An Elephant Bull Called Elizabeth and Other Short Stories from Africa

The Problem With Canoeing

A picture is worth a thousand words though, I am sure, if you ask the young lady who was occupying the front seat at the time, she would have at least had a little something to add.  I never knew her name nor did I even meet her, rather I arrived back at camp to be greeted by the remains of the canoe, the victim already on her way to the airstrip for evacuation to hospital with a large gash torn out of her outer thigh.

Some might disagree but, in my opinion, canoeing where there are hippos carries a level of risk a notch above any other safari activity all of which are pretty safe when all is said and done.  The dynamics of a honeymoon couple, not any couple in-particular, rather any old honeymoon couple on any given day, provides a good insight into the difficulties of canoeing safely.

My policy has always been to seperate the newlyweds.  Whether they know it or not marital bliss is very much dependant on my doing so and here is why.

First comes the demonstration.  This is where you show people who might never have canoed before how to steer their craft.  You then ask those watching to jump into a canoe and demonstrate what they have just learnt.  Leave the couple to their own devices and, nine times out of ten, the groom will jump in the back, where most directional control originates, and his bride will take the front.  They will then proceed to laugh and joke as minimal control is exhibited.  After a bit of coaching they get the hang of it, to a degree, and soon it is time to set off.

Now the problems begin.  Up front, with the best view, our bride is alert to the dangers ahead and wishes to discuss them with the man controlling the direction that they take.  Her instincts are very much to talk about the potential problem and come up with a solution where both parties are on the same page.  Her new husband however is a typical bloke, he too sees the dangers but does not see that there is anything to discuss.  If there is something up ahead, he will simply do as he has been taught and steer left or right as needed.  

At first this clash of styles is funny but it is not long before it wears down both individuals.  In the back there is a feeling of resentment building at being nagged, in the front there is a realisation that the person in control of their immediate destiny is not engaging in discussion and is just doing his own thing.  Fairly soon you have a couple that are not working together at all.  Not great in any event but here you are, on a swiftly flowing river with crocodiles and hippos, and your canoe handling skills were not great to begin with.

Now, fortunately, crocs are not really a problem, unless you fall out, and hippo are not as aggressive as they are made out to be; thank goodness, otherwise there would be far more incidents than there are.  That is not to say that hippos are not dangerous, because they are.  But they are dangerous not because they are aggressive, but because they are stupid.  Weighing in at well over a tonne they really have nothing to fear from a canoe drifting aimlessly down the river with a bickering couple on board.  However, despite countless encounters that prove this to be the case your average hippo never learns and still feels threatened by the canoe and its occupants so, rather than passively watch you go by, they all race for the deep water and submerge.  This is where good control of the canoe is essential.  Once your foe is submerged you can bet it will simply be keeping its head down and out of the way in the deep part of the river; therefore, if you either canoe through the shallows or, where there are no shallow waters, stick close to the bank, you should be well out of the way when a hippo pops up to take a breath and there in lies the problem.

At times the canoe is not being steered as well as it should and strays into dangerous territory.  With the current of the river the canoe is carried forward whether on a safe course or otherwise.  The hippo is scared and trying to hide underwater and so there is very little chance of actually seeing it and trying to avoid it if you are drifting ever closer.  

In the end the canoe comes too close.  The hippo; despite its size and a set of teeth that can fend off huge crocodiles; feels threatened, assumes that there is no escape and so goes on the offensive.  The outcome of the encounter is then up for grabs.

As you can imagine, even if nothing as dramatic as an attack happens, the honeymoon couple have a few gripes with each other by the end of the day.  Far better to seperate them out so that they might best enjoy the experience on offer.

Of course it is not just honeymooners that have problems, it is just that they tend not to have gotten used to each-other's foibles and learning that such foibles exist can put a dampener on the holiday.

The only incident I have had whilst guiding was canoeing.  There was myself and my tracker in the lead, with an American couple in the canoe behind.  The water was deep all the way from one bank to the other and so we were sticking tight in alongside the bank, leaving the deep center channel to the hippo.  

As we approached a tree that had fallen and was lying in the water I heard the intake of air as a hippo went into dive mode.  For those who know this sound it is unmistakeable.  Grabbing onto projecting roots I brought canoe to a halt with my guests likewise stopped just behind me.  Standing up I could see the swirls of mud where the river horse had just taken leave of its sheltered spot and headed for the center of the river, ostensibly to get away from us.  I gave the animal a few minutes to settle and then issued my instructions.  We were to continue hugging the bank and, where the tree stuck out into the river, we were to go out around the end of it, then straight back into the bank and continue on our way.

Taking the lead once more we started paddling.  I went round the end of the tree and straight back in to the bank.  The American couple tried to follow but failed, going a little wide of the end of the tree they almost came to a halt as they fought wind and current in an effort to bring the bow of the canoe to bear and make for safer waters.  

What I had not realised, despite the time spent stopped on the upstream side of the tree, was that the hippo in question was a mother and had her newborn calf stashed under the overhanging branches of the fallen tree.  It was still there.  Disaster!  The female hippo had been willing to let us pass but, when the American canoe hesitated right near her calf she thought the game was up and rushed to the defence, hitting the canoe from below and throwing the guests out.  That done she took a huge bite of fibreglass and shook the whole thing as easily as a jack russell might shake the stick it is trying to kill.  

In the meantime I had obviously brought my canoe to a halt and stood up with my rifle.  Despite being armed there was no way I could take a shot from an unstable platform with guests and hippo in such close proximity.  Sitting down again my tracker and I turned the canoe and raced back upstream.  By the the time we arrived it was all over.  Towing the two sodden guests to the bank adrenaline, not Red Bull, gave them wings and they flew up the six foot vertical cliff that edged the water, keen to make dry land.  Impressively it took just 11 minutes from my radio call for our rescue boat to deploy from the camp upstream and come to our rescue.

In the end we were lucky, no-one was hurt and we all now have a tale to tell.  I have canoed since and probably will do so in the future but I always take that little extra care when I do.