BIG BLUE
Rafting the Abay Wenz: High Adventure in Ethiopia's Blue Nile Gorge

Story and photographs by BRUCE KIRKBY

It is said that if the gift of the Nile is water, than the Abay is the gift giver. From its source at Lake Tana until its confluence with the White Nile at Khartoum beyond the Sudanese border, the Blue Nile winds through lands still barely explored. A month long, thousand-kilometre journey by raft brings encounters with bandits, crocodiles, flash floods and a boy named Abush.

Frantic mules stampeding in the darkness outside my tent roused me from a deep, almost catatonic, slumber. As I wiped a smear of dried drool from my cheek, the faint patter of bare feet scurrying by outside caught my attention. I wearily rubbed the sleep from my eyes, sat up and tried to remember where I was.

Suddenly AK-47 gunfire erupted all around. As muzzle flashes illuminated the sides of my tent, I tried to envisage the unfamiliar surroundings outside. Where would the attackers be coming from? How could I avoid being hit by a bullet? Would I be better off balled up in the centre of the tent, or stretched out against a wall? As I pondered these somewhat inane questions, the gunfire slowed, deep voices rang out and several men ran by outside.

Soon my teammates were calling from tent to tent. "What in the name of Christ is going on out there?" "Is everyone OK? Is anyone hit?" Tents were slowly unzipped, and panicked faces peered out into the night.

Zelalem, our young interpreter, was already up, explaining that a thief had raided the camp. After successfully stealing one mule, greediness had got the better of the thief and he'd come back for a second. This time he scared the herd of pack animals and they stampeded in the darkness.

The moon had yet to rise, and in the inky darkness we shone our flashlights out across the rocky fields surrounding us. The half-dressed guards, guns ready, were spread out in a fan searching the uneven terrain, yelling back and forth in Amharic. One of our beams caught a dark shadow lurking among some distant shrubs, and immediately the guards' guns erupted again. We quickly switched the flashlights off. Despite feeling no allegiance to the robber, we did not want to see him killed -- which seemed likely if we gave his position away again. Eventually the guards returned, empty-handed and agitated. Long after we had retired to our tents, their voices echoed through the valley as they kept watch by the fire and excitedly relived the events of the evening.

The Blue Nile as Ethiopians know it... story continued.