Shafted on a raft

In the spirit of “When was the last time you did something for the first time”, we decided to give white water rafting a shot on our recent Dasara family trip to the Bheemeshwari Adventure and Nature Camp located two and a half hours away from Bangalore. Having been assured by our guides that it is a beginner level course, we stepped into our rafts with some trepidation that turned to confidence when the rowing went quite smoothly for the first ten minutes or so.

A kilometre or so downstream, we got our first taste of undulating waters, the boat shuddering over a series of speedbreakers. Still, we are hardly wet and the excitement comes more from the guide yelling “Fast for’ard, fast for’ard” like the captain from an epic seafaring movie, exhorting his crew to row harder, than from any demons in the water. How big was that rapid? someone asks our guide.

The rapids have not started, that was just a wave.

Uh-oh.

A little further, we see a crocodile, a hundred or so metres, away sunning itself atop a rock jutting out of the Cauvery. Er, do they attack humans? (translated as - how safe as we in these plastic rafts?)

They are harmless. The river has enough fish, and it only has to open its mouth for a couple of fish to swim in. These are not man-eaters. We occasionally have a dead human floating in the river, and the crocs don’t touch it.

Comforting. Still, my hands instinctively move up the paddle, distancing themselves from the possible outlier that may be looking for a change in diet.

We then go through the first stretch of rapids, a biggish mean-looking swell that lets us free fall a couple of feet and then staunchly resists our efforts to paddle over it. But somehow, we move forward, and cross one more swell, and then another. The team cries out in a collective yell combining fear- delight-wetness.

Hmm..that was actually good fun.

Deciding that we are now nicely into the spirit of things, our guide decides to show us “surfing”. We row forward, reaching a big rock, where the current splits up across the two faces of the rock, skirts it, and re-joins at the opposite end in a violent collision that gives our raft a nice shake-up. As a result of some weird hydrodynamics, the boat refuses to remain steady, and keeps keeling over to one side and then another, while spinning at the same time. Basically doing everything other than moving straight ahead. At one point, I find my hands and feet still in the boat, fingers clutching the lifeline along its edge, with the rest of me in water. It is hard to imagine there is no machinery involved in generating this unstoppable force. This feels like some sort of aquatic rollercoaster cum merry go round. At some point, the guide realises I am not having as much fun as the others, steadies our ship and hauls me in. Someone yells out that my paddle is in the water and drifting away from us. Our sturdy guides change course, and one jumps into the water to recover the paddle.

We make our way to a calmer zone, where we are invited to jump into the water. I do so gingerly, holding on to the lifeline for dear life. A strong current pushes my legs forward and under the boat’s belly. Not a very comfortable position.

How might my backside appear to a croc down below, I wonder?
The guides decide there has been enough build-up and it is now climax time. This is another stretch of rapids, about twice as powerful as the previous one. The rolls and lurches are pretty violent, but this is better than the surfing we were doing a few minutes ago. We have come eight kilometres downstream, and in a couple of minutes are hauling the raft to the shore at our destination.

The rapids on the Cauvery river at Bheemeshwari are graded 2 to 2+ (basic paddling skill with no danger). There are places, like Rishikesh up North, with rapids graded upwards of 4, where advanced skills are required and there is real risk of injury. I am not going there.