White Water Blues

Posted by Arda on June 27th, 2007 filed in Northern Thailand, Chiang Mai, Activities, Watersports, Adventure, Thailand travel

By Jonny Rivers

Being a travel writer means getting free trips and tours, right? How lucky we are to get paid to seek out adventure and report on the excitement and wonderful experiences of travelling, but sometimes it all goes wrong and we end up risking our lives to bring readers the real truth. White-water rafting is one of those adrenalin inducing activities that have become immensely popular among travellers in the past decade, but just how safe is it?

Following a week of torrential rain in Chiang Mai our group set out to raft down the Mae Tang river, hoping to catch it at its most wild. Sure I’d rafted grade 4 and 5 rapids before; little did I realise what this river had in store.

After a brief but serious safety lecture and some impromptu practicing, we set out.  But within 10 minutes we’d capsized, having been drawn into a pile of debris in the middle of a rapid. Minutes before that we had lost both our guides overboard and had to steer ourselves into an eddy to recover them. This was clearly an unforgiving river.

Getting dumped at the bottom of a rapid is no problem, you hold your breath wait for the current to drag you out the other side, but with the rainy season in full swing, a river full of logs and branches in your way spells trouble. The fierce water pushes you up against obstacles, and there you stay until you drown.

There was panic, pandemonium and finally sheer power as the rapid dragged us in, then brief confusion as we all tumbled over. For a moment the raft was on top of us, dark and suffocating, moving fast. I found myself stuck, the force of the water threatening to push the life out of me. I could scarcely move under the pressure. Luckily I found my head above water. Instinctively I grabbed onto a nearby log, struggling just to gather my wits. A thought for the others flashed through my head; somewhere out there was my girlfriend (much smaller and weaker than I, and unable to swim). But I could only worry about myself. I was stuck, trapped at the mercy of this angry boiling river. I realised my leg had been wedged under a branch, but the forceful current made it impossible to free it. Water was coming at me, pushing, dragging, threatening to flatten me and full my lungs with water. I held on with all my strength, fighting the current, unable to move or even find a relaxing position to gather my strength. Every second was a challenge, stretching my muscles, cutting my fingers and testing my will. Waves of water smashed into me. Once I nearly lost grip.

Thinking back, many of us have had near death experiences, a quick car crash, shots fired, or near a miss, something that is instantly over. But imagine confronting your death moment for twenty minutes, grappling with nature, you versus the rushing power of a cubic ton of water a minute, without a second to rest and regroup, just one long struggle with no one else to help­.

Minutes dragged. My strength was beginning to wane, in desperation I tried wiggling my leg free, I even tried using an arm but had to quickly revert to a double grip, one slip and I would’ve been washed backwards and defeated.

“let go, let go” I heard, shouted from the banks, “let the current take you”.

It took them about 10 minutes to realise I wasn’t budging. With sapped strength it was impossible to yell above the roar of the water. Finally, they threw me a rope but it missed.  At this stage I could only concentrate on holding on. Another rope came, landing across me, weakly I snatched it. Somehow I managed to wrap it around a stump in the wood. And then they were there, two guides who had shimmied across the water like monkeys, battling the water themselves. One was nearly lost and I waited desperately for the other to help him recover.

“Pull”, I hoarsely yelled with a final burst of adrenalin. It took several attempts to beat the current but it worked, I was jerked forward and managed to wiggle my leg free. Nirvana!

They dragged me onto the log and there I lay for ages, just recovering my strength and panting, too afraid and exhausted to move. Eventually I plucked up the courage to release myself back into the river and soon found myself spat out into the quiet eddy’s below. I could scarcely swim to the bank, someone dragged me in, the others were evidently oblivious to what had happened, I collapsed into the dinghy and wept, too tired to do much else. All about me there was confusion and bewilderment. All the others were thankfully OK.

As I write this, a few days later, I’m still limping and winch every time I brush my severely grazed arms against anything. It was a frightening experienced which I’d rather forget about. A comment from the guide flashes through my memory; “The Mae Tang descends nearly 1000 feet in only a short length, it can be very dangerous in the rainy season”. Their professionalism was never in doubt, they saved my life and thousands descend the river safely every year. Later they told me I should’ve just let go, suggesting that the inertia of the river would’ve dislodged my trapped leg. This may have been true, but in panic I had decided not to risk it.  By my judgement the leg was firmly hooked, there was no backup plan and the stakes were my own life.

When adventure and fun is involved it’s always hard to say no, but sometimes we need to judge for ourselves if commercialism is overriding safety ethics. In Thailand litigation over safety is very porous. We all acknowledge that this is a high risk sport when we sign the indemnity form but the harsh fact is; lots of people around the world drown every year rafting the white water.