From some experience as a perennial applicant, the MCSA-Stellenbosch’s briefing e-mails are famously terse and lacking in detail. When I did Visgat with them for instance, no one mentioned that a  lilo may be useful – so I am probably one of the few to go down that canyon on a camping mattress. A recent e-mail about an abseiling trip stated baldly: Geen hoogtevrees! (no fear of heights!). Not exactly encouraging if this was going to be only your second abseil and you are a little apprehensive…

And so it was with the Witels too to an extent. I knew there’d be swimming and that my pack would have to be waterproof, and that there’d be some bouldering. But the 1000m climb and subsequent descent down “Happy Hill” to reach the Witels canyon came as a slight surprise. It was a good thing that we tackled the climb in the early morning and in the shade because the gradient is steep and the day turned out to be fairly hot. We entered the kloof just below Barrier Falls at about midday and settled into camp at Disa Camp with all other sound drowned out by the din of nearby Disa Falls. The sound of falling water makes for sound sleep though.

Day 2 dawned warm and windless – which was good because it involved a number of wades and swims, 10 swims in all, with the longest being Swim 7 which is about 200 m in length. Swims involve floating your pack and swimming it through a slot canyon that is otherwise impassable. We lunched at The Alder Ring which would also be a great place to camp (Witels derives its name from the Afrikaans for “white alder”). I found the boulder-hopping with full-pack and the longer swims, which I had to tackle with my boots on, quite tiring. On the other hand the heat of the day made the swims pleasant and refreshing.

We camped at Whiskey Camp which features a number of flat, sandy sites nestled in rock and bush – a nice camp. However, I discovered that the dry bag that contained my sleeping bag was anything but. Luckily the warm evening breeze dried the sleeping bag quickly. An excellent supper of pasta with ham, cheese and mushroom sauce amounted to the best food I’ve made for myself on any trail, although that may have had something to do with the energy that I burned on that day (a few kg’s were lost in total, which pleased me greatly)…

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If the track doesn’t appear in the window above or you don’t want to install the plugin in your browser, then download the Google Earth Witels file and view it in Google Earth (download Google Earth)

Day 3 involved plenty of wading but only two swims and took us through the spectacular Happy Valley. Near Boulder Camp we came across some fly-fishermen who had worked their way upriver from the canyon mouth. We camped at Leopard Camp under a threatening sky while the fishermen wisely gapped it.

During the night the rain started but I had made a bivvy from my sieve-like groundsheet and poncho and actually had a great, dry sleep. At sunrise the weather had closed in and we decided to hike out without breakfast. The last couple of kays to the Witels-Dwars confluence were the most difficult and lousiest of the trip. Alien Port Jackson willow has penetrated to just below Leopard Camp and in places forms almost-impenetrable thickets. The boulders were now all wet and treacherous and I had two heavy falls that sent me rolling pack-and-all into the river.

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Alternative Google Map of Witels kloofing

The “full-house” brunch at The Mill & Oaks restaurant proved to be the absolute highlight of the day. I for one was bruised, scratched and sore, but satisfied to have “done the Witels”. I had even had the fingerprints on my right hand “ironed” smooth from supporting myself on hot boulders during the previous days, despite wearing sawn-off sailing gloves! The middle and upper sections of the kloof proper were however enjoyable and full of adventure.

I think I now know why the Witels has acquired almost-legendary status for the privileged few who have been and those that have heard about it and would like to go. It leaves its mark on you.

For others who may be interested in doing this kloofing trip with the mountain club I include these tips that I would have found useful:

• Be fit or be young – you are going to get strenuous, full-body exercise
• Rucksack – low-profile and narrow to avoid getting snagged on vegetation and to give your arms room when swinging between rocks. The paths are indistinct and almost non-existent. Some sections are a bundu bash.
• Rucksack – in order to prevent water-logging and thus carrying extra weight it should be made of a light material or have a cover that is watertight that you can float the whole pack in (obviously all content should be packed watertight – kayaking dry bags are the best)
• Wear shoes that can get wet and allow water to escape and have “sticky soles” (i.e. river shoes – although Paul, the guide, claims that a pair only lasts one Witels trip). I would try to find such shoes that are also able to protect the soles (stiff) and support ankles (wishful thinking, I think). My La Sportiva Halites did the job admirably, but are difficult to swim in! Sandals are not the answer – I tried them for part of one day and stripped one too many branches between my toes.
• Pack light and when it’s light go lighter
• Walking poles are not much use in the canyon itself, but are a great help for stability on the initial climb and descent into the canyon.

A GPS predictably doesn’t work in the kloof.

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The weather forecast for this weekend promised nothing good. Consecutive cold fronts were expected to hit the Western Cape and the Cederberg can be an icy place when the weather turns foul. But although day two was pretty cold on the water, Saturday produced long sunny periods. Some of the rapids edged up into Grade 3 territory, but are fairly easy to negotiate in the inflatable, two-man crocs. Exciting and fun, without the fear that can sometimes grip one in the Batoka Gorge below Victoria Falls.

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Visgat. Ever since someone had told about this secret place I had wanted to go there. Finally my chance came – a “probationary” trip with the Stellenbosch branch of the Mountain Club of SA (“probationary” because I have to complete 3 trips before my membership application is accepted). Visgat is near the headwaters of the north-flowing Olifants River. It falls within private land and is a Natural Heritage Site, a protected area status that private landowners can apply for but that is not legally enforceable under South African law, and thus offers no statutory protection. Why is this an issue? Because as a biodiversity report on the Western Cape’s rivers shows, Visgat harbours some of our 18 threatened, mostly endemic, freshwater fish species and is an almost-pristine remnant of Cape river systems.

Besides that, Visgat is a fantastic kloofing experience with long swims through blackwater pools beneath sheer cliffs that cut out the sky.

The kloof trip from the last farm to Boskloof can probably be done in a single day, albeit quite a strenuous day, depending on the water level. We did it over 2 days, walking back to the start after day 1 and camping at the Van Huffels’ farm, and then starting next day from the pool where we exited. We then walked back from Boskloof.

Access is strictly limited by the landowner, which is a good thing. But you have to be a member of the MCSA to gain access, and even they have to negotiate carefully. So I am aware of being one of a privileged few who get to experience some of the Cape’s great wilderness.

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Having eaten and drunk our way across Botswana and Zimbabwe, never having to lift a finger, we were quite keen to do something physical. The famous Lower Zambezi canoe safari (with Canoeing Safaris of Kariba) had been something I had wanted to do for years. And I was not disappointed: this was a great adventure experience, not least because of the ever-present danger of hippos and crocs. In fact, the Zambezi could be described as something of a hippo obstacle course.

Extending the military metaphor, day one’s paddle from Chirundu to our first island camp was like “basics” (boot camp to non-South Africans) – 23km in an afternoon (sunset at 18h00), with single paddles on a wide and sluggish Zambezi. Pretty tough if you’re unused to paddling, or if you have been leading a sedentary existence like we had for a week.

Our first camp on a sand island was opposite a hunting camp on the Zimbabwe shore. Its only significance in this narrative is that it ran a diesel generator for a couple of hours, which tends to detract a bit from the wilderness experience… The group was pretty tired and reflective, contemplating another 3 days of hard paddling. What had we let ourselves in for?

Marion and I were surprised to discover that we were the oldest. We have sort of got used to being the youngest usually, but this was a sign that the years are catching up. The lead guide was Fisher, tall and lean, and who takes his responsibilities very seriously, and rightly so. The assistant guide, Kingsley, always has a ready smile and a witty word. Both these guys worked hard, kept us well-fed, and above all – safe. Stay close in a line astern, watch the lead guide, obey instructions, let the hippos have the deep water…

Jen and Chuck were from Indiana and Richard and Helen from London. And then there was Doug, mid-thirties retiree from Canada, with an alternative lifestyle and an alternative outlook on life. (At the time of writing Doug is still somewhere in Africa in alternative travel mode). Evenings under the stars around a candle (no fires allowed) were reserved for deep philosophical discussions, which given our different backgrounds, were rather stimulating.

10 July, midday: “I am writing this, stretched out on a mattress under a thorn tree on an island at the Rukomechi confluence in Mana Pools National Park. About 100m away, across a shallow sand bar is a pod of hippo, intermittently snorting and grunting. On the Zambian shore the escarpment is close. On the Zimbabwean bank a lone elephant drinks from the river…now I see four. So peaceful.” Such was the pattern after day one: early morning start, breakfast on an island, lunch and siesta on another island, easy paddle to the next campsite – on an island.

We got really close to three bull elephants on the Zambian bank. One mock charged while I was trying to shoot. The result: much manoeuvring and no photo.

The approach to our island camp at Vundu was tricky. We had to thread our way inshore of about 5 hippos, coming to within metres of them. This required delicate co-ordination between paddlers while adjusting for the vagaries of the current. The hippo-spotting technique of the guides is interesting: proceed slowly, tap on the canoe’s hull twice and watch for the ears and eyes that inevitably surface as the owner attempts to locate the source of the noise.

The channels around Vundu are deep, the bank sloping rapidly away into dark depths where one could easily imagine reptile eyes coldly calculating the odds of a successful ambush. The guides’ warnings of not to approach the water after dark were taken seriously. Apparently, last year a customer disregarded this advice and took a croc in the chest. He survived thanks to the selfless actions of a guide.Unlike the first day, the rest of this safari was very leisurely with generous time to relax and relatively short distances to paddle each day. After leaving Vundu we dodged hippo all morning before landing on Trichilia Island, so named because of the massive Natal Mahogany trees (Trichilia emetica) that form a mighty green canopy over the island. We spent a wonderful siesta here, idly watching elephant, hippo and various antelope in the distance.

Although both sides of the river are national park, there are many camps on the Zambian side, and motorboats are allowed in Zambian waters. The lack of regulation is unfortunate.A few times we would drift up to massive crocs sunning themselves on the sandbanks, only for them to slip silently into the water, and disconcertingly, under our canoe, never to be seen again. Zambezi crocs are large with a yellowish colouring.

Our next camp, on Devil Thorn Island, was shared with a lone elephant bull and a buffalo. Both disappeared by last light. Fueled by some swigs from Doug’s jug of Scud, a local Kariba brew with the lumpy consistency, texture and smell of vomit, which he had lovingly conserved on the trip, we launched into a long debate about ethics and economy. (Scud was apparently launched onto the market during the time of the Gulf War…)

A mellow, short paddle took us to Mana Pools’ Nyamepi Camp and the take out. But not before a wonderful, last close encounter with a lone bull elephant who made our day by trumpeting and shattering a few nerves as we drifted almost under his tusks.

And so like all good things, our canoe safari ended.

Doug continued with Kingsley and Fisher to Kanyemba. Here is an extract from an email sent from Malawi some weeks later: “We had crazy discussions and saw at least 3000 hippos, 1000 crocs and 6-8 elephants all in the river (the guide had a big gun!). We survived but unfortunately we saw a local dude who didn’t – he had been bitten in the face and chest by a hippo and was floating in the river when we came across him…not ideal.”

High adventure indeed…

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