TRIPOD AS PADDLE (Confessions of a Photographer's Wife)

Contemplating the day as I sit in our little cabin in the Amazonian jungle with the downpour sluicing down the trail to the dining room, it occurs to me that, when I go to dinner, my trusty tripod might need to serve as a paddle.

            We’ve got a 5-hour Class III rafting trip scheduled on Rio Jatunyacu and to say I’m less than enthusiastic would be an understatement.

            As we discuss our options, my photo-snapping spouse agrees that he’ll take all the gear for the shots as we tour the market and make some scenic stops, but it and the tripod (I really should give it a name) will remain in our REI Adventures van.

            Before our trip, I was gifted with an underwater, destruction-proof snap and shoot (well, it does have various settings, though I prefer AUTO), and it seems most practical.

            We’ve done some rafting before, but this time our daughter and 13-year old grandson will be with us, so I’m a bit nervous.  My daughter, on the other hand, is just plain scared but she’s a gamer and will be in the raft with us.

            After a few stops to include a local fruit and veggie market that also sells live grubs the size of my thumb which our guide tells us are a delicacy to the locals (they wiggle going down), we arrive at the river.  The local rafting guide is a hoot, but the safety briefing is cause for some concern as we gaze at the river, flowing especially fast after the all-night deluge in true rainforest style.  We see some pretty large waves and holes and I offer to stay behind with my daughter but darn it, she declines.

            After a great picnic lunch, we suit up and make our way down a steep, rocky path to the rafts.  There are 8 in each plus the lead guide in a kayak – a lucky thing as it turns out.

            As It soon becomes evident that the tripod was the smart one!  Our first adventure involves our guide steering us directly into a rounded boulder in the middle of the river which we promptly hit head on.  Did I forget to say that part of our pre-trip briefing involved the command “inside” where we all dive onto the floor of the raft?  I’ve never seen 8 people move so fast, but we manage to remain in the craft, though in various states of disarray.  After that little adventure, we contemplate changing guides, but as we look back and see our mates hit the rock, we realize that their guide called “inside” not at all, and several take an unintended river bath. Maybe we’ll stay where we are.

            As we continue down-river we realize that one poor kid, a 13-year old boy in the following raft who was used as a demonstration dummy during our briefing, has now managed to be thrown into the river at least 4 times.  In our raft, we’ve all stayed relatively intact but then our grandson, ever the adventurer, decides that standing on the bow of the raft, hanging onto a rope, might be a fun experience.  After several miles and only one dunking, he got frustrated at his lack of thrill, and just jumped in. 

            Thank goodness by this time we’d merged with another river and settled into a steady pace, so he didn’t get far before we caught and retrieved him.

            In thinking back about the utility of a tripod as paddle, I realized that my good buddy was the only smart one in the entire group of 16 adventurers.  But to be honest, paddling through rapids, diving onto the floor of a rubber raft, feeling the warmth of a jungle downpour, scaling water-laden rocks, and coming out alive was a pretty good feeling.