It was a beautiful evening here at the research station in the jungle, as many of them are. The sun was slowly sinking behind the wall of trees, hornbills were swooping through the cloudless sky, the mighty Ivindo River flowed gently downstream, without even a ripple, as if it wasn’t moving at all. It was the perfect evening to go for a paddle and that’s just what my friend Keary and I did.

Keary had recently commissioned a pirogue from one of the local village men. It’s a beautiful hand-made canoe carved out of a tree. It’s not the biggest nor is it the sturdiest of vessels but we were confident that it could accommodate both of us. So we gingerly stepped in and set out on the river.

The little pirogue was wobbly at first and its sides were almost level with the surface of the water. I dared not sneeze for fear of turning us over. But then Keary started paddling and we began to glide smoothly downstream. I felt secure, but little did I know how wrong I was.

It was so peaceful. The only sounds were the gentle plop of the paddle into the water and the low throaty call of a Great Blue Turaco bird somewhere up ahead. On either side of us was thick jungle, bursting at its seams and seemingly rolling into the river so that the water and the trees flowed effortlessly into each other. I’ve often felt very insignificant here in the jungle where nature seems to be completely unaware of and uninterested in my presence, and is breathtakingly beautiful just for her own sake. This particular evening was no different.

After a while the flies started to really bug me and we decided to head for home. That, however, was easier said than done. As soon as we turned the pirogue and began paddling upstream the current started pushing against us making it very difficult to keep the boat straight. No matter how hard we tried we couldn’t stop it veering from side to side.

At first this was just a little annoying and we paddled forward without really worrying too much. But then we started taking on water. Every time the pirogue swerved a little splashed over the sides. We still didn’t think too much of it, only another little annoyance. But then more water splashed in. And more. And more.

“There’s a lot of water in this pirogue”, I pointed out to Keary, despite knowing that she was already very well aware of our predicament. We were, after all, in the same boat. She began to slap some of it out. But it was hopeless and the laws of physics were against us. I watched in horror as the slender bow dipped below the surface, the water on either side spilling in and swallowing the pirogue before my eyes. “We’re going under!” is all I had time to say, but once again Keary already knew.

It all happened so quickly. One minute we were getting a little damp in the pirogue and the next we were in the water, kicking our legs and holding onto the overturned boat for dear life. It was not a place I wanted to be or ever imagined I would be. The water was as brown as chocolate and God only knows how deep.

All I could think about were the creatures that might have been lurking underneath me. I knew that giant catfish, some well over a meter long, patrolled this river and would gladly probe my toes with their pointy whiskers. There could have been a crocodile right beside me for all I knew. Cobras are also known to slink through these waters. That’s not to mention the evil river spirits who are infamous among the locals for dragging unsuspecting individuals to their watery deaths. I was understandably terrified.

My fears were unfounded though and I wasn’t harmed by any river dwellers, be they real or mystical. Yet there still remained the problem of getting back into the boat. This was achieved by guiding the pirogue to a nearby tree. Using this as a wedge Keary and I managed to upturn the boat and splash out most of the water. Then very carefully and not a moment too soon we climbed back in.

I breathed a controlled sigh of relief, careful not to rock the unstable pirogue. Soaking wet and still shaking from the shock we paddled back to the dock, luckily without capsizing again. When we eventually got there we jumped out, only too happy to place our feet on dry land. And then we burst out laughing and didn’t stop for quite some time!

More of Megan's adventures in Africa...

Adventures in Africa: Camping in the Central African jungle.

Adventures in Africa: Chased by an elephant.

Adventures in Africa: 24 hours in a remote African village.