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Paddling The
Lower Luangwa
By John Coppinger
(Travelogue of
canoeing trip, February, 2005)
This river never
ceases to fascinate me. How many rivers are there left on earth that
flow for over 1,000kms and are still as untouched, remote, healthy
and scenically beautiful as the Luangwa? No dams, no commercial
agriculture, no livestock. Certainly no other river in Africa can
make such A claim.
In some respects
it is even more undeveloped than it used to be. Lane Poole, who
travelled the Luangwa in 1918, describes how a man named Highfield,
at the turn of the 19th century, grew cotton and ran a herd of close
on 100 cattle at Mzaza, along what is today the southern boundary of
the South Luangwa National Park, near the Mpupishi/Luangwa
confluence. Further south, at the Mvuvye confluence, was Fort
Hargreaves, set up by the North Charterland Exploration Company
around the same era. Many of the men and their families that were
stationed there now rest in unkempt graves, having all succumbed to
sleeping sickness, blackwater fever, or other tropical diseases.
Highfield also retreated, following the encroachment of the tsetse
fly and rinderpest.
A week ago I was
there, fighting through the dense undergrowth, searching for signs
of what was Mzaza. I could not believe that the place had ever been
inhabited. Not a single sign. After an hour battling my way through
similar impenetrable thickets and being stung by wild nettles, I did
find some remnants of Fort Hargreaves: just 3 mounds of old stone
foundations remained, together with a few sisal plants gone wild. No
sign of the cemetery nor citrus trees, as Lane Poole described. We
camped there for the night, on the banks of the Luangwa, a most
beautiful stretch of river with the dramatic backdrop of the
Chinsimbwe Hills to the east and Chitundulu Hills to the west.
Totally remote, 100 years after Thornicroft (discoverer of our
giraffe) and Hayes first manned the fort.
 We
had paddled 4 days from Mfuwe to reach this point, a distance of 202
river kms. Our aim was to reach the Zambezi, a further 268 kms. My
wife, Carol, and I were paddling one canoe and Ed Sayer (Mwaleshi
Camp Manager) and Hugo van der Westhuizen (North Luangwa
Conservation Project) were in another.
This was my third
canoe expedition on the Luangwa: in 1993 I organized a trip from
Marula Puku in North Luangwa down the Lubonga and Mwaleshi, into the
Luangwa and on to the Zambezi on this trip, the longest ever canoe
expedition on the Luangwa as far as we know, a huge crocodile
crashed it's jaws through my canoe and we were constantly harassed
by the beasts along the Mwaleshi river. In 2001 we paddled from
Kampumbu (the most northerly point of access and 45kms from the
Luangwa source) to Tafika and once again adjacent to the North
Luangwa National Park we encountered horrible behaviour by huge
crocs most notably on one occasion when a monster took hold of my
brother's canoe, it's jaws just inches from his backside.
On this safari,
by contrast, the crocs had so far been remarkably well behaved and
indeed I was surprised at how few we saw. Hippos were abundant, as
ever, but civil, this being a time of plenty for them. Our greatest
concern was the rapids ahead, which we expected to encounter on Day
6. Derek Shenton and his brother Rolf led an expedition in 2001 that
came to a tragic end here: their motorized craft sank in the first
rapid a Game Scout that was accompanying them never re-surfaced and
Rolf almost suffered the same fate, having been sucked down by
powerful eddies for a seemingly interminable period of time.
The water level
was comparatively low now and we knew this meant that the rapids
were likely to be even more violent. Lane Poole lists 5 rapids, the
most dangerous being the first, Chipinda cha Nyanga ('place of bad
spirits'), which acquired it's name from the capsizing of a cargo of
ivory, transported by Portuguese traders in a bygone era.
The entrance to
the gorge was breathtakingly beautiful - lush green trees up the
banks and hillsides, with boulders haphazardly lining the riverbank.
Our awe was perhaps enhanced by our mounting trepidation. We berthed
just upstream of the first rapid to scout around. The turbulence was
even greater than we had anticipated and the butterflies started as
we weighed up our options. A rapid which would represent mild fun in
a kayak took on nerve wracking proportions. The stakes were high a
sunk or damaged canoe could be quite disastrous. Even more sobering
were the fresh signs of a large croc just downstream of the rapid.
Hugo and Ed nobly
offered to go first and they entered the rapid with much shouting
and whooping. Their entrance was good and just when I thought they
were safely through they suddenly dipped to one side and capsized.
They both held on to the canoe and Hugo even managed to climb back
in once it was righted but, being already flooded, it could not bear
his weight and he was forced to jump back into the croc infested
water and help guide the canoe back to shore. Now it was our turn
Carol and I left them drying out their kit and scrambled back over
the rocks upstream to where our canoe was tethered. As we were
preparing to launch, Hugo saw a huge croc surface briefly in the
middle of the rapid he decided not to shout and warn us, as this
would have only increased the tension. Instead Ed had the shotgun at
the ready whilst Hugo positioned himself to take photographs. With
hearts in our mouths and paddling for all we were worth, we attacked
the rapid - almost before we knew it we were through, our victory
cries echoing back from the gorge walls.
We paddled on
through a few lesser rapids, soaking in the natural beauty of the
gorge. A large troop of Moloney's monkeys sauntered along the bank,
showing surprisingly little interest in our flotilla of canoes. We
saw Crested Guinea Fowls which was a lifer for most of us. The next
major rapid was divided in two parts and Hugo and Ed capsized yet
again in the first section. The humorous side of the situation was
becoming more difficult to appreciate, especially given that their
gear was again soaked, night was approaching, the second section of
the rapid was more difficult, we were in a completely inaccessible
area and again there were fresh signs of crocs on the banks.
However, it was a beautiful spot and we set up camp within 50 metres
of where we had seen a pride of lions stalking a waterbuck being
wild lions they had run off as soon as they saw us.
The next morning,
despite Carol's eagerness to run the rapid and really show up the
all male team, good sense prevailed and we found a way of roping our
canoes along the edge of the river and we launched again below the
rapid. We came upon one more dangerous section of white water
through which we again laboriously inched our way along the edge
through to calmer waters beyond.
Beyond the gorge
the river is sparsely populated by subsistence farmers and
fishermen, but the habitation does not extend beyond the very edge
of the river. There are another two spectacular gorges and below
the Great East Road bridge is a wonderfully scenic floodplain,
covered in dense reed beds, and through which the main channel is
often difficult to follow.
At the confluence
with the Zambezi is Luangwa Boma, formerly Feira, where colourful
pioneer characters such as Changa Changa Harrison Clark resided over
a hundred years ago. This was the original frontier settlement from
which the early traders and pioneers accessed the interior of what
is now Zambia.
Today there is no
trade along the Luangwa. Nature prevails.
After 9 days of
paddling we glided into the clear waters of the Zambezi. I had
achieved a life's ambition I had now canoed the entire length of
the river, on whose banks I have lived for 21 years. |
May 2005