We Were Lucky
I can smell them before I see them. It is an unknown smell of old skin mixed with dirt and water. I’ve never experienced this smell. I’m having a lot of new experiences on this journey… before we even put on the river I was having a pee when a cobra reared up in front of me. I ran, shorts still below my knees, peeing on my legs. That wouldn’t be the last time I stared down a possibly lethal animal in the eyes.
The Murchison Falls section of the White Nile, in Uganda, has eluded me since I was a student at World Class Kayak Academy. I watched a crew of my heroes venture to this section and since then, it’s been on my ever curious mind. When Davey drunkenly asked me at the NRE bar to go with him on this trip, I still think he was half-joking. However, I was all in. Snowy (my ever-loving husband in America) sent me money for the trip (he had NO idea what I was getting into) and three days later, we headed north.
We picked up the rest of our crew including the manager of the Murchison River Lodge, a good friend of Davey’s, a professional fishing guide, and one of my favorite humans in the world, Benny Marr. We headed to the Karuma dam, escorted by the military. In the heat of the day, we packed the raft, got our kayaks ready, made sure we had everything we needed (which was minimal for a 3-5 day trip) and pushed off into the Karuma Wildlife Reserve. Davey quickly reminded all of us, “this is one of the only places on the planet where you are not the top of the food chain, you’re on it.” Thanks for the words of positivity Davey.
Into the Abyss
The next 80 kilometers of the river not only holds some of the largest rapids I will ever see, and/or kayak, but it is the highest concentration of hippos and crocodiles in the World. I was thankful to have Benny on the water with me and Davey, with Bob, as raft support. Despite the rapids being huge, the most dangerous part of this trip was the flat water. Every flat water section we came to, we would hit our kayaks with our paddles to alert the hippos and not scare them. On the other hand, it also alerted the crocs to a possible meal.
It’s hard to not be constantly terrified out there, there is always something watching you!
Photo by: Bob Frederick
Camp on night one. There were about 15 hippos and around 2-3 crocs out there.
Photo by: Bob Frederick
Our first “big rapid” was just downstream. We split up, the raft going to river left, Benny and I going to river right, to scout. Always taking a machete, we whacked at shrubbery and trees until we could see the rapid. I almost chopped my leg off, I’m not talented with a machete. A massive, river-wide, hole with an opening in the middle, about 4 feet wide. There was little room for error. Suddenly, we were both lit up by fire ants and proceeded to run back to the kayaks and jump in. Hopefully, Benny could remember the wave we needed to enter because I was too busy pulling ants off of me to even think about it.
We made it to a camp that clearly had been habited by hippos at some point. We munched some food and started the fire. We all slept under the stars. I use “slept” as a loose term. Listening to the grunts of a pissed off hippo and the fire crackling, the restless dreams came in bursts.
Safari Sandwich
The next morning the river geology had changed massively. We were meandering through islands and the river was over 1 km wide. Davey knew the way through (sometimes) and we slowly, carefully, moved through the class 2.
Benny and I were paddling, having a chill conversation. He was a bit behind me to the left. I was looking right, I thought maybe I saw a croc sneaking up on us but I didn’t want to cry wolf, it would have been my first one in the water. It really looked like a log. Benny, meanwhile, was looking to his left and asked: “is that a rock or a hippo?” A lot happened at once after that. I chirped in and said… “Davey…? Is that a…?”
Davey yelled, “CROC!!!! Its an (expletive) croc!!! Get in the raft!!!”
Benny turned to the left and came face to face with what he thought could be a rock, which in fact was a gargantuan hippo. I too had to turn left to get away from the croc which had its eyes right on me at that moment. I paddled as hard as I could to the safety of the raft where I was swiftly pulled in. Benny meanwhile was paddling down a road to nowhere and we had to save him after a good amount of time chasing him down. He didn’t follow the directions, typical.
The rapids started picking up again with some honkers in there. We would meander down the sides of the river having to be ever careful to avoid the angry bull hippos guarding their eddies in the middle of the chaos. As if we didn’t have enough to think about. Coming around the corner in a big water class 4-5 hoping for an eddy, only to be shot down by a hippo. I chose the rapids every time and never once regretted it.
I cried, so did Benny. This moment was powerful.
Photo by: Bob Frederick
Photo by: Bob Frederick
That Smell
In the midst of the stress, that smell came to me. We rounded the corner to find a vast family of elephants grazing on the side of the river and playing in the water. This was a scent that would stick with me for life. The huge bull was watching carefully over his harem. I couldn’t believe it. At this moment, I fell in love with this place. We watched, silently, babies spraying each other with water, mothers basking in the sun, aunts pulling branches off of trees. Everything was quiet and I could hear them breathe. This moment made me feel so small in this huge World. I long to have that smell again.
If I could even begin to put into words how stressful it is, paddling down one of the largest rivers in the world, with hippos and crocs surrounding you, I would. But, that is a hard feat to put down on paper, you’ll just have to trust me.
We continued downstream through bigger and bigger waves of water. The known portage was coming up and that was going to be an adventure in its self. The portage is through Ugandan jungle, on hippo trails, with snakes, ants, and everything else that wants to bite any naked skin. It was stressful even finding the eddy with the correct trail, let alone getting into it while at least 10 hippos were underwater. Benny and I sprinted the flat water in the eddy, creating snorts of anger in our wake.
The portage took around 4 hours, we had to deflate the raft and carry everything across an island, riddled with hippo trails, then inflate the raft and ferry across another channel. It was hard work. It was hot and everything wanted to bite or scratch us. But all worth it when we put back in below a majestic waterfall. The scenery changed even more after this. We spent the night not far downstream, dreaming of what was to come.
Thankful for another successful day and a beautiful sunset to match.
Photo by: Bob Frederick
Cornered by a Croc
Benny and I were talking the next morning about how scared we were during the flat water on this run. For me, the whitewater was also insane, I was right at the tip of my ability. We both agreed to attempt to avoid another safari sandwich for breakfast. With heads full of rapids and stress, we drank coffee and ate our oatmeal. As a group, we all figured we could make it off of the river today. Three days was enough for our brains and bodies. The stress of being on the food chain for 60 hours was enough.
One of the larger rapids out there. Benny ran through the meat on the right side, it was massive. The raft and I picked our way down the left side, keeping a lookout for hippos lurking in the eddies.
Photo by: Bob Frederick
The rapids in the morning were chaotic and hectic while still being somewhat manageable. Benny and I watched baby warthogs chase each other around in circles, leaving a dust storm behind them. There was life all around us. It was at this moment something caught my eye over my right shoulder. Teeth.
Dickhead of a croc, this thing was probably 20-25 feet long.
Screengrab of Bennys GoPro footage
All I saw was teeth coming straight towards me with a wake in front of them. I didn’t even have the capacity to yell, I turned away from the croc and sprinted like Micheal Phelps towards the raft. Davey alerted Benny and the race was on. The safety of the raft felt so far away. Davey was leaning over the raft with both of his hands urging me closer. Visualize that scene out of Jaws, trying to hurry to get into the boat. Davey pulled me into the raft, still in my kayak, one-handed and there I was sitting on his lap at the back of the boat. Benny wasn’t far behind, he got pulled up on the back of the raft. Safety. For now.
We all sat in silence, felt the croc hit the raft, it moved the whole boat. We started hitting the water with paddles to try to scare it away. Click here to see POV footage from the encounter. (Disclaimer: there are some choice words in the video) The croc wasn’t finished with us. Lunging out of the water, his head as high as the humans on the raft, his sheer size was out of a movie, around 20-25 feet. Our trusty fisherman had dealt with enough crocs to know we had to fight this one. He took a paddle and hit it straight on the head. There was a loud crack and the paddle reverberated out of his hands. He quickly grabbed Bennys Werner to take another shot at the croc but it didn’t resurface near to us. The croc resurfaced still swimming towards the raft and we started full speed ahead into the next rapid. It happened so fast, we all sat in silence for a few breaths. Then the nervous laughter started. I looked at Davey and said, “I don’t want to get back in the water”. He laughed and told me I had no choice.
We spent a lot of time on the raft in flat water, it was a lot to push around in the boils but better than getting eaten. We also got the chance to watch even more wildlife from the safety of a larger craft. It was peaceful moments like this that I long to relive.
Photo by: Bob Frederick
After that, Benny and I never went far from the raft. The raft would go down the rapid first and wait for us before any of the flat water started, we weren’t going to risk it in the last 20 kilometers. Like a mother ushering her children around.
Don’t Get Complacent
The last 6 kilometers of this section holds some of the biggest whitewater and instead of the usual pool drop style, they are all piled up on each other. With Murchison Falls close enough we could almost hear her, this was no time for a mistake.
This photo does this rapid no justice. No room for mistakes here, the entrance to the Zoo.
Photo by: Bob Frederick
I will forever be grateful to have Benny as my friend.
Photo by: Bob Frederick
We carefully scouted everything we could see around the corner, having an out of boat experience here would be possibly lethal. A raft flipping would be nearly catastrophic. We carefully broke apart the jaw-dropping rapids and stuck to the more conservative lines. There was a horizon line ahead and Davey popped out of the raft to take a look. There was a clean line down the middle left side but there were hippos everywhere. We were surrounded by aquatic killers.
Davey decided to take the raft down first, hoping to scare the smaller ones away with the size of the raft. I wasn’t far behind and Benny was near. One hippo, in particular, wasn’t so keen on moving and it had its eyes on me. It started charging me when Davey noticed and moved the raft between me and the hippo, possibly saving my life, again. That takes the count to at least three in the last three days.
We were inching closer to the end of the adventure every wave we broke through. Davey started turning the raft towards river left and meandered into a huge eddy with a road leading down to it. We had made it. Benny and I stayed in the middle of the river and surfed a beautiful wave for as long as we could. Taking in the last three days and thanking Mother Earth for safe passage through one of the most dangerous rivers in the World. As much as we wanted to get off of the river, we were milking our time in the last moments. Riding the waves of the Nile.
After Benny left, I sprinted through the eddy, only to look behind me and see over thirty sets of eyes looking at me. We had made it.
On my Mind
The celebration of humans who just successfully rolled the dice on one of the most dangerous sections of whitewater in the World.
Photo by: Benny Marr
The takeout is just upstream of the famous Murchison Falls. After celebrating touching land again, we stood at the top of Murchison Falls, to feel her fury and hear the thunder of the whole White Nile pulsing through the thin chasm. All of us in awe of what we just accomplished.
Needless to say, we went on a bit of bender that night and even went on an impromptu night safari where I called my husband from the sat phone to tell him we all made it. The phone cut out within 45 seconds, but at least he knew I was alive.
In the years since this trip, I have never stopped thinking about going back. There is a pull, back to this special place that is not easily explained. Every trip down this section of whitewater is a roll of the dice and I don’t know that I’m willing to risk rolling snake eyes.