An early morning launch of the expedition.















Supported by a land team, eight crack kayakers from the UK and the USA (including two women), one Canadian and five Indian raft guides, and 18 paddlers eventually put in on the river.



Due to its sheer size, magnitude of river running challenge and altitude on the barren Tibetan plateau, the river flows at an average height of 4000 meters above mean sea level — the Brahmaputra is referred to as the ‘Everest of Rivers’. In the last five years or so, several well-documented and generously-funded expeditions have taken on its might on the Tibetan side. But across the international border, where the Siang (as the river is known in these reaches) thunders into the densely forested Indian state of Arunachal Pradesh, the action has been thin, consisting of less than a handful of descents over the last decade, assisted and controlled by the armed forces. Moreover, as the region falls inside the so-called Inner Line, the band of terrain close to the Chinese border where civilian entry has been highly restricted, these motley expeditions were deliberately unpublicized.

November-December of 2002 saw all that change. A team of 50 people flew, river ferried and drove over a total of four days from Delhi, to reach the remote village of Tuting in the north-eastern Himalayas, to mount on the Siang the biggest white water expedition ever put together in India. Supported by a land team, eight crack kayakers from the UK and the USA (including two women), one Canadian and five Indian raft guides, and 18 paddlers eventually put in on the river. The participation was as catholic as can get. For instance, while Rob Litherland, at all of 17 years, was the youngest kayaker — the youngest rafters were a couple of spunky local lads, not more than 15 —Pete Weingarten, the 61-year-old orthopedic surgeon, was the oldest. Both were experts at their trade, except the jazzy-helmeted Weingarten had shot rapids for twice as many years as Litherland had spent in this world. Austrian Sepp Puchinger, photographer, physical education instructor, veteran of 300 rivers across the globe, wielding paddle, on one hand, and Terry Curell, 51, on the other. An experienced helicopter pilot, Curell had never rafted before. Petite and intrepid Shailaja Nagpal, the only non-swimmer on the trip; Dr Prabhjit Purewal, cancer specialist, and Kim Hartlin, Canadian outdoorsman, both with varied experiences in the valley many years ago, the power of the river drawing them back…the list went on.

The send-off from Camp I at Tuting was festive. Adi tribal girls danced and sang, the state Chief Minister orated, and Buddhist and Donyi Polo — the regional pantheistic faith — priests chanted prayers for a safe journey. The latter proved appropriate for a few bends downstream the expedition ran into some of the biggest white water in the world. Whereas the kayaks streaked through like weaving prizefighters, under the eagle eye of helicopter-borne cameras — the expedition was being filmed for international distribution — 25-feet high exploding waves wreaked havoc on the rafts. Villagers watched awestruck from the banks as between them, the Ningguing and Palsi rapids flipped over three rafts, swept out the crew of a fourth and flicked off a few more paddlers with disdain. After that first day, the writing was on the wall. It was evident to the three guides who had braved the river six years ago that a massive flood in 2000 had radically changed the Siang’s hydrodynamics. Careful scouting and caution needed to be exercised. Thereafter as the days went by, rapid after swirling rapid — Rikor, Breakfast Rapid, Karko Killer and a few dozen more — was crested without mishap. Until the eighth and last day, when the river had the final say, knocking over the guide leader’s boat with the Pongging Punch. Later that afternoon, after 180 kilometers of weaving and bobbing, the rafts floated out of the mountain valley and on to the plains. And to a rousing reception at Pasighat, helmets and life jackets were unstrapped for the last time.

More than just battling the fury of a river, the Great Brahmaputra Descent was also about sampling the fascinating culture of a remote and difficult to access region. Initially, expedition members walked across swaying wooden bridges that were more resilient than they looked, to visit Adi villages and interact with the hardy folk. In the days that followed, at every beach camp during the river descent, curious tribals would drift in, with their daos (machetes), bows and arrows and families in tow, to gape and laugh at the mad men and women who dared their river in wetsuits and weird looking boats.


NOTEBOOK: The Class IV+ Brahmaputra descent is acknowledged to be one of the top three white water trips in the world. Because of difficulty in obtaining permits and the immense logistics involved, commercial rafting outfitters shy away from operating trips on this river. AquaTerra Adventures, New Delhi (tel: 91-11-26232641; 26292760; email: aquatera@vsnl.com; website: www.treknraft.com) is the only outfitter offering a fixed date expedition for 2003 (21 November-5 December).