Baños, Ecuador, in the shadow of the active volcano Tungurahua
Back from the Ecuadorian Amazon Jungle we come to the adventure town of Baños.
I decide to do a ´pendulum´ bungee jump which means I don´t have to fall head first - I stay right way up, jump of a brisge and swing backwards and forwards under another bridge.
As I step off the bridge I am thinking - *#@%.
I am falling. I know that I will be fine but that is some time in the future. It doesn´t mean much during free fall.
After a second or two, tension returns to the bungee cord and my panic subsides. From then on its just east swinging.
Baños Ecuador - Rafting
(The next day.)
Our rafts are large rubber dinghies. Six of us are assigned to the red raft, another six to the yellow raft. Each raft also has a pilot that sits in the back. We all have wetsuits and wet runners. I also have wet socks because I have found this helps protect my blisters and prevent new ones.
Our pilot teaches us the basics: forward, forward-faster, back, back-faster, stop and inside. 'Inside' is where we give up trying to control the raft, assume a kind of kneeling/praying position and hang on for dear life. He also teaches us how to retrieve fallen comrades.
The last raft I was on was a bamboo raft in Thailand. That had a totally different set of instructions. It was six bamboo poles eight metres long and six centimetre diameter lashed together. On that, we stood up and used long poles to steer. The ten year old pilot instructing us, "Left... left... left......... LIGHT-LIGHT-LIGHT-LIGHT-LIGHT".
We take the raft to the river and get in but we don start down the river yet. First our pilot drills us through all the commands including body retrieval. Then he gets us all to stand under a waterfall. I think this is a good idea. You don't want anyone to have any delusions about not getting wet.
I am in the front left position and have been designated 'Captain Left'. My left foot is shoved forward into a pocket on the floor of the craft. My right foot is aft, jammed under a large inflated which streches across the width of the raft and helps to give it structure. Like everyone else I am sitting on the side of the raft, facing forward.
The stalwart, bearded Brad is 'Captain Right'. Our pilot has stressed that we have to keep our strokes synchronised. The rest of the crew will follow our lead.
Roanna has had plenty of experience in rafts before so she is 'back-seat driver right'. She stresses how important my position is in order for the raft to safely navigate the rapids and she urges me to row well.
I had been planning to row to the best of my ability but now I review my strategy. I can't come up with anything better so I decide to stick with my initial plan.
'Forward' shouts the pilot, his voice muffled by the roar of the river. 'Forward' echoes the crew, passing the message on to those who didn't hear it.
'Forward-fast' shouts the pilot as we repeatedly lean forward into the river plunging our paddles deep into the river and dragging as much water as possible behind us.
'Stop' shouts the pilot as we let the rapid current draw us along. All this time the pilot has been using his paddle to steer us in the right direction.
The yellow raft takes the lead, the critical 'Captain Left' position occupied by a valient thirteen year old girl. We know that we will catch up with them, red rafts being naturally faster than yellow rafts, and we discuss with the pilot the aqua-dynamic advantages racing stripes could bring.
'Forward-forward' shouts the pilot. 'What the hell is forward-forward?' I think as I start up a forward stroke. I guess it's just a more insistent version of 'forward'.
As we proceed through the rapids we row as the raft bucks and sways. Sometimes the water drops beneath us and we have to reach down far outside the raft or else we are paddling air.
On one of the rapids Captain Left Yellow falls overboard and is successfully rescued.
'Go! Go!' shouts Roanna. 'What does "Go" mean?' I yell back continuing with my 'forward' strokes. Apparently it is 'forward' translated into New Zealand rafting terminology. A short word quick and to the point. Well, that's fine now that I know.
We stop and are led to a bank below a bridge and are instructed to jump in the river and swim to shore. This, I assume is a test for our pilots to see how well we can swim and how strong our nerve is. We are then led through a series of progressively higher jumps. Captain Left Yellow makes each jump twice.
When you are travelling down rapids and the craft rocks and sways and drops down falls and crashes into and over waves you can move your body backwards or forwards as if you were riding a horse and this makes the ride easier. That is, if the pilot has yelled 'stop'.
If the pilot yells 'forward' it doesn't matter if the raft is inclined dangerously down into the trough before an upcoming four foot wave of water. You have to lean forward, further outside the boat, into the danger and stretch out to reach the water.
And that is probably what I am doing when the river suddenly lifts the boat and I fall out. Well, nearly. My body is right out of the craft leaning backwards but my legs still hold on. I have a lot of strength in my legs from walking and dancing so I don't fall out. But my stomach and back muscles aren't that great so I am having a hell of a time trying to right myself. I have to hold that position for about five seconds before Brad grabs my hand and helps me back up.
After another set of rapids I try to ask the pilot how much farther we have to go. Are we half way I suggest? There is a communication problem and I don't get an answer. Then we are descending another set of rapids. Two minutes later we head to shore and our trip is over.
'So soon?' I ask. I look at my watch but all I see is a bare wrist. My watch is gone.
That water resistent $5 watch has been to a lot of places. I think I got it about six years ago before I went to Samoa. I really only wear a watch when travelling so it has been more of an international watch. Good times. Now it is gone. An innocent victim of the powerful Ecuadorian river.
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Baños Ecuador - Canyoning.
(Same day.)
I had never heard of canyoning until yesterday and I got some sort of idea that it was like a triathalon of water sports - a combination of absailing and water slides and swinging through rapids, all within a canyon of course.
Well what we are doing is first and foremost absailing down waterfalls. This is fun but you spend a lot of time waiting for your turn. Thankfully there are only four of us along with two instructors: Brad, Ailsa, David and myself. David has been our tour guide through Ecuador and for professional reasons he has come along to see what he has been getting his clients into.
We are wearing wet suits, runners, helmets, some kind of water proof tops and harnesses that look like big yellow nappies. The rope is secured above and thread through some metal loops at the front of my harness. It then goes by my waist at the right. I hold it behind my back with my right hand. This creates enough tension to hold my weight. The rest of the rope dangles behind me down to the bottem of the fall. As I release the tension on the rope with my right hand I slowly lower myself down and I use my feet to walk backwards down the nearly vertical rocks. Basically the left hand has to stay out of the way.
There is also a guide rope the instructor above can secure in an emergency and the second instructor below is able pull on my rope and create enough tension in the harness to stop me.
I have been absailing a couple of times in the past but this time has a few added difficulties.
First - I am not wearing any gloves. This means I have to go slow. One of the fun things with absailing is jumping backwards and letting the rope out quickly. This way you can jump down several metres at a time and descend a cliff quickly. But if I try that without gloves all that rope threading quickly through my right hand will give me a nasty rope burn.
Second - the water on smooth rocks is super slippery. My footware has no grip. If I had known I would have worn my own Dunlop Volleys with a better tread - not that it would have made much difference. Normally, absailng on dry rock I would have good boots that would make me sure footed and I would be able to freely scramble from side to side. You can jump out from the rock and have fun bouncing around. Here I have to move carefully so I don't slip over. Its best to lean right back at a ninety degree angle to the rock surface so that all the pressure is directed straight at the rock.
We descend several falls. In general we avoid the stream of water. We go down beside the falls or where the water is shallowest. The rocks are usually still wet and slippery. The first falls are eight to twelve metres. Then we come to a fifteen metre fall and a thirty metre fall.
Now it is raining and cold. While we wait for our turn we move around to keep warm or else we huddle close to the rocks out of the light wind.
Near the top of one of the falls, I am not leaning back enough. My feet slip and I fall forward. My face mashes into the hard wet rock. Suddenly it's not so fun anymore. I make sure my rope is secure and that I am not going to fall. My nose is bleeding. I slowly get to my knees. The instructor is calling to me to climb back up but I don't feel like going anywhere just yet. It's safer to stay still for now.
My nose is sore but undamaged. I have had plenty of experience with blood noses and I want to wait a minute or two until it stops. Soon the blood flow has nearly stopped and I am ready to move on. I carefully get to my feet. I tell the instructor I would rather proceed down and he agrees that would be a better plan if I am up to it. I start down slowly but quickly regain me confidence and make it to the bottem without incident. By the time I start the next descent I am back to having fun again.
We have to go back up to the road before we make the final descent down a fourty-five metre fall. At this point we are looking like a pack of miserable wet bedragelled kittens. But courageous miserable wet bedraggled kittens none the less. Brad and Ailsa decide they have had enough fun for one day. They retire to the mini bus and drink cups of a sweet 'tea' that tastes like hot barley sugar water.
I decide to continue on to the final fall. Not that I expect to enjoy it but I want to complete the course. David will do it if and only if I will and I will so he does.
This drop is unlike the others. First for about a metre or two I have to descend, kneeling down, a rock which overhangs the falls. I decide not to look down so I can concentrate on the job at hand. Then I drop from the rock and I am hangin freely by the rope fourty-three metres up in front of a beautiful waterfall.
There is nothing for my feet to touch so the descent is actually easier and less dangerous than the others. I slowly release the rope and carefully lower myself down. I keep a good grip on the rope. A third of the way I feel comfortable enough to look down. I wonder what it would be like to let go of the rope and hang by the emergency rope. I push the thought out of my head. That's the sort of action that gets you a Darwin award.
I continue down at a slow and steady pace until I reach the bottem.
While David is coming down the instructor at the bottem tells me the falls are called 'silent falls'. I say they aren't silent and I can hear them quite well. He points to David and explains that if he falls from that height he will be silent. This is a good conversation considering he can't speak English and I can't speak Spanish.
The final descent was the best and I am glad I did it even though I am pretty sure that's how I got the rope burn on my right hand. My nose is a bit tender but not bruised or broken.
Back in Baños I pay $10 for a watch similar to the one I lost rafting. That's the whole point of a $5 watch. You don't have to be attached to it. It is replaceable. This new watch will always remind me of how I lost the last one.
Good times.
