C&K mag #31ss- final - Canoe & Kayak

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INTERNATIONAL KAYAKING Down the Mekong Kelvin continues his quest to paddle 7 rivers and to raise both awareness and funds for Save the Children. Laos The <strong>mag</strong>ical 5 weeks I spent paddling down the Mekong’s muddy, swirling waters started in the Laos capital of Vientiane - such a quiet, relaxed place that it feels more like a small town than a capital city. As I set off down the 1km wide river with Laos on my left and Thailand on my right, I knew that communicating with the locals was going to be a challenge; then there were the sections of rapids to negotiate in the south; the possibility of getting lost and tossed over a waterfall in the 4000 islands and the incredibly hot and humid climate. But even with these concerns, my general feeling was one of excitement! My Laos phrasebook was on the whole flippin useless, I could tell people that my room was flooded and I didn’t want MSG in my noodle soup but I couldn’t ask what village I was in! Luckily, it did have the phrase for “can I stay here the night please?” which, if you say it quickly enough sounds a bit like “kick you in the balls!” This is difficult to forget and I got quite proficient in asking people whether I could stay with them without referring to the phrasebook. The only other phrase that I managed to learn by heart was “thank you”, not just because it sounded like “gobshite” but also because the hospitality of the Lao people was so overwhelming. Each evening, about an hour before sunset I would find a small fishing village and ask if I could stay. The Mekong is populated along virtually its entire length on fertile silt covered banks. Generally the whole village (sometimes 150 - 200 people!) would rush out to see the funny Barang (white guy) and his strange air-filled boat. They then would help to carry all my gear up to a patch of ground in the middle of the village where I could pitch my tent. THE CIRCUS HAD COME TO TOWN! From then on I was the entertainment for the evening, everything I did from clowning around with the kids to cooking my noodles and erecting my funny little tent was followed intently by 100’s of eyes and accompanied by excited ooh’s and ah’s. My favourite time of the day was swim time when all the kids would run down to the river with me and the crazy white monster would roar and splash and chase them around until he was totally exhausted! Most of the time I was only able to communicate in sign language but occasionally there would be an old man in the village that grew up during the French occupation and thus could speak French. Sadly, I can’t speak French either! OK, its better than my Lao and doesn’t involve kicking anyone in the balls as I did study it for 5 years in school but it was still very frustrating and our conversations were limited to the weather (tres beau!) and questions about my family. Evenings spent in these small fishing villages were highlights of my Mekong trip, but most of the time was actually spent paddling my canoe (funny that). As on the Murray I enjoyed the simple routine of the paddle strokes and let my mind wander in any and every direction. The weather was less of a concern than in Oz. I barely saw a single cloud for the entire 5 weeks on the river and although the days were hot and sunny, there was generally a cooling breeze to take the edge off. Another great thing about the Mekong was its speed. It really shifted and helped me to do between 15 and 20 kms more a day than the Murray. This meant that I could stop in small towns for a couple of days at a time and see a bit of the countryside without worrying about having to rush later on. In Savannakhet (southern Laos) my arrival coincided with a full moon festival at a Buddhist stupa and I spent a very surreal evening wandering around 6 ISSUE THIRTYone • 2005 by Kelvin Oram with 1000’s of other people amongst the bouncy castles, fairground stalls, live music stages, fried frog sellers and Buddhist monks. It was a bit overwhelming! After about 2 weeks on the river I had to face my demons. Ever since a neardeath experience in Bolivia involving a whirlpool, an inflatable canoe and me, I have had a healthy respect (buttock-clenching fear!) for white water and strong currents. I had been warned that north of Pakxe the Mekong splits into smaller channels around islands and rocks with sections of gentle rapids. In my open canoe, low in the water I entered the first set of rapids with white knuckles and a life jacket. They never really got above grade 2, fluffy, bumpy - not life threatening in any way but I still got wet. After every fast section I had to pull up, empty the water out and gather myself for the next bit. On the second day of this I came to a gorge where the river was forced through a narrow gap. It didn’t look very friendly. The high sides prevented a portage (carrying the boat around). Eventually after a long pause and a series of highly necessary sphincter exercises I went for it. A couple of fishermen scrambled to a better vantage point to watch the entertainment. As I entered the gorge huge whirlpools formed in front and to the side of me. I had never paddled with so much enthusiasm. Through luck/desperation/sheer fekkin terror I managed to avoid being turned into a Kelvin Mekong shake. Emerging in the eddies on the other side of the gap I thought, “I didn’t enjoy that very much!” A few km’s downriver I spoke to a French speaking restaurant owner. I didn’t need my old French teacher to translate his words of advice about the next section of the river; “tres, tres dangereux’ and “beaucoup de rapides!” That night I stayed in the only guest house in town and the next day caught a bus to avoid the ‘rapides terribles’! I was happy to be past the worst of the whitewater in Laos but I couldn’t help thinking that I’d let myself and others down in skipping a section out of fear. The next challenge I faced was ‘Si Pan Don’ or ‘the 4000 islands’ on the border with Cambodia. A fellow kayaker in Vientiene had warned me “Be sure to follow the correct channel to the southern island of Don Det or you could be swept into the grade 6 rapids and over a 10m (30foot) waterfall into Cambodia!” This seemed like sound advice and I tried to follow it...really I did! But I got hopelessly lost in the maze of islands and ended up on the wrong side of the wrong island in a channel (luckily very shallow) which flowed over a 30ft waterfall. I still don’t know how I missed the safe channel and just thank the river goddess that it was the dry season and I could drag my canoe away from the falls. It took me a couple of hours of sweating and swearing before I could get back into my boat and paddle round to the right channel and by the time I got to my riverside bungalow I was absolutely shagged (but alive!).
Cambodia Here I heard about the terrible earthquakes near Indonesia and the devastation that the tidal wave caused. What a terrible tragedy, like something from a Hollywood disaster movie only infinitely more tragic with no hero to save the day. Maybe with so many tourists killed the world media will be more interested than past natural disasters and aid will reach the areas affected quicker. I paddled over the Lao border and arrived at the Cambodian border post. The guards greeted me, shared their lunch and told me that between the border and the next town were dangerously strong currents and whirlpools...NOT AGAIN! I reluctantly got into a motorboat with two guards who gave me a lift to Stung treng (the next town). Each time we passed a particularly nasty looking section I felt a tap on my shoulder and the guards would point at the swirling current, laugh and draw their fingers across their throats and point at me and my boat, hilarious! Seeing the size of some of the waves and whirlpools I knew they hadn’t exaggerated. Then I learnt that just north of Kratie, the next town, was a series of rapids worse than anything that I’d seen so far! Resigned to my fate and still feeling like I was cheating, I got another ferry to Kratie. Eventually I got back in my own boat to enjoy the next 300km to Phnom Penh. For the next week I happily paddled through the Cambodian countryside, stopping in small villages and free camping on large sandbars. I paddled into Phnom Penh (the <strong>final</strong> stretch being upriver as it lies on the Tonle Sap river!) elated to have finished my Mekong journey but sad that I hadn’t been able to paddle the whole way. I will remember Laos and Cambodia, two of the poorest countries in the world, for the unbelievable kindness of people who have so little. They should be an inspiration to all of us in the west who have so much. Next stop Borneo and the Kinabatangan! ISSUE THIRTYone • 2005 7
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C&K mag #31ss- final - Canoe & Kayak

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