'Have to get out of its way,' he thought desperately, as he imagined
being caught up in the terrible flood which would certainly come down at
any moment. 'If I can reach the side somewhere, perhaps find a ledge,
climb above the flood.' But he knew it was a forlorn hope. He had swum
the length of the canyon once before without finding a handhold on the
slick walls.
'Swim ahead of it?' he thought. 'A slim chance, but the only one I
have.' He kicked off his boots, and gathered himself. He was about to
push off from his temporary refuge, when he heard the rest of the dam
wall high above him give way.
There was a rumbling roar, the crackle of logs snapping and breaking,
the grating and grinding of heavy gabions being -thrown around like
empty rubbish cans, and then suddenly and terrifyingly a solid wave of
grey water burst over the top of the falls, carrying with it a wall of
trash and debris.
'Oh mother! Too late. Here comes the big one!'
He shoved off from his rock, turning downstream, and swam with all his
strength, kicking and flailing his arms in a wild crawl stroke. He heard
the roar of the approaching wave and glanced back over his shoulder. It
was overhauling him swiftly, filling the chasm from wall to wall,
fifteen feet high and curling at the top. He had a fleeting mental II
image from his youth, waiting to surf that notorious wave at Cape St.
Vincent, hanging on the line'up and seeing it humping up behind him,
this great wall of water, so mountainous and so overwhelming.
'Ride id' he told himself, judging the moment. 'Catch it like a slider.'
He clawed through the water, trying to get up speed to ride up the wall.
He felt it seize him and lift him so violently that his guts swooped,
and then he was on the crest of it. He arched his back and tucked his
am-is behind him in the classic body-surfer's position, hanging in the
face of the wave, slightly head down, the front half of his body thrust
clear of the water, steering with his legs. After the first few
terrifying seconds he realized that he was ic abated and riding her high
and had some control; his pan he was overcome by a sense of wild
exhilaration.
'Twenty knots!' He estimated his speed by the giddy i blur of the canyon
walls passing him on either side. He steered away from the nearest wall,
sliding across the face, taking up station in the centre of the wave, He
was caff ied along by the wave and by the thrilling sensation of speed
and danger.
The increased depth of water in the chasm covered the dangerous,
knife-sharp rocks, enabling him to ride clear of them. It smoothed out
the waterfalls and the chutes, so that instead of dropping down them and
plummeting below the surface of the pool beneath he slid down them with
a smooth rush, holding his position in the face of the wave with a few
quick overarm strokes or a kick of the legs.
'Hell! This is fun!' He laughed aloud. 'People would pay money to do
this. Beats the hell out of bungee jumping.' A
Within the first mile the wave began to lose its shape and impetus as it
spread out. down the canyon. Soon it would no longer have the power to
