White Water Rafting the Zambizi River – Zimbabwe

 It was a perfect day – warm sunshine, blue skies – about 25-30 of us were gathered for the instructions before we hiked down to the river. Off we marched, discovering about half-way down, that there was another 1/2 mile to go … yep … a mile hike down, a mile hike up. No problemo. At the bottom of the mountain, we divided into our rubber rafts, practiced working as a team in the eddies, before paddling out into the main stream … which picked up speed considerably.

Of course, my raft was very accomplished, we negotiated each rapid (and there are many rapids in  that  four hour stint on the Zambizi) with aplomb. What made it a touch more scary were the crocodiles on the banks of the river, which seemed to narrow, the more crocs I saw. That was another tidbit of information left out by the guides. (I remembered the waiver I had signed in ignorance just minutes ago.)

Our guide slowed our raft, so we could plan our maneuvers for the next big rapid coming up. He explained we could slide down either side of the river (even closer to the crocs), and that way would be a Class 3. If we elected to go down the gut of the river, that would be a Class 5 (Class 6 is one you are required to portage – just to give you a feel for the challenge.) Being a little cocky (this was my 10th river to raft), and since we were the only raft that had stayed upright, we elected to go for it – high-fived our paddles in the air – and shot out into the middle, eager to conquer the river and prove our superiority over the other rafts.

The Zambizi decided to make an example of our arrogance and promptly tossed us all in the air, flinging each of us in different directions. The DVD of that rapid is quite explicit about who's who in terms of power. Now chastened, I realized that I was IN the river … remembering the crocs lined up on the sand, hoping they weren't hungry. Not good. A guide in a kayak, looking like a water-centaur, paddled up to me, told me to tag onto his kayak, and he'd take me to the side. I looked him square in the eyes and said, as clearly and distinctly as possible, "No, take me to a raft." He didn't even raise an eyebrow; he just towed me out to a raft, saw me hauled over the side, and left to rescue someone else … none of which he towed to the side of the river. Did he seriously believe I hadn't noticed the crocs? I wasn't even blonde back then!

Yes, the Wild and Wooly Zambizi lived up to its reputation. It is visually stunning, auditorially commanding, kinaesthetically exhilerating … and just plain dang fun. It demands respect, or it will have its pound of flesh (or 250 pounds of flesh). A couple of months before, a 250 lb man was turfed out of his raft and never seen again.

PS The Zambizi river is so powerful, that it runs generators that light the entire city of Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe.