October 1997 - The 'Shipton/Tilman' Route - Day 3 - October 13

Monday 13th October

Leisurely rise, then breakfast, then Sudhil arrives to explain that our anticipated drive to Debal will not take place, and that we will depart tomorrow.

Whilst this slows us down it brings us back onto schedule. So, instead of the day in Delhi, we have a chance to go white water rafting. The morning passes very slowly. We drive around Rishikesh with Sudhil and his trusty driver. There are lots of tolls. Set up by local committees to control traffic, receipts each time, lots of toll points, very tedious for all.

We eventually reach Sudhil's office, where he arranges the rafting with Mercury, and we sign disclaimers. Vicram then drives us up to Mercury's base, a few km upstream. 

Mercury's base by the Ganges

We are introduced to Anil Bist, our sirdar for the trek, and our rafting crew, which includes Annie, who some say is Swiss but seems American to me.

A drive about 10-15 km further upstream gets us to 'Marine Drive', where we stroll over a suspension bridge to a village and admire the diverse crops, which seem to flourish by the banks of the Ganga (Ganges). 

                                                           Crops by the Ganges

A view from near the start of our rafting journey

John waits for some action

Eventually the raft - a large Avon rubber dinghy (16 ft) - is assembled.

Raft and some crew

Lorna and Jason, an English couple on a 3-month trip around South Africa, Kenya, India and Thailand, appear. There are the six of us, four of whom are given oars, plus two crew - one of whom sits on the dry box in the centre of the boat and controls operations. I get the front starboard oar. I have changed into shorts, but others are less well prepared for this surprise add-on to our holiday.

The bridges have the hallmark of British engineering.

Looking back to footbridge over the Ganges

The view ahead, from the same spot

(For obvious reasons, cameras were stashed here so there are sadly no pictures of the rapids - Ed)

Whilst the rapids are quite gentle, they are vigorous enough for complete novices. I am slightly concerned at my rowing ability as on port at the front is John, an accomplished oarsman who rows his own 9 ft Avon dinghy around the Pembrokeshire coast.

We follow instructions: forward, backward, relax, 'if we capsize hold the string' etc, etc.

The first rapid is named 'Money Maker' after a famous and wealthy Indian, who had made money from selling bottled Ganges water. This gentle affair dampens those on the port side, and is followed by 'Black Money', named after the same individual, who owns land here and has a residence, 'The Glass House' near these two rapids, to which he flies (copters) up to from Delhi.

Next comes the most technical rapid in this stretch of river, graded 2+, 'Three Blind Mice' - which is three rapids in quick succession - most exhilarating. We all get drenched, especially the front oarsmen who need to lean forward to row in very rough water. Great fun.

'Crossfire' soon follows. There are competing cross currents here, which create whirlpools that need to be missed. A skilfully judged route takes us left close to rocks before exiting near swirling eddies.

A calm stretch leads to the best rapid of all - quite a gentle one named 'Body Surfer'. Here we all jump out of the raft. After immediately being run over by the raft - I'd obviously not jumped far enough, I wondered whether I was going on an underwater trip, but I clawed my way to the other side, missing Lorna who was apparently also underneath, and popped up like a cork to be free in the river. John was floating nearby, but the other four, whilst in the water, were all clinging onto the raft for dear life. They had gone along with the idea so as not to appear wimpish but couldn't bear to leave the security of the vessel, despite having life jackets and helmets. They were soon back on board. 

John and I soon perfected the technique we had been taught - legs forward and together with feet as high as possible; hands holding the breast straps of the life jacket, relaxing and letting the river do the work. Occasional hand strokes were needed to maintain direction in the strongest bit of rapid. We overtook the boat and chatted with Annie and the other two rescue/safety kayaks, and once the calm stretch after the rapid was gained we used hands to keep up with the rowers on the boat. John gave up here, but the water (17°C) seemed warm if exercise was used, so my yellow helmet bobbed happily in front of the raft until we reached the next rapid, when I was hauled back in. As expected, I felt cold, but it wasn't far to the beach camp, which was reached via 'Camp' or 'Shieparu Rapid', where the skill is to avoid a large 'hole' which flips the raft. John saw this 'hole' and said it looked deep.

Happy rafter at Mercury Beach Camp

We were soon at the Mercury beach camp, next to the Ganges on one side and the jungle on the other, where an excellent lunch was provided, and we dried out over hot coals. Lorna and Jason joined us and we chatted for a while. 

Lunchtime scene at Mercury Beach Camp

Whilst there were 50 plus staying here last night, they are the only ones tonight and would welcome our company. Sadly, we are booked into the (inferior except for price) Natraj Hotel, and soon we have to regain the raft to cross back over the rapid to the west Bank where Vicram is waiting.

On this crossing we spot something which looks like a body bobbing in an eddy by the rapid. We ask the raft driver "What is it?" "A body." was the answer. No explanation and no more said until later, when Anil (next day) tells us it is a corpse buried in the river higher up, which has caught in the eddy and has started to come out of the burial bag. No one seems too concerned. The man has been properly buried in the sacred Ganga. Pollution is not an issue.

And so, the end of a most memorable interlude.

Joro Spider at the beach camp

Vicram took us to Rishikesh, where we headed straight for Triveni Ghat to see the Aarti ceremony. The other three bought lamps made of leaves and grasses, and locals assisted them in floating them off.

We then strolled back to the main road via various shops where others bought nicknacks and Maharabat books. We stopped for a while to watch John having a haircut (20Rup), before heading, I thought, to the postcard shop. But a few yards before we reached it the others jumped on a trike, and I joined them for the ride to the hotel. Now on trek, we still have no postcards. Sorry everyone. I tried.

A good night's sleep followed, despite still troublesome bowels, after a brief meeting with Anita to discuss tomorrow's arrangements, and dinner in the hotel - the usual Indian mixture of dishes.

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