all fought to stay up, get air, and get back to the boat. This time though, we remembered the crocodiles - I was in a big hurry. WE scrambled aboard the boat exhausted.
The next rapid was so dangerous that they made us get out. Only the guides went down it and some just sent their rafts down by themselves. It looked more like a waterfall than a rapid to me and I was so glad they didn't have us go down it. then it was lunchtime!
After a quick lunch it was back on the river. The very first rapid was "only" a class 4 and we bailed hard on this one as our boat flipped yet again. Virginie was not a happy camper, but she found a new respect for the kayakers that watched over us as we went down the rapids as they pulled her to the boat. The scary part for her is being stuck under the boat. We always seem to end up there when the thing flips if you hang on. The next rapid was called the Mother and her 3 sisters because there was a big rapid followed by 3 smaller, but big rapids so if you fell off in the beginning it was a rough ride getting through the next without your boat. Our guide warned us that we didn't want to flip and we understood. WE watched the group before us go in - this was the group that never flipped as the guide was very cautious (and good?) and when their boat disappeared into the rapid we all said wow, they made it. We can do that too! Then we saw their boat come up almost vertically and saw all of its people tumble out into the white water and then roll back on top of them. We were all a bit speechless resigned to our fate. As we headed into the rapid, we pulled hard were bashed around but were able to ride it out. We screamed with excitement, but mostly relief that we weren't going for a swim again.
The rest of the day we only lost my dad out of the boat on a small rapid, we all think he did it for effect though. The rapids were smaller, but it was a beautiful day and we were able to enjoy the gorge more not fearing for our lives. Despite the crocs we took a couple of the rapids outside of the boat and swam around a bit. When we got to the climb out point, we were greeted by a clime out of the gorge. We had to climb some 500 feet out from the river to the top of the gorge where a bus was waiting. Part of the climb was on these ladders made of tree limbs. It was a fitting end for such a grueling, scary ride. There was cold beer at the top though, so all was good! V and my dad immediately said that if they never went rafting again, that would be just fine with them. They enjoyed it, but seem to think their careers in the white water are over. They weren't amused when I then shared Andy's experiences with them. They were however glad they did it.
