i Editor's Letter: The Olympic Rapids

 

Oliver Duff
Sunday 04 August 2013 23:55 BST
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

Boat number 14, come in... oh no, you’ve capsized.

We were at the Olympic rapids in the Lee Valley, Hertfordshire, to try white water rafting – a belated Christmas present from my brother, after the canoeing authorities opened the course to the public. Once they turn up the pumps it doesn’t take very long to make your way down the grade-4 cascades – about two minutes in a boat, or one minute without.

On land, we were given the safety briefing on avoiding Weil’s disease, broken teeth and fingers. We learnt how to swim flat, feet first, over boulders and waterfalls if we fell out. We even successfully boarded the craft. But then things began to go a bit wobbly.

Our start was inauspicious: the serene training paddle on a flat lake was interrupted when we somehow managed to tip all nine of us from the raft and get sucked towards the filtration bars – a bit like that scene in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory when Willy Wonka/Gene Wilder finds Charlie and Grandpa Joe being drawn into the ceiling fan. Our instructor, Richard, began to look a little peaky.

Back onboard, we went for a full-throttle kamikaze assault from the top. We were hopeless. Where other teams of amateur rafters paddled up rapids, we span down them backwards, trapping ourselves in eddies and grounding on plastic rocks.

“One more try guys!” bellowed Richard. We dug in our paddles, hit turbulence and were hurled from the boat – fired, spluttering, over chutes and falls; a jumble of legs, safety ropes and liberated paddles. A legacy of laughs, at least.

i@independent.co.uk

Twitter.com: @olyduff

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in