Zambezi Swimming Team

The second full day we were in Livingstone, we went white water rafting on the Zambezi River. This could be the story of how I almost drowned. Or the story of how I swam with crocodiles unaware. Or of how what I considered to be my unwavering courage pretty much failed me in the face of towering waves. This post is kind of a rambling tale of all the above.

Fair warning: this post has so many pictures.

Anyways. So we got a rafting team together that consisted of the four of us BYU students (Adam, Renee, Whitney, and myself), Hannah (a girl from the states who had just graduated from Stanford), and Neil and Sarah (a funny dude from Ireland and his girlfriend). We had all met each other at Jolly Boys, and we were all feeling pretty gung ho about the whole upcoming experience. We'd met this guy from South Africa who was staying in our dorm and who had done the rapids the day prior. He told us to do the hardest rapids when they gave us a choice if we wanted to have fun. I thought "no duh."

So there we were. Sitting in the white water rafting orientation, feeling super brave and hardcore and ready  to take on the world. Little did I know that the Zambezi was about to own us.

Team Malvin ftw!
So happy and naive.
From left to right: Neil, Sarah, Renee, Malvin, Whitney, me, Hannah, and Adam.

We started off a little before Rapid 7. The water was still too high to start at Rapid 1 (which is basically at the foot of Victoria Falls). So we got to Rapid 7, and it was a little bumpy, but we made it through that first rapid just fine. In fact, I thought, "If this is all there is to it, this might even get a little boring."

Look, mom! Easy peasy.

Then we got to Rapid 8, known as "The Midnight Diner."

Malvin said, "You've got three options here: A (which is the easiest--Class I), B (which is medium difficulty--Class III), and C (which is right through the middle, and the most intense--Class V, with a bunch of Class IV rapids following it).

We all said "C" because we are all young, foolhardy adults and saying anything but C would be ridiculous and embarrassing. We started paddling hard and I began to feel a little nervous.

This is what happened (because pictures are worth a thousand words, right?):

Why does this upcoming rapid look so different than the last rapid?
And what does this mean for my future happiness and well-being?

Is this really--this is really happening. Freaking freakity freak.
Paddle, paddle, must keep paddling. Must. Keep. Paddling.

As a point of reference, our raft is 16 feet long.
Was I scared? There are no words.

Maybe we'll make it. Maybe.

That moment where the god of the sea starts laughing at you.

Is this how it really ends?
I love you all.  I'm sorry. 

This was pretty much at the end of the rapids.
I can breathe again! I survived! I'm alive! I'M ALIIIIIIIIVE!!!!
Malvin climbed on top of the raft and flipped it after we were out of the rapids. 

So yes. We flipped on the second rapid. As soon as I saw that huge wave headed for us, I was so scared that I gripped the rope with all the ferocity (but none of the nobility) of a protective mother and I never let go. But it was 100% exhausting trying to hold onto the raft while huge waves crash on top of you for what seems like endless amounts of time and the current is trying to sweep you away and whipping you this way and that and you're gasping for air whenever your head pops out of the water which doesn't seem nearly often enough to survive. The current was so strong and crazy that you couldn't really swim. You were just at their mercy. And the waves. They kept coming, and coming, and coming...and coming...and coming...and so on and so forth.

Whitney, Adam, and Neil got entirely swept away and made it through most of the rapids with just the assistance of their life jackets, bless their hearts. The kayakers went after them, but got to them when the rapids were pretty much done. But all three of them held onto the kayaks and bobbed in the water until we got the raft to them.

The next rapid was a Class VI or VII (pretty much not doable)so all the rafts skipped it. We walked alongside it on the rocks, and my legs were still shaking from the last rapid. I had been honest to goodness scared out of my mind when I was in the water trying to breathe and not get ripped away from the raft. I thought, "I only have to survive 16 more rapids. Holy crap, what have I gotten myself into?" I also distinctly remember thinking that white water rafting was 100x scarier than bungee jumping.

We made it through the next rapid just fine, and then we got to "The Three Angry Sisters" that was followed up by "The Mother."

We flipped again on the first "Angry Sister." There weren't any cameras at the first "Angry Sister." But I got thrown off (and swept away) far enough so that I couldn't make it back to the raft. A kayak got to me so that I could hold on to something to help with keeping my head above water, but all the rafts got swept on without me. It's exhausting being in the rapids even (maybe especially) when you're holding on to something because the water is constantly trying to take you away. My abs and arms were getting super tired, so he took us to a little pocket of water where it was calmer and I could catch my breath.

The kayaker was going to try to paddle across the river where I could get on land and then walk past the other two "Angry Sisters" and the "Mother" and then get back on a raft on the other side of the rapids. He would paddle and I would try to swim and kick. We kept trying, but the current was too strong and we kept getting pushed back.

The kayaker looked at me and said "We can't make it to the other side, and the rafts won't be able to come back here. It's impossible. We're going to have to go to them through the rapids." And I said, "I can't hold on for that long. I can't. I'm too tired already." He said, "You've got to. Whatever you do, don't let go of the kayak." And he started paddling. I thought, "Crap." And I had a pity party for the briefest of moments before we were in the rapids and I didn't think about anything except for holding on to the metal handle on the front of the kayak and breathing whenever my head broke the water. We made it through the other two angry sisters and the Mother. But of course I made it, and now I'm awfully ashamed of saying "I can't" to the kayaker because as a general rule, I try to never say, "I can't" because usually, you can.

Here are a couple pictures of the Angry Sisters and the Mother. There are fewer people because Hannah had gotten picked up by another raft after she had fallen out and I was obviously not there because I was being best buddies with the kayaker. Now, I obviously did not go through the heart of these rapids. I was so disoriented while we were going through the rapids that I have no idea where in the river we were, but I'm assuming that the kayaker took a less crazy pathway.

They be abucklin' down!

Yet another wave. 

Reunited at last post "The Three Angry Sisters" and "The Mother"! Huzzah!

The second time I flipped was scarier than the first. Mostly because I was being so dramatic 
so extremely tired (which was kind of embarrassing because I like to consider myself somewhat fit) and I didn't know if I could make it back to the raft.

We also kind of did a half flip, where we all slid to one side and two people fell out. But we were able to pull them back in right away and did a pretty quick recover, at least compared to our other two mishaps.

Post wave. Pulling Neil and Hannah  back into the boat.

We were the only raft that flipped (and we flipped TWICE), so all the river guides started calling us the Zambezi Swimming Team. Hardy har har. We are slightly suspicious of Malvin, our guide, and that he may or may not have flipped us on purpose for entertainment's sake (and to make a cooler, more exciting group video). Everybody on our boat was a relatively fit young adult. Riddle me this: how could our paddling have sucked that much more than the boat full of grandpas, or the boat that had a couple kids in it, or the boat that had all those middle-aged, huffing women? Gosh, that's just embarrassing. Or maybe we're using Malvin as our scapegoat, because we don't want to admit that we were outdone by little kids and older folk.

So I just went back and reread what I wrote, and goodness,  it sounds like white water rafting was a horrible experience. It wasn't. It was also super fun. Was I scared out of my mind? Yes. Did that somehow (incredibly) also make it somewhat more fun? Of course (and especially more so in hindsight). And holy cow. The adrenaline every time we approached a rapid was ca-razy. One of Adam's friends is a river guide, and he told us that the Zambezi is on a lot of white water rafters' bucket lists. So I'm pretty proud about having done it. White water rafting ftw!

Also, here are a couple more pictures of us where we might actually look like we're having fun.

Oh, another funny story: So after I'd gotten into the boat after the second time that we'd flipped, we were paddling along the river. And Malvin said, "Look, there's a crocodile!"

I started laughing, because hey, I laugh easily in high-stress situations, and I thought he was trying to make a joke (I also always laugh at people's jokes, funny and non-funny).

He said, "No, really! Do you see it?"

And there was this huge problem and the problem was that I did see it.

It was just chilling on the bank of the river, as chill as a crocodile can be.

I thought, I just spent twenty minutes in a river with crocodiles in it?!?!?

Malvin thought it was funny. "Ha ha, but don't you worry. They are vegetarian crocodiles."

And I thought, "Hardy har har, you fool. Do you not know that death by crocodile is legitimately a fear of mine?"

So yup. That happened.

Needless to say, when we got to one of the smaller rapids and Malvin invited us to swim it (and people did, indeed, swim it), I declined. Noooooo thank you.