Messing about on the river

After three weeks without leaving Ingwavuma, we were suffering from mild cabin fever/ Mosvold malade. In search of an antidote, and a rubbery boat, on Friday we set off for Swaziland to go white water rafting.

The enthusiasm for another white water experience was slightly one sided. Mary had very understandable apprehensions about the plan. Unfortunately her highly reasonable concerns were met with the idiotic logic of her husband.
M, ‘I’m worried about dislocating my shoulder.’
H, ‘Don’t be, you were fine going down the Zambezi.’
M, ‘But I took a big risk then.’
H, ‘All life is about risk taking.’
M, ‘Thank you, Evil Knevil.’
H, ‘Besides, you are just as likely to crack your head on a rock or get trapped under water. No need to worry especially about a dislocation. Indeed it might help to keep your mind off worse eventualities.’
M, ‘Yes, very comforting.’

Two things turned out to make rafting the Ushutu River more daunting than the Zambezi. The first was the time of year. Rafting during the rainy season is much more hairy. There are heavy rains most days at the moment. Rivers are bursting. Secondly, instead of big 8-10 men rafts, as on the Zambezi, we would be in cosy two person vessels. The two person capacity for the rafts changed things dramatically. And Mary was quick to spot the increased danger.
M, ‘Do you remember when we were last in a vessel together.’
H, ‘Remind me.’
M, ‘With Adam and Trish at the cottage.’
H, ‘Um. Yes.’
M, ‘Do you remember that we were both in that Kayak. On a very still day. And we capsized. After 30 seconds. And Adam had to replace you.’
H, ‘Focus on the positives. I am wiser now.’

Despite the apprehensions of my first mate, we had a terrific morning on the river. With navigator Mary in front barking orders and captain (a complete misnomer) Henry paddling hard behind, we made it to lunch without any big dramas. The clear blue sky above created a great in raft atmosphere. And by lunchtime I was feeling confident enough to begin praising myself on my insistence on our choice of adventure.

In full peacock mode, I gave little thought to the possibility that the afternoon might be tougher. How quickly I regretted this.

The first section of the river after lunch required us to keep to the right. We were warned not to go too far right, to avoid the black rock with nasty whirlpool beneath. We could go to left or right of a big tree. Off went both the guides to show us our options. Both looked fine. Unfortunately I failed to recognise the importance of being higher up stream to attempt to get to the left of the tree. I also forgot to discuss the options with my navigator. Setting off for our run, I aimed left of the tree. Paddling hard we got half way across. Then, the first mate began shouting that we weren’t going to make it round. And I panicked. Like the batsman in the middle of the wicket trying to take a dodgy single, I began frantically to back paddle. And before Mary could say, ‘You idiot, now we are stuck on the tree’, we were stuck among the branches. Raft against tree, water pushing hard against one side of the boat. Out went the two crew and off down the river.

Eventually we were both picked up by the two guides. And they were livid. For our boat was now stuck several hundred metres up stream. (This was really their fault as one of them should have stayed at the back of the group.) Off they went to get it leaving an horrifically long time for team Toulson to engage in a debrief. Attempting to defuse the situation I immediately declared 150% responsibility. Sadly, this had already been taken for granted by the Navigator. She instead was keen on examining the preventability of the outcome. She was less keen to focus on the positives – both alive and no dislocated shoulder.

Eventually our boat was rescued. But it needn’t have been. For our afternoon was mainly spent out of the boat. Fortunately, for me, all the other boats were capsizing with equal frequency. The volume of water meant sections of the river were ferocious. Indeed, on one section all the crews were in the water.

Thankfully, we all made it to the end of the day. And without any injuries. Overall the day was sensational. But, with slipped disc and weak shoulders, I think it may also mark our honourable retirement from the white water scene. For the river God was truly cheated and I fear giving him any chance for revenge. I don’t think Mary will argue.