PADDLER 36
One minute after almost being sucked into a deadly undercut .
Kayaking was the glue that created my amazing bond with my father , but it was nearly the same thing that almost took me away from him and then from me .
PADDLER 36
Begins :
This spring , a friend lost his 17-year-old son to a kayaking accident . The group did everything right . They scouted , they set up safety , and nobody was in over their head . It was just one of those unfortunate events where things went wrong , and nobody could do anything fast enough to avoid the tragic ending . Thankfully he was not present to witness the accident .
As a father who has introduced my son to a slew of potentially dangerous activities , like kayaking , snowboarding , motorcycling and more , I ’ d be amiss if I didn ’ t say this is on my mind , perhaps more than it should be . The bond I am establishing with my son , the memories he ’ s forming , the ones I ’ m forming , and the deep bond that ’ s growing between us is partly thanks to these activities we do together .
My most precious childhood memories are paddling with my father in sun-kissed South Africa . He introduced me to paddling when I was just six years old , and while we had no kid-specific equipment ( we didn ’ t have any
One minute after almost being sucked into a deadly undercut .
equipment – he and his friends built the equipment we needed as we went ), I still could participate .
BAKED TO A CRISP
We ’ d spend months planning each trip because it was truly an expedition . The river we ran was a 10-12 day trip , with everything we needed to be carried with us in the fragile fibreglass kayaks . It was more than a day ’ s drive ; the shuttle was a day round trip . The sun was so harsh and unforgiving that we ’ d leave the river baked to a crisp , lips and nose bleeding from excessive sunburn , hands seemingly permanently covered with resin from repairing boats on the go , fibreglass rash on our butts ( seats hadn ’ t occurred to us , so we sat directly on the fibreglass hull in speedos ).
It was utterly miserable .
Those are my most cherished childhood memories . As I grew into a teenager , and all my school friends avoided their parents , regarding them as old fuddyduddies , my father was my best friend . What teenager thinks his father is his best buddy , seriously ?
I did . Because we had established such a deep bond on these expeditions , the most exciting and cherished things I could do were always with him . I hope to have this relationship with my son , and we write our new story on the palimpsest of the one my father and I created .
But it is not without its dangers . As I grew in skill and our equipment improved , we began pushing our limits . One day , when I was about 14 , a small group of us decided to make the second-ever run of the Gariep Gorge on the Orange River , running through the Kalahari and Namib deserts . This boulder-strewn canyon is rife with undercuts ; indeed , the entire gorge consists of massive boulders that have rolled into the river , choking the flow and creating the rapids that run around and under them .
Halfway down the run , my father and the third paddler Neil ‘ Beetle ’ Baily , eddied out unexpectedly , so I decided to join them . But I was late and washed low into the eddy , where it spilt out the back side under a massive undercut . I was so low that the rear of my boat was pushed under the rock , and I felt my life jacket pushing against it as it tried to suck me in . I could reach back and push off it with my paddle and out to safety alongside the other two .
TERRIFYING
I said nothing , but it was a terrifying moment . I very nearly bought the farm . I ’ m sure if I ’ d mentioned this to my father , he would have seriously considered what we were doing ( in general ), and I ’ m glad I didn ’ t . But imagine if …
A couple of years later , as my skill set evolved rapidly , I led my father down a class 5 run in the Western Cape on the Dwaars River . A class 5 creek with waterfalls and undercuts everywhere , you had to always be on your toes . I ’ d run it the day before with a friend and showed my father down the run . The day before , my friend had gotten pinned on a rock mid-river that was undercut right above a 10m waterfall , and I managed to get him a line to pull him off the rock . I was aware of the danger , and so I was mindful that when we got to the same place , to make sure we kept away from it .
So I let my guard drop on an earlier rapid , and as I sat at the bottom waiting for my father , I wondered what he was doing . He should have been right behind me and was not . I waited a minute and then decided I should get out and go up to see . He appeared as I got to shore and paddled down to join me . He ’ d gotten pinned under a log jam and , by his testimony , nearly came to an untimely end .
Kayaking was the glue that created my amazing bond with my father , but it was nearly the same thing that almost took me away from him and then him from me .
So I think about this . I use all my experience , and common sense , to create as safe an environment as possible for my son , whether kayaking or snowboarding . Still , both activities innately add an element of danger to life that would otherwise not be present , and they are also the activities that make our lives so rewarding .
When my son was four , he couldn ’ t swim . It wasn ’ t a problem because we put him in a good life jacket , and he would float down rapids together all the time , getting him used to the environment . One day , at the
Kayaking was the glue that created my amazing bond with my father , but it was nearly the same thing that almost took me away from him and then from me .