The wake-up call
A seemingly insignificant ripple made its way down the raft before gently, and unexpectedly, flicking me into the water. I couldn’t believe it – the first rapid of the day and I was bobbing along in the current before we’d even reached the actual whitewater.

I felt irritated and embarrassed, but prepared myself for what was to come by adopting ‘the position’ – legs straight, arms out, head back. I even managed a little smile for my friend Daniel and our Zimbabwean guide Petiri before they drifted out of view.

A rush of whitewater and ‘the position’ was no more. Flung into the belly of the rapids, I was disorientated and spent the next 30 seconds (although it felt longer) ‘snorkelling’ for air. It was an uncomfortable experience, but thankfully my lifejacket kept pushing me to the surface, and before long I was helped back to the relative safety of my raft by one of the following safety kayakers.

This tale of my rude introduction to the Zambezi is certainly not meant to put you off from attempting your own whitewater adventure. After all, my entire experience in (and out of) the raft represented possibly the most exhilarating and unforgettable few hours of my life. Rather, the start of my story was designed for one very important purpose – to be a poignant reminder about the need to respect this great river. I was too relaxed, too cocky.

My little ‘mishap’ at the first rapid shook me out of my reverie and indeed heightened my senses for the adventure to come, and for that I am truly grateful.

The build up
The day began in the still waters found slightly downstream from the Falls. With the muffled din of ‘The Smoke That Thunders’ in the background, we practised our paddling drills and went through the safety briefing, learning about ‘the position’ and all.

We were at Victoria Falls in the prime rafting season, which runs from August to January – it’s when the Zambezi is at its lowest and wildest. We had a good mix of people in our crew of nine. Besides Petiri, Daniel and me, there were young American newlyweds, an older Dutch couple, a lone South African and an experienced Japanese kayaker who’d tested his skills on the Zambezi by kayak and raft many times before.

While we’d ‘bravely’ chosen to carry our own paddle for the day, meaning that we’d have to follow Petiri’s commands to steer a safe course through the rapids, the people in the other two rafts had chosen a seemingly safer or, as I preferred (remember, I was still cocky at this stage), more boring option. They were simply passengers, and their arms had but one job – to hold on. It was their guide, with the aid of two giant oars, who would manoeuvre their raft through the rapids.

My excitement grew as Petiri barked orders at us and emphasised the need to react as quickly as possible to his instructions if we wanted to avoid getting into trouble. And then we were off, gliding away from the Falls…

The rapids
Each rapid or set of rapids has a name, and Morning Glory, the first of the day and scene of my early ‘snorkelling’ expedition, has a Grade 4/5 classification depending on the conditions. Stairway to Heaven, shortly after, is Grade 5, so I had little time to compose myself.

“Stay right, stay right!” shouted Petiri as we barrelled our way over an extremely steep drop, waves looping over and around us and into the raft. I felt a surge of fear and adrenaline, but it was over in seconds and I looked around to see that everyone was still on board. I found myself whooping along in delight, feeling both exhilarated and relieved. Paddles were raised high in the air and slapped together – now the adventure had begun.

A short Grade 4 rapid followed, named the Devil’s Toilet Bowl thanks to the presence of a small whirlpool. As you have probably guessed, the rapids weren’t given their names by indigenous peoples.

By now I was seriously pumped up, but as we drifted in the calm waters after Devil’s Toilet Bowl, Petiri told us to prepare for possibly our greatest challenge of the day – Gulliver’s Travels. Representing almost a kilometre’s worth of Grade 5 rapid, it is the longest run on the river, and requires a carefully plotted course. We listened intently as we were given our instructions.

As we battled along this watery rollercoaster and struggled to change direction, a blur of orange crossed my line of sight. Before I even realised that the flash of colour in the water was a lifejacket on an ejected member of one of the other boats, Petiri was on his feet, hurling a safety rope with unerring accuracy towards the man. Oblivious to the line floating just inches from his head, the ‘swimmer’ managed to maintain ‘the position’ with relative ease and emerged from the whitewater in high spirits after his ‘Zambezi baptism’.

As I fought hard against the current, plunging my paddle into the foaming water of Midnight Diner, our fifth rapid of the day, I felt I was starting to get a handle on the technique required to stay in the raft. I’d been told to use my paddle in the water as a counterbalance, which of course made complete sense, but it required me to overcome my fear of leaning out over the frothing river.

I would have to wait a short while to test my blossoming skills though, as Commercial Suicide loomed. This unfortunately meant a trip to the riverbank and a walk around the Zambezi’s most infamous rapid. I say unfortunately, but even with my newfound confidence I didn’t fancy tackling this Grade 5/6 rapid. From the bank, I gasped in unison with my fellow rafters as a couple of the kayakers found their way down the only passable channel amid the crashing chaos. The ironically named Gnashing Jaws of Death completed the morning’s rapids before we broke for a much-needed lunch.

It’s worth pointing out at this stage that this experience isn’t all about adrenaline. The stretches of river between the rapids are serene and breathtaking in equal measure. As the hum of whitewater disappears after one rapid, it can be a long time before you hear the next approaching. These moments offer up the opportunity to get to know your fellow rafters, to build the camaraderie, and to spot the local wildlife.

Replenished, we soon tackled our first big challenge of the afternoon – Overland Truck Eater. Its infamous whirlpool assured our attention, and we all paddled
hard to avoid it.
 

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Three Sisters (also known as Three Little Pigs) presented few problems for our now more confident crew, and The Mother, a series of Grade 4/5 dips and waves, was navigated with more than a hint of bravado. The unimaginatively named Rapid 14 was the only outright Grade 3 rapid of the day, after which there remained only four more to overcome.

The Washing Machine was great fun, mainly because we avoided the dangerous central channel, and The Terminators I and II rapid was bumpy, bouncy and hugely enjoyable. The penultimate, Double Trouble, then lived up to its alternative billing as ‘The Bitch’ when it pulled two of our crew members into its clutches.

And then there was one. But what a one! The most famous rapid on the river, Oblivion comprises three waves, the third of which manages to flip more rafts than any other in the world. As we approached it, I steeled myself for one last big effort, and readied my paddle for battle.

We soared over the first wave before plunging violently into a vast chasm in the river. The raft seemed to buckle and two or three people were flung off the right-hand side. Seconds later we were rising up again, but this time there was no other side to the wave. We were surfing! It was far from a smooth ride though as we were being bounced this way and that like a rodeo rider on a particularly agitated bull.

The next thing I knew I was in midair. I braced myself for another dip but, astonishingly, all I felt was the firm cushion of rubber as I landed back in the raft. I eventually managed to stand up, by which time Oblivion had released us from its grasp. I raised my paddle, ready with an ear-splitting cry of joy, but quickly realised that I was one of only three left on board.

An official photographer had positioned himself on the riverbank by Oblivion and a couple of days later I purchased one of his images. It showed Petiri and the Japanese guy at the stern of the raft, their paddles slicing into the water, and the bow so high out of the water that it was about level with the tops of their heads. And there I was, still on board but flat on my back and with my feet in the air – in other words, completely helpless!

I’d whitewater rafted in Peru and Slovakia prior to my Zimbabwean excursion, and to say those experiences even came close to matching the thrill of the Zambezi would be seriously inaccurate.

Kayakers and rafters come from all over the world to test themselves truly against the Zambezi. They walk around Victoria Falls with a certain swagger and grace the local bars every evening, recounting tales of their thrills and spills in the foam. And after my brief encounter with this beast of a river, I was only too happy to join them for a drink.

Rating Rapids
Grade 1:    Easy. Waves small; passages clear; no serious obstacles.
Grade 2:    Medium. Rapids of moderate difficulty with passages clear.
Grade 3:    Difficult. Waves numerous, high, irregular; rocks; eddies; rapids with passages clear though narrow.
Grade 4:    Very difficult. Long rapids; waves high, irregular; dangerous rocks; boiling eddies; powerful and precise manoeuvring required. Demands expert boatman and excellent boat and good quality equipment.
Grade 5:    Extremely difficult. Long and violent rapids, following each other almost without interruption; riverbed extremely obstructed; big drops; violent current; very steep gradient.
Grade 6:     Unraftable.