Since I have rafted the Kicking Horse River in British Colombia and the Mountains of Northern Thailand, I thought why not try the Zambezi? Could it be that much harder? The answer is YES. We are in high water season, so the first ten rapids were closed because they are too dangerous. This should have been an early warning for what was to come. Our morning started with a quick safety brief, a bumpy off road drive and a treacherous 40 minute descent into the gorge on a ladder made from thin branches and rusty nails. Zambian safety standards have not yet caught up to medieval times, let alone the strict standards us North Americans are used to. The rapids were definitely stronger than anything I had experienced before. You could see whirlpools forming almost the entire way down the river. Other than the raft flipping over on Rapid 13, a class 5 named “The Mother”, it was a very enjoyable and safe experience. It was so enjoyable, that I had signed up for a second run down the river the very next day. The guides had told me that it was dangerous to bring my camera so I had left it behind. The promise of fantastic gorge photos also contributed to the decision of signing another waiver form. I would learn that that was probably one of the worst decisions I have ever made…

This day started very similar to the last. The walk into the canyon was still very dangerous. It was raining today, so that added a little more spice to the already terrifying descent into the gorge. As soon as I got into the raft, I immediately noticed that the water was much more turbulent. Our paddle out of the cove was a lot more strenuous as well. What followed was the most frightening few minutes of my entire life. The very first rapid (rapid #10, a class 4/5), “The Gnashing Jaws of Death” would be my nightmare for the next short while. The instant we hit the wave, I knew we were going over. As the raft tumbled over, it landed right on top of me, trapping me in the churning water. I could feel the raft slip away as a whirlpool dragged me down into the depths of the river and the light of the sun faded into a dark brown as I was dragged deeper under. I felt like death himself had a hold on my neck and was pulling me into an abyss. My life passed before my eyes as I looked out into a dark brown fury of water. Kicking my legs and thrashing my arms, I desperately tried to resurface but I kept being pulled deeper. What was probably only about 60 seconds felt like a millennium as I swallowed huge gulps of the Zambezi. As I kicked and fought for my life, I swallowed more water and that 60 or so seconds felt like an hour. Then, it happened. My body just went still as I gave up, I thought that this was the end of my life. A calmness came over me.

A split second later, the life jacket did its job and I resurfaced, only to see that my raft was long gone. A splash of colour caught my attention in the sea of brown ferocious water. It was a blue kayak, manned by one of the safety team! As I gasped for air, “Enock” quickly made his way over to me, a sense of urgency and worry on his face. He instructed me to stay calm and how to hold on to his kayak as he steered me to a calmer part of the river. He literally saved my life. This man is my hero, I told him he was my guardian angel and that he had in fact saved a life today. I kept smiling at him and high fiving him the rest of the day. I am alive today because of this man.