Adventure Quest Africa (2)
Leg 9: 30km Paddle
Cindy Van Zyl / 03.09.2002
T8 – T9: Drennan – Witmoss
1:00 am: After some jungle oats and song (Maandag se jungle oats is soet soos stroop, Dinsdag se jungle oats is soet soos stroop, Woensdag se jungle oats is soet soos stroop, etc.) we waterproofed our bags, portaged our boats to the river and set off on the 30km night-paddle.
The river flowed swiftly and we made good time. In the black of night we weaved past dangerous strainers and shot a hairy weir. Much to Riaan’s horror we also squeezed and forced our fat boats right under a low-level bridge that stood a mere 0.5-meter above the water’s surface; our long-legged Jabberwock had nowhere to hide his legs and had to scrape them along the roof of the low bridge.
The river broadened into a black dam and a mean headwind started chopping up the dead water. Out of the rhythm of each paddle stroke and out of the cavern of the howling wind, the sleep monster was resurrected. From the zigzag of Kobus and Riaan’s croc it was clear that Morpheus was victorious. I could also feel Brian drifting off behind me and soon we landed up in the reeds.
“Kobus, hoe lank is die dam section nog?� A long silence followed upon which Kobus retorted with: �Nee man, ek weet nie; hoekom raai julle nie nou n slag nie!� We did not ask again.
My pleas for a bit of chat finally inspired Brian to speak the most incomprehensible nonsense, without pause, for the next hour. The man has a gift! His act may have entertained some and may have annoyed others, but it had the desired effect; it kept us and all the birds along the riverbank awake!
In the far distance we could see the dam wall looming, eerie and grey under the yellow floodlights. We approached it with much caution. Kobus and Riaan paddled up and down along the enormous sluice gates looking for a gap to shoot the damn wall. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Judging by the sound of the water the drop was at least 20 metres high…
By the grace of God the sluices were firmly shut and Kobus was satisfied that the drop was maybe a bit too much for four sleep-deprived souls in inflatable crocs. We dragged our boats up and over the dam wall and set out to paddle the next few kilometres along the river. As the first grey light of day started to show, we arrived at the Witmoss Bridge and punched in at T9. The wind was howling, but we didn’t care anymore. Our seconds looked tired. It has been a long, tough race for them as well.
After scrambled eggs we set out on the final biking leg of the Quest. The end was in sight! Only 75km to go!
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