“Mekong” Mick’s Wildass Adventure–Chapter 5: Last time we visited our intrepid paddler I used the words “death hole.” I think it was the right description, though Mick preferred “my worst kayaking nightmare come true.” Read on:
I paddled kilometer after kilometer through gorges of white water but generally speaking it was possible to stop above the most difficult ones and scout a viable route down. At 2.00pm on day 6 it seemed that my worst kayaking nightmare would come true. I entered what looked like just another canyon but as I proceeded the canyon walls closed in until there were no avalanches or boulders to stop at. Only 18 meters wide the canyon had a steep gradient drop and powerful surges and boils pushed my kayak around like a cork.
Friction caused by the water along the canyon walls meant that the waterline along the edge was about a foot higher than in the middle where I struggled to maintain control in relentless whirlpools and surges. I was unable to stop and as I was forced down stream around the next bend I saw the horizon line drop away several meters and tufts of mist shot up into the air sporadically, a solid indication that there was a dangerous rapid below. I could not see a place to stop and my body surged with adrenalin. When I was within 30 meters of the drop I spotted several boulders on river right of the rapid. Behind one was a small eddy about one meter squared. I paddled for my life. The powerful boils attempted to push me away from the edge and every muscle was tweaked as I fought against the power of the water. As I neared the lip of the rapid a massive hole roared as it pumped mist into the air warning me not to miss the eddy.
Far below I could see that the rapid continued for at least another 200 meters before rounding a corner and had no idea what laid beyond although I could see what appeared to be the start of the next rapid. I strained and groaned, finally managing to pull into the tiny sanctuary behind the rock, it was a very close call and definitely scared the hell out of me but this was just the start. My body felt weak as the adrenalin subsided and I sat there for about 10 minutes to recuperate. A dangerous balancing act ensued as I struggled to get out of the kayak in an eddy that still surged with boils. I clambered onto a small cone-shaped rock while trying not to slip in nor let go of the kayak or paddle. Finally I managed to get secure footing and dragged up the boat, jamming it between the rock and the canyon wall.
I surveyed the class V+ rapid. There was no way of going back upstream or climbing out. I had to run the drop. At least I could now calculate the task before throwing myself into the violence. I worked out a route that entailed dropping off the rock into some fast flowing surges that came of the right wall, quickly skirting the powerful hole along the lower edge of the boulders I stood on and them cutting hard left above a second larger hole in the middle of the river. I would then have to use diagonal waves coming off the left wall to thrust me into a large hole/ wave that looked as though it could be bashed through with sufficient speed. From there a wave train continued to the bend and from there, I would just have to see what evolved. It was a very risky move. One error in the early stages could mean getting thoroughly munched by the intimidating holes and if lucky enough to survive them there was no way of getting to the edge before the next corner where I anticipated another drop would start.
It was a terrifying position to be in. I looked at the rapid for a long time before building up the courage to run it and under normal circumstances I would definitely choose not to attempt it but there were no other alternatives. It was not so much the dangerous drop that put the fear in me it was what lay downstream. Was this the start of a waterfall or long class 6 section?
I seal launched off the rock into the foray and the river quickly ushered me toward the first hole. Despite my best efforts the stern clipped the outer edge of the hole as I passed swinging my kayak down stream toward the next hole. Momentum was lost as I made a correcting stroke. Again I paddled with every ounce of energy my body could muster crossing the heart of the second hole before being slammed by its left edge and capsizing. A tense moment elapsed as I waited to feel whether the hole had me within its grips in which case I would most likely be recirculated repeatedly until out of my kayak and “if lucky” I would be released to swim down stream through the waves and whirlpools that would suck me under for periods of 5-10 seconds at a time to face the next violent rapid that lay below.
To my great relief the hole released me and I rolled up just long enough to take a breathe before being slammed heavily by the large whole wave on river left, hitting it side ways. Without sufficient momentum it re-circulated me violently twice before spitting me out into the wave train. I rolled up and tried to take a breath but received a lung full of water instead when a wave smashed over my bow.
I paddled as hard as I could to river right to see what lay around the corner before I was in it. The water in my lungs did not allow me to breathe properly and I became weaker with every stroke. The next thumping rapid began coming into view and again the mist shot above the horizon line. This time the avalanche that had caused the rapid was in clear view and I made for it yet most of the river was moving right to left forcing me back towards the centre of the river. Before reaching the safety of the avalanche I was sucked into the next rapid. I straightened up to face my fate and spotted what may have been a “line” (safe pathway through the rapid) and committed instantly. I paddled straight over a huge rooster tail and skirted a house sized hole on the other side more by chance than anything else before entering a massive wave train followed by huge boils that sucked my entire boat under several times.
I could finally breathe properly again and re established control. The boils and swirls carried me to another powerful class V rapid but fortunately I could eddy out above this one and spent 30 minutes regaining strength before partially portaging it. I realized that a swim through any portion of this gorge would almost certainly have spelt death. On several occasions my kayak containing around the save volume of air as a 44 gallon drum was completely sucked under by the eddy lines and whirlpools forming in the middle of the river with only my head shoulders and paddle left above. A swimmer would be under for long periods and this was just on the relatively mild sections between vicious rapids.
Holy Haul-Out! And that’s just Round 1. On Monday, Mick finds first fear, then God, and finally recuperates with Yak yoghurt…
The Mekong Gorges: Remote enough…?
(Photo: Courtesy of Mekong Mick’s ‘Mazing Mum, Lynley O’Shea)
The Earthist Chronicles 