Words:
LIAM KIRKHAM

Photos:
Small World Adventures

Liam Kirkham’s lessons from the river 3

I’ve spent an ill-advised amount of time, money and energy on kayaking. It’s taken me all over the world, and despite never being a great kayaker, I’ve racked up a fair bit of experience. I’m not kayaking as much as I used to, but looking back, I realise some of my biggest life lessons have been handed out by the river. Though that may say more about my lack of education than anything. I would like to share some of these lessons with you in a series of ten true stories. Expect tangents, pseudo-philosophy, solid advice and utter nonsense. I’ll leave it up to you to decipher which ones are which.

In February 2011, I was living on a boat in Exeter, and I happened upon an online video that I found so entrancing that I watched it on repeat several times.

It was an advert for a company called Small World Adventures (SWA) that operates kayaking trips in Ecuador. Beautifully shot, it showed lush green jungle, challenging water, smooth boulders, shortie cags and monkeys! A far cry from the freezing cold barge I was watching from.

The whitewater clips were mixed with interviews with the three owners, Don Beveridge, Darcy Gaechter and Larry Vermeeren. I actually felt pained at how much I wanted to go. I sent an email… ”I want to come next year on a torrents trip!” It was an email that, as I write this, I realise changed my life and paddling journey.

January 2012
I spent a year rewatching the video advert, and in January 2012, I flew out on my own to Ecuador for a two-week kayaking holiday. I had never had a paddling trip like it. It was such a smooth operation. As a teenager at outdoor centres, I idolised the instructors. I had the same feeling here. Larry, Don and Darcy lived and breathed their passion and work. I caught myself thinking “I want this!”

So, on day two, I made a conscious effort to show them that I might be a guide. I was a customer, but I made sure I was always in a useful position on the river, and I managed to throw a line to a couple of swimmers. On the penultimate night, Larry, Don and Darcy said, “We would like to offer you a job next season.”

I was ecstatic. I was also very tired after 14 great days on the water. The last river of the trip, hours after being offered a job, I had my first swim of the trip. I front crawled to the bank and found myself at Don’s feet, who joked that I was “already fired!”

I returned after a year with a brand-new Pyranha Shiva and a 100-litre kit bag, ready for four months’ work. I was the most junior member of the team filling the fridge, cleaning the boats, making the lunches and entertaining the guests were all part of the job. I loved it all.

I learnt so many lessons in that first season from Don, Dacy and Larry. Let me give you one now.

Larry Vermeeren
Larry Vermeeren began visiting Ecuador in the early 90s and set up SWA. He is one cool cat. He would spend his winters guiding and paddling in Ecuador, then working as a Grand Canyon raft guide. He wasn’t the usual gregarious, showy, bouncy, loud template you may associate with outdoor guiding/instructing jobs. He is warm, gracious, quiet and stoic.

Because of this, when he decided to speak, people would listen. His experience guiding on the river made it look effortless. An example: He would choose a beautiful, big eddy and sit there quietly smiling. One person would join him; he’d quietly point out something on the bank. The rest of the group, aware they were missing something, would gravitate to the eddy. “The nest you can see there is an Oropendola nest” The group would take it in, and then, now they were in hearing distance, he would calmly say.

“The Next rapid is coming up. Just behind me (he wouldn’t need to turn around) is a large black shape like a pyramid. As soon as I pass that, I’m going to work hard to get all the way to the right to avoid a big hole in the middle of the river. Pass the black triangle rock, then drive right. Ok, let’s go.”

For me, guiding was still a bit like herding cats. Booming voice, waving people frantically into eddies and then overcomplicating instructions. I was working with Larry one week when we reached a large rapid called ‘El Torro’ on the Quijos River.

It was the second day for this group, and they were chomping at the bit to paddle some of the bigger rapids on the river. We were on the side and inspecting the rapids. The group has gone quiet, taking in the biggest rapid they had seen so far this trip. “Would you like to run a demo for the group, Liam?” Asked Larry.

I’ll admit I was very keen to impress Larry and maybe even show off in front of the group. An ugly trait. Maybe in my eagerness, I didn’t take in the details of the line very well. As I peeled out of the eddy, I could see the group all standing on the rock, ready to watch me style this rapid.
I sat up straight and began my approach. As the flow began to speed up, I looked at the crowd. “How was my form?” I wondered.

‘Demo fever’
I then started to wonder if they could see the precision of my strokes. I began to have an almost out-of-body experience that I’ve since named ‘demo fever’.

I was paddling the rapid, but I was also aware of how it would look from the group’s perspective. I had split my focus. It was a sense of duality. I could see downstream, but could also envisage my line from the bank. That was until I was suddenly upside down. I rolled back up, but I was floating backwards downstream much further left than I should be. I chanced a look at the group. Mouths wide.

I hit something and flipped again. This time my roll was laboured, and by the time I was up, another wave knocked me over. I was now gasping for air and panicking, and as a result, missed a couple of rolls whilst getting churned around.

I felt the water slow. If I missed this roll, I’d be swimming. I needed air. Luckily, I rolled up and took a big gulp of air. I could feel my face turning red with embarrassment and tried to override it with a big, large ‘I’m ok hand signal’.

The whole group shook their head, picked up their kayaks and walked the rapids. My abysmal display had stripped them of any confidence. Larry paddled over to me and kindly said, “Sometimes a negative demo can be a positive thing.” I could tell that once he knew I was safe, he’d found the whole thing funny.

Fragmented
I thought about that demo and recalled how my focus has been fragmented. My mind had been busy wondering how I was making this look. Maybe some ego at play and a strange experience of not being present. I vowed it would not happen again. “Liam, pay more attention,” or, more poetically, lesson number 3 is simply ‘Be here now’.

I got much better at running demos, guiding and paddling. A year later, I paddled with Larry in the Grand Canyon. A huge storm hit the camp, and tents were getting washed away. It was bedlam. I ran around the camp in the dark with a throw line, clipping all the kayaks together so they wouldn’t be washed away. The next day, Larry said, “Liam, you’re a good person to have in a shit situation.” I finally felt like I’d made amends for the awful demo!

I continued guiding with Small World Adventure until 2024 and never stopped being blown away by the whitewater. I’m paddling less these days, but I imagine I’ll go back to SWA as a customer in a couple of years! I think it’ll be fun to close the circle.

Lesson 3: ‘Be here now’