Back in Chile

It’s the last week of October when I leave my beloved Africa behind and fly back to my second-favourite continent. I’m back in Chile baby!!
The fun immediately kicks off, as I’m meeting up with Blaise and his friends to go on a week-long kayak roadtrip. But first I need to fix my car.

Upon arrival it has a dead battery, a flat tire and the handbrake is rusted up. The battery and tire are an easy fix, but the brakes are more difficult. I spend a couple hours trying to fix it, then figure I should just try to drive off in 4×4 low gear. It works wonders. We’re good to go… although.. wait.. on my first little test drive I find out -mid corner- that the car doesn’t idle anymore and basically dies when running stationary. Maybe doesn’t sound too bad, until you realise that if the engine dies, power steering and brake assistance also stop working, which is all but convenient in mid-corner.

Briefly I consider going to a mechanic which would probably mean missing out on a couple of paddling days. But setting my priorities straight I decide my best option is to simply not accept the existence of any problem. Besides, turning on the airconditioning raises the idle rpm just enough for the engine not to stall anymore. Non-existent problem solved!

First stop is the río Teno, where we get a warm welcome by Felipe who runs the small tourism office. It’s still low season so he isn’t too busy and even offers to run shuttle for us in exchange for a pizza.

The rivers is a nice starter, although I can’t deny I’m a little bit rusty. Even the Zambezi didn’t change that. Thanks to Felipe’s help we even manage to do a lap on the nearby río Blanco which proves to be a nice and easy stress-free river with some really clear water.
Then Felipe generously offers us to stay in his house for the night. It’s perfect for us, since Nico and Noé cannot sleep in a car, and now don’t have to bother with setting up a tent. In the morning Felipe even makes home made bread.. it’s delicious!

It’s tempting to stay longer, but other rivers are waiting. Unfortunately, given the amounts of rain during the last couple of days, the Achibueno is bursting its banks and has basically become unrunnable for mere mortals like us. So we continu further south to río Ñuble.

We’re told that the Ñuble also has high water now (apparently 3 times the usual flow) but at least it’s still runnable if not a bit flattened out. Still a few big waves but mostly just a very wide river. Still fun though.

We have some difficulty finding an adequate camping spot for the night, but a local farmer tells us we can set up our tents on his grassy patch next to the river. Just don’t mind the goats and sheep that will be passing by every now and then.

While having fun in the rivers, Noé and I are getting rather frustrated with the Frenchness of the French. The common language amongst the five of us is English, but Blaise, Nico and Flore are constantly speaking French, basically keeping me and Noé out of their conversations.

After another run on a more upper stretch of the Ñuble we head to Siete Tazas, a national park that is home to a river with the perfect beginner waterfalls. As in, a perfect place for kayakers to learn how to run waterfalls.

Unfortunately we are greeted by more rain and the next day we’re forced into hiding in the car. Or well, that was me at least. The others go for walks, I just stay in and around the car, practicing some drawing, a new hobby I picked up recently.

We head back to Siete Tazas the next morning and then something happens.. to this day I don’t really know what. Somehow we end up doing a different stretch of river than originally planned. We end up climbing down into a canyon just above a 2 metre drop.. after we run it, we are committed: only one way out now, and that exit is downriver.
This section is definitely not the perfect place to learn how to run waterfalls. One should definitely have some experience with waterfalls, which most of us do not. But we all start off pretty well, manage to do an 8 metre high drop without problems.. so who cares really??

I start to care a little bit when I mess up a very narrow stretch where the canyon is barely more than 1 metre wide. I flip on the entry, and with rolling up not an option I fear getting stuck with the kayak. So I decide to swim. One of my shoes gets stuck in the boat however, so still I get to do this crux section under water. Luckily, I don’t get hurt, but the reality that we are somewhat in over our heads is starting to dawn on me.

As we get to another waterfall, it turns out to be a double drop, a 2 metre drop right after a 3 metre drop. Although it is essential to nail the first drop, instructions for me somehow get lost in translation, and I go off it aiming to the right where I should have been aiming to the left. It lands me in very boily water, that slows me down dramatically and I go down the second drop without speed. When I land I still think I’ve made it, but then the current pulls me back into the waterfalls and pushes me under. I try to get out but somehow I do not resurface. Even after I exit the kayak I’m being held down by the water.

This is the first time this has ever happened to me, and it’s fucking scary. Being non-aquatic and a mammal, I kinda need my oxigen, but seconds pass without me resurfacing. For a split second the ominous thought of “man, this is how it ends” shoots through my mind but then I feel rocks under my feet, push off as hard as I can and a second or two later breath in air again. Man, that was fucking scary!!

My kayak however doesn’t come out of the recirculating water, and with us being in an overhanging canyon there’s no other option then for me to swim the remaining part of the section.

As it turns out, the double drop is the last real drop of the section and the canyon soon opens up enough for me to climb out and walk back to camp. Man, for something to go this wrong, it couldn’t have happened in a better spot. I really would not have liked having to swim another 5 or 6 metre high waterfall!!!

That night everyone except me is elated. We meet some American kayakers in the camp site and we share some of our ordeal (in total we had 6 swims). Yeah man, we did 22 saltos, as the section is apparently known. Ow yeah!! Not only are they completely oblivious to the fact that I just lost my kayak an hour ago, but all of a sudden the Frenchies have mysteriously mastered the art of speaking English. It fucking pisses me off and it sends me into a rant about how freaking idiotic this day has been, and how incredibly dumb it is to celebrate a day where we were in way over our heads. My rant is met with silence.

First thing I do the next morning is walk to the river. It rained the whole night, and the water level is way up compared to yesterday. I have some hope the kayak may have flushed. At first no sign of it though. I keep clambering upriver and just as I’m about to give up, I see my big orange kayak floating upside down in an eddie… I rush over, take off my pants, almost jump in the water but realise it’s rather cold and don’t want to get wet.. And then wait until it floats close so I can get it without getting too wet. Oh, my precious! Reunited!!! One of the Frenchies says something like you see, it wasn’t bad after all. I resist the urge to go into another tirade.

With the river being too high now, we need to change plans. There’s been lots of rain all over the region, so most rivers will be no option for us. We decide to go back to río Teno, where we once again get to stay with Felipe. This time, instead of pizza, we have an asado at his place. It is so wonderful that he welcomes us into his home and as a thank you I try my utmost to talk to him and his wife, even though my Spanish has definitely taken a turn for the worse after three months without practice. The Frenchies will do no such thing though.. they even continue speaking French while we’re invited to spend the night in his house. It’s so French.

It definitely affects the mood I’m in, and when we get to the Achibueno for a second try, I don’t really feel like paddling. Which, honestly, is not that unconvenient, as it is not the easiest river for me. Halfway down the first stretch I decide to not continue. I’m simply not comfortable and I don’t want to swim the rocky rapids. It’s the first time -ever, I think- that I walked away from a river. Either I’m getting scared, or I’m getting wise.. I’m guessing scared..

We close off our paddle week by giving the real Siete Tazas a second chance. We climb down to the river entry and upon seeing the first drop, I immediately decide I’m not doing it. It simply looks too difficult for me. It takes me a while to realise the others share my reservations and we end up not running it. It’s a bit of a disappointment, but for a first week back in Chile I’ve kinda had enough excitement!