Victoria Falls and Rafting the Zambezi

Posted by Marci on Dec 2, 2010 in | 0 comments

“Chicken’s way or sudden death?” the rafting guide asked as we headed for a class V rapid.

“Sudden death,” the two lead paddlers yelled.

We stood with our paddles in the air waving to the photographer on the rocks above us. I looked into the mouth of the rapid; A huge hole opened below us and frothing water churned in a massive wave. “Get down and hold tight,” the guide yelled over the thunder of water.

I sat down and grabbed the rope as the boat dropped more than ten feet. The wave crashed against us as the guide tried to punch our raft through the wall of water. More waves sucked from the sides and we were pulled under, the boat now over our heads. I held the rope tight in my left hand as the force of the river tried to pull my paddle from my right. Bubbles churned like a Jacuzzi around my body as I felt strong hands grab my life vest and pull me to onto the flipped boat.

“Hold on tight,” the guide yelled, “I’m going to right the raft before we hit the next major hole.” He yanked his rope, and once again I was submersed in bubbling darkness. The guide pulled me into safety in time to smash into the next wave. This time I stayed in the boat as we splashed through the end of the rapid.

After miles of intensity, the rapids reduced in size to class II and III’s.

“So you kayak?” the blonde safety kayaker asked.

“I just learned a few weeks ago,” I said.

“Then you’re getting in my boat.” He jumped out of his tiny whitewater kayak, took off his life jacket, and pulled it over my head.

I sat in the kayak, his paddle in my hand, wondering if I was crazy. I felt small in his equipment, all of which was too big for me, and decided I was too scared. I turned to get out, but then changed my mind. There were rafts to rescue me and how many people had the chance to kayak the Zambezi.

I followed the leader into the mouth of the wave repeating my lessons in my head: never stop paddling, show the current your butt, romance the stone. I punched through the first four waves, but the fifth proved too much. The side waves turned me and then pulled me under. I pushed my paddle to the surface and swung it back, pushing my chin to my shoulder and I rolled up.

I followed my guide into the next rapid, this one much larger. My skills were no match. I paddled as hard as I could up the large wave until I flipped. This time my roll wasn’t strong enough, and I swam. But I can still say I kayaked the Mighty Zambezi.