Get down hold on

I bend over the raft to wet my hands, a little habit I have developed though the years, before dropping into the big stuff. The bigger the rapid the bigger the splash, later in the day I would be taking a small shower but for now a splash would do.

Its Silverback, one of my all time favorite rapids, for those of you who don’t know it, there is a lot of water splashing, especially through the middle and that is exactly were I plan an taking Gangster . It’s a gamble, his first time on a real river and if he falls out here, which is likely and doesn’t like it which is possible, its going to be pretty hard getting him back on the river. We are not here for haircuts though and its time to test the young mans mettle. Get down hold on. The first wave hits us like a Nigerian bouncer and sends Gangster flying, jean clad legs spread-eagle over curly head. He is a tough little bugger and to his credit he still has a hand on the raft. Unknown to him, things are about to step up another level. Smack in the middle of our now inevitable journey lays the real Silverback, wave one was just a pretender.

For me it’s all on auto pilot, I see his facial expression, its says” I don’t know what’s happening but I think its bad” I feel a little bit bad for him as I square the raft into the inevitable ass kicking he is about to receive. It’s a rough ride to loose your cherry on but he should live.

As the raft is swallowed, he is unceremoniously ripped of the side, its basic math’s from there on. He pops up, but mostly down for 50meters before being washed into a safety kayaker, like a bug and a windscreen. It’s a man size swim and dragging him back in the boat I am ready to play a jedi mind trick I learned back in the US of A, A Rebel yell and a high five before they get there focus back and you can convince a terrified client that they actually enjoyed the experience. It’s not needed, he gets back in the boat with precisely the right smile I was hoping for, the corners of his mount inches from terror but still pointing in the right direction.

Midday, on the flat pool after lunch, the world is moving like its stuck in quicksand and to hot to care about it. Soft Scandinavian skin sizzling in the heat, smarter people would be hiding in the shade, its all just about perfect. As I reach into my dry bag for one of the cheap cigarettes I have been terrorizing my lungs with, my phone rings. Imgen... ok nobody panic, so what if there is reception on the Nile, I calmly and more bemused than anything, press green on the little buzzing box. “ Hi Thomas”. From there the conversation progresses to “mmmhhhh” “that’s not so good” “bugger” “ Ok get back to me when you know more” “ There has to be a way around this”

Thomas has been attending Sudanese beurocracy 101 at the embassy. It’s a fast lesson for a slow course. Seeing their shock and lack of comprehension at someone wanting to go to Sudan as a tourist, he changed his angle of attack to business visa. A safer path with more establishes guidelines, which lead him to the next little bombshell they had forgotten to mention a month ago on the phone. Moslems have no sense of humor. Apparently the Sudanese were still upset about the cartoon of Muhammad printed in a Danish newspaper and have banned all Danish people from coming to Sudan. Thomas must be the first Danish national to actually care.

I have kept a space on the team open just incase I found someone loitering around Jinja that might add value to the expedition. It being a magnate for people who would drop everything for a bit of adventure, I figured the chances were good.

If Thomas couldn’t make it we were starting to look a bit thin on members. Across from me Scottish Chris, rowing us across the flats, was just telling me how much he would like to go on a mission like this. Being a man who only believes in coincidence when it suits me, I offer him a spot right there. Why not? He owns a video and stills camera, something we lack, and from what I hear he is not afraid to use them. Sweet. More importantly he possesses the one element which I rate above all else on an expedition, enthusiasm. Welcome to the team Christopher Lee you Scottish c…

“Its been a great day, any responsible adult would be calling it quits right now” but I am not really listening.

Instead of following the other rafts to river right I am rowing my empty raft in the opposite direction. The voice doesn’t seem to mind being ignored; we have played this game a hundred times on this very section of the river. “ What are you trying to prove?” still no answer. Unperturbed it continues to state its case “ You are over weight, unfit and rusty… ..oh and did I mention you haven’t seen Itanda for 18months” bla bla bla. “ …. to many cigarettes, you wont last 10 seconds without air… bla bla bla..”

Its no use getting into an argument with yourself, especially when you know your right. So I just keep leaning on the oars for no good reason until I am right above the rapid that the fuss is about. The waters roar has now completely invaded my head and rightly so, over the next 2 minutes it will be the only thing that will matter in my world.

Dragging my eyes from the roaring horizon line I scan the tree line above me. I am looking for a sign, I am looking for confidence. A massive fish eagle sitting on it throne formed by jungle vines, in the tallest tree, is staring back at me. Its white crown marking it as royalty, surely as the confidence with which its gazes down on the world. I am pleased to see it, it’s always been my totem, a silly superstition, but when you’re scared, you take what you can get.

Once I dunk the helmet filled with water over my head, the voice is silent, there is no way but down from here, for the greater good it needs to stop distracting me, and he knows it.

Once in the thick of it, it’s just like old times. It moves in slow motion, yet over to quickly. You either make this rapid look easy or painful, today it’s easy. I let go of the thick wooden oars, and float the run out. The sun has turned to the dark side, softening, to let light and shade achieve harmony in color, the roar of the water is still blocking out the world, the river is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen and I would not trade my life for anyone’s. “Older, fatter, its all true but you can kiss my ass, I haven’t peaked yet” I grin broadly at no-one as I cross into the calm water below.