Words: Ian Jones

Photos: Ian Jones &
Andy Holt

The best river you’ve never heard of… the Piatua, Ecuador

Hands up, who’s heard of the Piatua? Not many, I would surmise. Joe Public will have heard of rivers such as the Zambezi and the Nile. Boaters will have heard of the Futalafeu and the Marsyandi, but I wager there are not many people who have heard of the Piatua unless you are Ecuadorian or have paddled it.

It’s a classic; it was on Thursday, the 8th of February 2024, in its current form. Alex Dent of https://riverpeopleecuador.com/ informs us the river keeps changing; a massive flood a couple of years ago scoured the riverbed and pushed many of the large boulders to the river’s edge.

This is Ecuador, O-level geography. The heat of the day rises, cools, condenses, and forms rain clouds, and it rains, and boy, does it rain in these parts. Well, it is the tropical Amazonian rainforest, after all.

We’ve driven about 40 minutes out of Tena and are stood on a bridge over the Anzu river; there’s a section on here that will go, Alex informs us, or the Piatua section we did previously, although the levels will be lower, or the upper Piatua should be good to go. The debate goes back and forth; it’s our call, we are told, we’re unsure, then we hear mild-mannered Brian’s voice, “I’ve done the Anzu, I like new rivers, like the upper.”

The Upper Piatua
Let’s look at the Upper Piatua, then. Yes, lets! Into the trucks once more, and we turn off the tarmac onto gravel roads; pretty soon, we pull up, the road did go further, but currently, it doesn’t; floodwaters broke the bridge in style, and this will be today’s put-in.

Alex advises that this section keeps changing, and they don’t paddle it as often as other, more local river sections. Pancho will be our probe, scouting ahead and signalling to Alex, who will be leading us down. Pancho has already demonstrated his approach to rapids; if there’s a line choice, he will take the harder and style it; he is smooth, moving around the river effortlessly.

We are advised there will be about a 100m warm-up before we are into the action. We eddy hop down then break out river right, Pancho probes, then signals, Alex is off taking two with him, we lose line of sight, Andy is out, stood on top of a rock. He signals Brian and me down; the river twists and turns, with no indication of our route, so we assume we are good to go; we are; we drop down to river left, a dam that was steep, technical and fun.

We regroup. Pancho disappears out of sight, and one by one, we drop down, moving as the boat in front leaves its eddy. As I head downriver, I see Pancho eddied out river right, holding his position to advise on the line.

I drop into Pancho’s eddy; it’s swirling, and we cruise around in circles, watching over our shoulder as Brian leaves, taking a left line and disappearing out of sight. Pancho asks me if I want to boof. Pancho, I am happy to be surviving, but I shrug my shoulders and say, “Yeah, why not?” “Follow me then.” Another lap of the eddy, Pancho goes right; after telling everyone else to go left, he smears a rock, and an eight-foot-long boat disappears fast. Gulp. Another lap of the eddy, a glance downstream, and a raised set of blades indicates it’s good to go; I break out, smear the rock, and gravity takes over; the right line is the smoother route; if you nail it, I drop into the eddy all smiles.

No words needed
Pancho speaks excellent English, I speakio noio spanishio, however, this language is different to what non boaters would understand, this is the language of the river, different backgrounds and cultures but no words needed, big grins all round, a shake of hands, man that was cool.

A mandatory portage ahead, a tree in the river, is on the obvious line. We carry our boats under a blue, sun-filled sky; it is hot. I can feel my energy levels are low, and the situation is not going to improve until both Alex and Pancho supply me with bottles of Guayusa, containing more caffeine than coffee. Drugs, in liquid form, in reality, it’s a local tea with a punch.

This is day nine of boating. The war of attrition, paddling back-to-back days, is beginning to show. Add to that the bug issue that usually happens in foreign climes, and the fuel tank is approaching empty. I am making my lines, though. The moves are happening, but I walk a rapid I should have, could have paddled. We stop for lunch. The Guayusa begins to have an effect. The caffeine I usually avoid rushes around through my veins.

The planets align
The river becomes the culmination of over 20 years of paddling, from a shaky start at Plas Menai to a long list of classic white water rivers in different countries, Chile, Nepal, India, and Europe. I have not boated much in recent years, life factors and the usual guff that gets in the way. But, today, all those years, all the practising, training, the Treweryn, days on the Tees, ferry glides, eddy hopping, it all forms, focuses, the planets align, and we are cruising.

Alex takes the lead, Pancho sits mid-group, and we go, only stopping if a key piece of information needs to be imparted. Otherwise, we are off, downriver in a flurry of strokes, and must make lines, eddies, and signals. Pancho tells me to boof right; a hand gesture indicates where. I follow the suggested line, land on a low brace, carve into an eddy behind a rock, and hold my position until Brian clears his eddy below.

We are running late; Alex increases the pace and is back on his regular run of the river. I watch five boats in front of me criss-crossing the river, indicating where I need to be, but each feature is run on sight, all be it with an idea of where I need to be. For whatever reason, I like paddling at the back, last man, it allows me to see the lines, perhaps watching someone getting hammered and electing to go a different route, but there’s no backup, and that’s OK. We must accept that we are alone, even in a group, and this group is good; everyone is paddling well and making their lines. Eyes like bin lids greet me as I drop into an eddy, but I can see the joy in faces, smiles, nods of heads, a few words exchanged, and we’re off again.

The river calms. I recognise this from last week. Nooooooooo, I realise we are approaching the get-out. I have never wanted to stay on a river more. I tear up in the last eddy. I really do not want to get out of my boat. I sit for a few minutes, hands in water, trying to understand what just happened.

Your best day, living your life
Think of your favourite day, the most fun you have had, whatever it may be, your best day, living your life, to what ever end. This was such a day.

Days like these should be shared, and I was lucky enough to share them with friends, old and new. Gentlemen, life does not get any better for me. Thank you.

I didn’t know I could do it again, but I can, and that brings me so much joy.

If you want to know more about boating in Ecuador get in touch with Andy Holt, he knows stuff. Alex Dent is the man on the ground in Ecuador; he knows even more. Don’t leave home without either!

Thanks
Thanks to Alex Dent, Pancho Echeverria, Andy Holt, Shaun Bottomley and Brian Clough. Riverpeopleecuador.com and Escapetoadventure.com.