Stage 4: Cromwell Gorge
The historical route lay behind. The next stage was the ultimate challenge of the Clutha. Carefully, we studied the route to Clyde. My crew agreed that I would need someone familiar with the gorge aboard the raft. In Cromwell, I found James, an experienced kayaker, who was willing to man the forward sweep.
Lowburn Bridge departure, 10.45am
The river was very high on the morning March 6, a Saturday. At 10.45am, James and I cast off. The river opened into a wide reach. We manoeuvred among a few islands, just missing more willows. But then, incredibly, the entire Clutha compressed into a channel scarcely several metres wide. Within moments, the banks became sheer rock walls, reaching beyond sight. The waters roared so that nothing else could be heard. Pulling on the sweeps, we passed Deadman’s Point, accelerating.
The Cromwell Gap loomed ahead – white, deafening, a torrent, pouring down through an opening between submerged boulders. We gripped the sweeps, feet braced apart. Over we flew, riding down – twenty knots into the “stopper” – a churning wall of water. I saw James engulfed. The raft lurched violently right. I spread myself almost flat on the deck as she heeled over and dived at forty-five degrees underwater. From above, we had been consumed. The current swept over.
Rising in the backwash
Exiting the "stopper" in the "Cromwell Gap"
Gradually, the raft rose in the foaming backwash. James was still there. The raft was riding high on turbulence, rolling and bucking, as we heaved on the sweeps, slowly coming around into the current. At last, we straightened out and passed beneath the Cromwell Bridge, to the shouts and cheers of the spectators above.
Waving to spectators
Passing beneath the Cromwell Bridge
Passing under cable at Hartley and Reilly's
As we proceeded, James described what lay ahead, so that we avoided eddies and rocks, and deep holes into which water poured endlessly. But several kilometres down the gorge, almost before realizing, we ran swiftly against rocks. The river surged over us – a tonne of pressure per cubic metre. Within seconds, we overturned. The raft came off, continuing capsized as we hauled ourselves aboard. Quickly, we untied the manuka poles along the laterals to fend off rocks.
Passing Annan's Orchard
View towards Clyde
In due course, the raft again struck hard, caught against a rock wall. This time, as the current began driving us down on the up-current side, we climbed up, successfully pushing off the rock wall to roll and right the raft. Again, we hauled ourselves aboard. Both sweeps were undamaged. Two and a half hours after entering the Cromwell Gorge, James and I tied up at the Clyde Bridge.
Lower Cromwell Gorge, near Clyde
Raft moored below the Clyde bridge
