Rafting on the Zambezi. An adrenaline rush!

 

15 August 2008

 

 A relentless thunderous roar grows louder as we slowly approach the towering gorge aboard a raft.

A split in the plateau, as clean as a knife's cut, forms a canyon with sheer, high walls.

Within it, a persistent mist acts as a canvas on which vivid iridescent rainbows are painted.

The artist responsible for this masterpiece is once again Nature.

More precisely, it’s the Zambezi River, whose waters plunge from over 150 metres down a ledge stretching more than one and a half kilometres.

These are the famous Victoria Falls, ranked among the most majestic on the planet.

In recent days, we’ve already seen them from above, both from the Zambian and Zimbabwean sides. Additionally, we observed them from the sky, enjoying an even broader perspective via a helicopter flight.

They are truly spectacular, appearing grand from every angle.

But now, seeing them from below, the magnificence of the cascading waters overwhelms me even more.

They make me feel small, very small, in comparison to the vastness of the scene.

 

With my adventure companions, we’ve already taken our places on the raft with which we’ll navigate the Zambezi today.

Over a distance of roughly 24 kilometres, we’ll face 23 rapids classified between the fourth and sixth levels.

The latter is the highest level of difficulty established for this activity and is defined as “uncontrollable.”

Navigating the Zambezi is described as extremely challenging, with long, violent rapids, steep gradients, and significant drops.

Our instructors prepared us for rafting with a thorough briefing packed with theoretical information, then equipped us with wetsuits, life jackets, helmets, and paddles.

During the river descent, each crew member will actively contribute, following precise instructions issued by the guide on the raft.

“Flip over” is a term that immediately stuck in my mind, used to describe the overturning of the raft.

This is not a remote possibility, so one must expect it to happen more than once during the river descent.

 

Now it’s time for practice.

We are just past the falls, in a wide expanse of water where the river is relatively calm and flat.

After the powerful drop from the cliff, it’s as though the waters want to take a break before resuming their fast-paced journey to the ocean.

To practise, we promptly execute the commands given by the guide, putting into action what was explained theoretically during the briefing.

Lastly, we’re invited to jump into the water to simulate a fall and the subsequent climb back onto the raft.

 

It’s the last day of our three-week tour in Botswana, and each group member has had this time frame to decide independently whether to tackle the arduous navigation of the Zambezi.

After careful evaluations, often discussing it among ourselves, everyone decided to join the rafting experience.

Despite all the information we’ve gathered, we’re still somewhat unaware of what awaits us in tackling one of the most challenging rafting adventures in the world.

But it’s settled now!

We’re ready to go, and from this moment, there’s no turning back.

 

The Zambezi forms the border between Zambia and Zimbabwe, and before reaching the Indian Ocean, it also flows through Mozambique.

Thus, during rafting, we’ll admire the shores of two different African countries, marked by stunning natural landscapes.

 

We begin paddling to give momentum to the raft, steering it towards the river descent.

The start is fairly gentle. But as the guide describes the first rapid we’ll encounter, we begin to gain speed, sliding ever faster towards the churning waters.

The raft begins to take on a life of its own.

While we try, through sheer arm strength, to control it as best we can, the impression I have is of participating in a rodeo, straddling a wild bull doing everything to throw off its unwanted rider.

Sitting on the raft’s edge, we try our best, despite our inexperience, to follow the received instructions, responding with increasing force to the water’s onslaught.

Three, two, one... and the command to stop paddling comes.

We crouch down on the raft floor, gripping the support ropes as tightly as possible.

We’re in the first rapid.

In a matter of seconds, we’re hurled against a wall of water that quickly transforms into a vortex, spinning the raft on its axis.

Control is lost, and amidst the frothy waves, we are repeatedly submerged and propelled upwards.

It all lasts just seconds, though it feels like an eternity.

As the water’s turbulence gradually releases its grip on our small craft, we resume paddling.

Returning to a seated position, we check to see how many of us are still on board.

The crew is intact, and though soaking wet, we’ve passed the rapid without anyone falling into the water.

“Against the Wall” is the name of the rapid we just overcame, and only now do we understand why it was named so.

The subsequent rapids also have evocative names, as if to warn the unwary navigator of what lies ahead.

With adrenaline coursing through our veins and the experience gained from the first challenge, we are energised to tackle the next rapids.

After all, having successfully navigated a fourth-level rapid fills us with confidence to continue fearlessly down the river.

Having also made it through “The Morning Glory” intact, we now approach another rapid.

While gliding through the relatively calm waters leading up to it, the guide once again gives us precise instructions for this new passage.

He tells us the rapid is of the fifth level; it is very steep, with powerful waves and several large holes, one of which is known as the “catcher’s mitt.”

Borrowed from baseball terminology, this refers to a vortex that will inevitably trap anyone caught in it.

The instructions also include behaviour to follow in case we fall into the water.

Pointing out the position of some protruding rocks, we are advised to swim away from them.

To conclude the briefing, the guide tells us the rapid’s name: “Stairway to Heaven.”

– The Stairway to Heaven? – I wonder what this name could possibly mean.

But by now, we are very close to the rapid, and there’s no time to search for answers to the questions running through my mind.

The waters again grow increasingly turbulent and frothy.

The raft picks up speed and bucks wildly as the chaotic waves strike it more forcefully and unpredictably.

All our efforts while paddling are focused on steering the raft in the right direction.

Who knows if we have truly entered the rapid in the optimal way.

– Probably not! –

A series of increasingly towering waves thrust us once more against the full force of the water.

Returning to the rodeo metaphor, the raft arches its back and then, as though testing its strength and supremacy, kicks, throwing off most of the crew.

This time, many of us, myself included, end up in the water, while the skilled guide masterfully controls the raft, preventing it from overturning.

I find myself at the mercy of the water’s swirling chaos.

At this point, I should follow the instructions received before entering the rapid.

I should remember the location of the protruding rocks and the direction to swim to avoid them.

The problem is that as I spin uncontrollably in the midst of the milky, foamy currents, surrounded by countless bubbles as though immersed in a carbonated bath, with visibility practically reduced to zero, I cannot distinguish right from left or even up from down.

Fortunately, after just a few seconds – which once again feel interminable – I feel a hand grasping me and pulling me up with force.

– Is it the hand of God? –

No, it’s the hand of one of the many “rescuers” who follow us in kayaks throughout the rafting activity.

I cling to the first rope I find and climb back onto the raft.

To my surprise, I am still holding my paddle, having managed not to let it go the entire time I was tumbling in the currents.

To my amazement, the paddle is bent like an archery bow. But I have no idea how it managed to bend that way.

The adrenaline now flows through my body even more than the rushing waters, shaking up a mix of contrasting emotions, such as fear and exhilaration.

During rafting, everyone does their best not to fall into the water, but at the same time, ending up in the waves can be the most thrilling part of the activity.

It’s for this very reason that, in my opinion, during one of the subsequent rapids, the guide deliberately provokes a “flip over,” causing the raft to overturn completely.

Inevitably, we are all swallowed and tumbled by the frothy waves and whirlpools the Zambezi gleefully creates.

 

The rapids with evocative names, such as “Jaws of Death,” “Three Ugly Sisters,” “Washing Machine,” “Terminators,” “Oblivion,” and many more, follow one after another, each time delivering a fresh surge of adrenaline.

Between one rapid and the next, however, there are stretches of relatively calm navigation, allowing us to enjoy the natural spectacle surrounding us.

The steep basalt walls of the canyon flanking the river are home to a diverse array of birdlife.

Small crocodiles linger in the calm waters but pose no serious threat to humans.

The long day on the Zambezi ends with a tranquil, low-grade rapid named “Thanks God I’m Safe.”

We thank not only God for bringing us here safe and sound but also the flawless organisation, which one might not expect to find in the heart of black Africa.

The enthusiasm among all of us is sky-high, and no one regrets their decision. On the contrary, the most frequently asked question is, – When can we do it again? –

Unfortunately, we don’t have time to plan another rafting experience because this splendid trip to Botswana ends today, and tomorrow we return home.

© Aldo Lardizzone 2020

CREATIVE COMMONS