Willis to Buchan The Wet Way

Day 1: Willis

I am lying across the back deck of my boat, my face is banging down the rocks of the rapid like a child's ball bouncing down the stairs. "Must find my paddle and roll up," "where is my paddle?", "my nose hurts," "this is giving me a corking headache" It is amazing how quickly our twitchy brains can run on in what is really mere seconds between dropping into a hole, capsizing, and running a rapid upside down pinned on the back deck.

My typical river view

When my paddle parted company from my hand, I finally did the smart thing which was get out, roll-over and using my feet and legs as shock-absorbers bump down the rest of the rapid into the pool below. I managed to grab my boat as it floated by but the paddle was left for Wildey to scoop up. With help from Doug, I swam to the side of the river and gave my head a shake.

Kangaroos near Willis

We are somewhere downstream of Willis on the Snowy River before the planned November release has reached this far down the river so the water level is, by Wildey's guess around 0.8 metre. As it turns out, the gauge at McKillops bridge is reading 0.78 metre, so John's estimate is a pretty accurate.

McKillops Bridge

This is our easy introduction day. It has been at least 25 years since Doug and I have paddled whitewater. In that time, the entire sport has changed from the days when we all paddled long Dancer's and maneuvered cautiously down-river to the now ubiquitous stubby nosed highly responsive short creekers that have spawned a whole genre of new kayak moves - boofs, mystery moves, air screws and space godzillas - that make river running an increasingly technical and athletic endeavor.

Wildey waiting to see if any pieces need picking up

Wildey has run this river so many times at so many vastly differing water levels, sometimes solo, other times with more or less competent paddlers that he is the perfect guide. He knows all the rapids, can efficiently instruct beginners, and somehow manages to convey a general air of competence that makes you think this is a perfectly safe endeavor.

Wildey demonstrating standard paddle signals

My goal is simply to track him down-river following his route through the rapids as near to perfectly as I can. Sometimes I succeed but more often than not, John quietly says "you could have been just a little more left... or right ... or central..." - or even right side up - "on that one." My memories, which are now hazy with the dust of 25 years, are of being pushed around by the river and I tend to hang too far back from the boats ahead to really follow as diligently as I should. The other problem, of course, is that my repertoire of strokes is pretty small, and my Prijon Creeker 225 is way more boat than I am paddler.

More of my precision steering

But it is a fantastic trip. The first day, is hot and sunny, and, apart from my nose banging flip, I manage to stay in my boat through all the rapids which are easy at this water level. Many grade 1 rock races and grade 2 drops. All the rapids end in big pools so swims are non-threatening, and, unlike Canadian rivers, there are no strainers and the water will not immediately induce hypothermia.

River running

We cover 35 kilometres on the first day, and there are plenty of rapids to refine my rudimentary paddle skills in. Wildey gives me some helpful tips yet despite trying I cannot master the quick break-outs that John and even Doug manage into small eddies and mostly wash through everything to the slower moving pools at the bottom.

The view from McKillops Bridge

The river is pretty with dry eucalpyt hill-sides rising 700 metres above; there are sandy beaches, and rocky gorges. Brightly coloured water dragons plop into the water as we pass and we see many eagles in the trees lining the river. Late in the day we reach McKillops Bridge and walk up onto the bridge to admire the river valley from above. We run another couple of rapids and then make camp on a grassy bench above a small beach. A steady north wind is blowing and I have a throbbing headache from my head pounding so I rest on the grass for a while after swimming in the river.

Looking down on Dead Horse Camp

Before dusk, as the day cools down, I walk up the steep but open hill-side above camp and encounter a large rotting dead horse. As the sun sets, the wind dies and soon our entire camp is saturated with the sickening smell of rotting carrion. We call this spot "dead horse camp."

Soft evening light on the Snowy River

Day 2: Loch Ard Gorge:

Overnight the water from the dam release reaches us and the river is almost twice the height of the day before. I have some trepidation starting out at higher water, expecting pushier rapids, but Wildey has assured me that I can portage anything I don't want to paddle.

Warm-up rapids

Below us is the most popular section of the river, with the highest concentration of grade 3 rapids where the river runs through the scenic Loch Ard Gorge. The A Frame rapid marks the start of the gorge and Little Annie the end. In between are George's Mistake and the Washing Machine, as well as a plethora of other rapids.

Water that looks big to me

We are glad to leave Dead Horse camp behind and paddle downstream to fresher air. The rapids come quickly and are engaging. My favourite is the Boulder Garden, a roughly three kilometre section of river which requires some maneuvering around the rocks as the river winds around Campbell Knob.

The Creeker in bigger water

In the last rapid before the Compressor, I stall in a hole and flip again. No nose bumping this time, as the water is deep and forgiving, but I blow my two attempts at a roll, the first by rushing, the second as the blade orientation is wrong. By the time I bail, I've got so disoriented that I think Doug and John are trying to shepherd me back upstream.

Wildey below the Compressor

The next rapid is the Compressor, big water right now, but straight-forward if you paddle the right line. My confidence has been damaged, however, and I opt to walk around while Doug runs it twice, a second time in my boat, saving me a boulder strewn portage.

Doug running the Compressor

Soon we are running the final rapid above the A Frame where we break out into a small eddy on river right. I am a bit nervous of this rapid as the usual route, to river left involves running a narrow shoot and a rapid right turn. It would be easy to get pushed against the small cliff river left or miss the right turn and impact the rocks at the bottom.

The Creeker pointed correctly for a change

Doug and John take the left hand route while I manage to sneak down a similarly narrow chute - the chicken chute - to river right. In lower water this would be non-navigable as only a small amount of river flow runs down this side and I do have to bump over a boulder in the middle of the channel.

Wildey lining up for Georges Mistake

Soon we reach George's Mistake, a two stage rapid of two larger drops with various rocks and holes in the rapid. It is easy to land river left and clamber over big boulders to inspect it. Apparently, if you blow the first rapid there is insufficient time to recover before the second rapid. I am a bit intimidated by the volume of water and the size of the holes so portaging is a no-brainer for me. Wildey expertly runs both drops while Doug portages the top and runs the bottom.

Doug just visible above Wildey 

and buried in whitewater

The portage is safe but hard work as the loaded boats have to be lifted over big boulders and through thick blackberry which wraps spiny tendrils around our legs.

Portaging takes a long time and the day is lengthening when we reach the Washing Machine. One more big rapid (Gentle Annie) after this and we will have paddled Loch Ard Gorge. The forecast for the next day is for heavy rain so we want to get through the gorge before the rain starts. Trying to portage wet slippery rocks in heavy rain will be no fun.

Wildey in his element

We pull into a small eddy above the Washing Machine. I am last in and nervous of being washed out and don't quite understand John's instructions on how to run this rapid. He says something about "boofing" off a rock in the middle of the rapid, but I am not sure which rock I am supposed to boof off and really what is boofing anyway?

Experts always make everything look easy

But, I have such faith in this crazy Wilde by name Wilde by nature guy that when he takes off and sails down the Washing Machine and holds his paddle up for me to follow I do so without thinking. Of course, I am too far right and hit the biggest hole on the rapid. My entire boat sinks, apparently this is a mystery move. It's a mystery to me, as the next thing I remember is a strange sensation of air flying by my face as the boat backflips from bow to stern - a reverse loop according to Wildey. It would be impressive had I done any of this deliberately. I have a brief but violent tumble in the Washing Machine before getting washed out the bottom. This time I am too disoriented to attempt a roll and bail out for a long swim to shore. Doug boofs down calmly behind me.

Wildey getting some air time

Finally, we reach Gentle Annie, the last big rapid that marks the end of Loch Ard Gorge. It has been a fun, wild, scenic ride, and, despite two swims, I have enjoyed it immensely. Gentle Annie is a large powerful rocky rapid with big holes and nasty spots for beginners to get trashed so while Wildey runs it confidently, Doug and I portage around on river right.

Wildey running Gentle Annie

Just as we finish our portage, the cold front arrives with strong winds and clouds scudding across the sky rapidly coalescing into a solid grey ceiling. About 500 metres downstream is a good campsite by Mountain Creek with clear fresh water draining out of the hills and protected grassy camping.

View up river from camp

As the rain starts, we quickly unpack, make camp, get out of soaking clothes and into dry ones and dive into our tents for the night. We have now paddled almost 70 kilometres down river and I have lost count of all the rapids we have run.

View from camp

Day 3: Buchan River

The mist lying over the river gorge is pretty in the morning and the sky looks to be brightening a little. However, as we take the tent down, the rain begins and continues heavily, with thunder and lightening for the next several hours. There are still lots of rapids to paddle and the river remains high. There are only two or three bigger rapids however where we need to be careful to avoid smashing into rock walls or being engulfed by wave trains.

Running rapids in heavy rain

My goal for the day is to avoid swimming which I manage, but towards the end of the day I think only just. The longer we sit in the teeming rain, the colder and stiffer I get and lining up to hit the rapids right behind Wildey seems to get harder and harder. There are a couple of bigger rapids with long wave trains which are fun, but when the rain is really heavy it is hard to see well enough to avoid rocks and I bump more than a few.

Gorge scenery along the river

This section of the river is really scenic as we paddle under the huge New Guinea cliff and through yet another rocky gorge. At times however, the rain is so heavy it is hard to see. At Jacksons Ford we pull out for a short break and then continue down river. The side creeks are all running now and we paddle up a short distance up Basin Creek to see the falls.

Doug and Wildey paddling past New Guinea

As we paddle down river the rapids get more widely spaced and the slower moving pools more prominent. Beyond the narrow gorge we start to catch glimpses of farmland above.

Wildey deliberately facing upstream, 

Me, more inadvertant

Just after a sharp bend in the river, John turns abruptly to river right and disappears. We have reached the confluence with the Buchan River and the great Snowy River trip is over.

Wildey giving us a wave after 

expertly running Gentle Annie

This trip would not have been possible without the expert guidance and fulsome encouragement of John Wilde. Wildey, I owe you an entire cellar of Green Ginger Wine.

I owe you Wildey

View the video here.