Rafting on the Zambezi. An adrenaline rush!

 

 

August 15, 2008

A constant rumble grows louder and louder as we slowly approach the massive gorge aboard a raft.

A sharp crack in the plateau, as clean as a knife's edge, forms the canyon with its towering, sheer walls.

Inside, a persistent mist creates a canvas where iridescent rainbows are painted. The artist of this masterpiece? Once again, it’s Mother Nature.

More specifically, it’s the Zambezi River, whose waters plummet over 150 meters down a ridge stretching more than a kilometer and a half.

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

A few days ago, we admired them from above, both from the Zambian and Zimbabwean sides. Then, with an even broader view, we saw them from the sky during a helicopter ride.

They are truly spectacular, appearing grandiose from every perspective.

But now, seeing them from below, the sheer power of the thundering cascades impresses me even more.

They make me feel small—very small—compared to the vastness of this scene.

My fellow adventurers and I have taken our places on the raft that will carry us down the Zambezi today.

Over a distance of about 24 kilometers, we’ll tackle 23 rapids rated between Class IV and VI. The latter is the highest difficulty level in this sport, defined as “uncontrollable.”

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

Our instructors prepared us with an extensive briefing packed with theoretical knowledge. Then, they equipped us with wetsuits, life jackets, helmets, and paddles.

During the descent, every crew member plays an active role. Each of us must contribute, following the precise commands given by the guide on the raft.

“Flip over” is a term that immediately stuck in my mind. It refers to the raft capsizing—something that’s not uncommon here. In fact, we’ve been warned it might happen multiple times during the descent.

Now, it’s time to practice.

We’re just downstream from the falls, on a calm, flat stretch of water where the river seems to take a break after its dramatic plunge, as if pausing before resuming its race to the ocean.

Here, we quickly respond to our guide’s commands, putting into practice what we learned during the briefing.

Finally, we’re asked to jump into the water to simulate a fall and practice climbing back onto the raft.

It’s the last day of our three-week tour in Botswana, and each group member had this time to decide whether or not to take on the challenging Zambezi rafting adventure.

After careful consideration and many discussions, everyone decided to join. Despite all the information we’ve gathered, we’re still somewhat unaware of what lies ahead on one of the world’s most demanding rafting routes.

But the decision is made.

We’re ready to go, and there’s no turning back now.

The Zambezi forms the border between Zambia and Zimbabwe, and before reaching the Indian Ocean, it also flows through Mozambique. During the rafting trip, we’ll get to admire the shores of two different African countries, surrounded by breathtaking natural landscapes.

We start paddling to set the raft in motion, steering it toward the river’s descent.

The beginning is relatively smooth. But as the guide explains the first rapid we’ll encounter, we start gaining speed, sliding faster and faster toward the churning waters.

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

As we try to control it with our paddles, I feel like I’m in a rodeo, riding a wild bull determined to throw off its unwanted cowboy.

Sitting on the raft’s edge, we do our best—despite our inexperience—to follow the instructions, responding with increasing strength to the water’s force.

Three, two, one… and we hear the command to stop paddling.

We crouch down in the raft, holding on tightly to the safety ropes.

We’re now inside the first rapid.

In just seconds, we’re slammed into a wall of water that immediately turns into a vortex, spinning the raft in circles. Control is gone, and as we’re engulfed by foaming waves, we’re repeatedly tossed and lifted.

Though it lasts only a few seconds, it feels like an eternity.

As the whirlpool releases its grip on our small raft, we start paddling again.

Back in our seats, we do a headcount. The crew is all here. Despite being soaked to the bone, we’ve made it through the rapid without anyone falling out.

The rapid we just survived is called “Against the Wall,” and now we understand why.

The rapids that follow have similarly evocative names, as if warning unsuspecting adventurers of the challenges ahead.

With adrenaline pumping and some experience gained from the first test, we’re fired up to tackle the next rapids.

Having successfully navigated a Class IV rapid, we’re energized and ready to continue fearlessly.

After making it through “The Morning Glory,” we approach the next rapid.

On the calm waters leading up to it, the guide gives us detailed instructions.

This one, he says, is a Class V rapid—very steep, with powerful waves and several massive holes, one of which is ominously called “The Catcher’s Mitt.” Referring to baseball terminology, it’s a whirlpool that will inevitably trap anyone caught in its grip.

He also points out the positions of protruding rocks and warns us to avoid them by swimming clear if we fall in.

Finally, he reveals the rapid’s name: “Stairway to Heaven.”

“The Stairway to Heaven?” I wonder what it means.

But there’s no time to dwell on the name.

The water grows more turbulent and frothy as we approach.

The raft picks up speed, bucking wildly as chaotic waves strike it with increasing force.

We paddle hard, trying to steer the raft in the right direction.

But who knows if we’ve entered the rapid properly?

“Probably not,” I think.

A series of ever-larger waves slams us into the water’s relentless fury.

Returning to the rodeo metaphor, the raft bucks and twists, throwing many of us into the river—including me—while our skilled guide manages to keep it from capsizing.

I find myself at the mercy of the churning waters.

Now I’m supposed to remember the instructions we received before entering the rapid.

I should know where the rocks are and swim in the right direction to avoid them.

But as I’m tossed about in the frothy, chaotic currents—surrounded by bubbles like I’m in a giant carbonated pool, with visibility near zero—I can’t tell my left from my right or up from down.

Thankfully, after a few long seconds, I feel a hand grab me and pull me up with force.

“Is it the hand of God?”

No, it’s one of the many “rescuers” in kayaks who accompany us throughout the rafting adventure.

I grab the first rope I can find and climb back onto the raft.

To my amazement, I’m still holding my paddle, though it’s now bent like a bow. How it got that way, I have no idea.

The adrenaline now coursing through me outpaces even the river’s wild currents, mixing fear and exhilaration in equal measure.

While falling in is something we all try to avoid, it also turns out to be the most fun part of the experience.

In fact, I suspect that during one of the later rapids, the guide deliberately causes a “flip over,” overturning the entire raft and sending us all plunging into the churning water.

The evocative names of the rapids—like “Jaws of Death,” “Three Ugly Sisters,” “Washing Machine,” “Terminators,” “Oblivion,” and many more—mark one thrilling challenge after another, each bringing a fresh rush of adrenaline.

Between rapids, we enjoy quieter stretches, taking in the stunning natural scenery around us.

The canyon’s steep basalt walls are home to diverse birdlife, and small crocodiles rest in the calm waters, though they pose little threat to humans.

Our long day on the Zambezi ends with a gentle, low-grade rapid aptly named “Thank God I’m Safe.”

We’re grateful not just to God for bringing us through safely but also to the flawless organization—something you might not expect to find in the heart of Africa.

Our excitement is sky-high, and no one regrets their decision to join. Instead, the question on everyone’s lips is, “When can we do this again?”

Sadly, we don’t have time for another rafting adventure. This incredible journey through Botswana ends today, and tomorrow, we head home.

© Aldo Lardizzone 2020

CREATIVE COMMONS