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297 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2012
"...'Mazungu… Mazunguuu,' came the bloodcurdling screams. 'Give us money.' They were all standing up and paddling like men possessed. The nearest guy had a huge machete attached to his waist. 'Jesus Christ. What the hell am I doing here?' I muttered to myself.
For the past half hour I had been paddling as though my life depended on it. As though? It did depend on it. I was praying they would give up the chase, but it was no good. Despite my best efforts they were catching up.
All of my senses were strained to the limit. I couldn't have felt more alive and in the moment – the rhythmic sound of my paddle pulling hard and clean in the water, the heavy, pungent aroma of steaming vegetation, the feel of my heart pounding, and the sweat dripping off my nose. The fear was rapidly growing within me, demanding an answer to the age-old question: fight or flight?"
"During my journey I'd come to understand that the amount of trouble I encountered was directly proportional to the size of the village. Give me a humble, hardworking fishing village any day. In the smaller places, people were generally far too busy trying to feed their kids to worry about the bald white bloke and his fat wallet. But the bigger the place became, the more chance there was of encountering madmen hell-bent on making my life a misery. Kasongo was a very big village.
Not long before, when the dawn mist still lingered over the water, I had tried to sneak past without attracting attention, hugging the opposite bank.
But just when I thought I'd got by safely, I came upon a group of men lingering by the riverside just ahead of me. It quickly became apparent that they weren't in the mood to make a new friend. They burst into life with a suddenness and a ferocious intensity that made me wince.
I'd known I was in trouble almost immediately. It wasn't unusual for people to shout for money from the banks, but my gut instinct, which I had come to love and cherish, told me that this time it was different. These guys were more hostile and aggressive than normal, and they'd made no bones about what they were after. They wanted my money or my life. I tried to introduce myself in my usual polite way but they didn't give me a chance.
They just ran into the water and tried to grab my canoe, some of their faces screwed up in pure hatred. It was time to put the power on and get the hell out of there.
Within seconds, I heard the cry 'Mazungu' – 'white man' – screamed and repeated along both banks at an alarming rate. It was disconcerting, to say the least. I felt like a wandering wolf that had inadvertently strolled into a farming community and was being hunted down. I had to go faster..."
"At 4,703 km long, the Congo is Africa's second longest river after the Nile and the eighth longest on the planet. Its flow rate is the second most powerful in the world after the Amazon, discharging 42,000 m of water per second. It's also the deepest river in the world, reaching depths of 230 m. It rises in the highlands of North Eastern Zambia at an elevation of 1,756 m and at a distance of about 692 km from the Indian Ocean. Its course then takes the form of a gigantic counter clockwise arc, with numerous rapids and waterfalls along the way. It flows through savannah, swamp and dense tropical rainforest, crossing the equator twice before finally draining into the Atlantic Ocean at the village of Banana. Such is the force of the river at the coast that fresh water can be found as far as 200 km out to sea."
"The moral of these stories for me is this: if in doubt when facing unsavoury characters, stick your hand out and smile, but look strong, stare unblinkingly deep into their eyes and give them the mother of all handshakes. This, combined with a 'mess with me and I'll rip your head off' look in your eyes, should give you a fighting chance. Eventually somebody's got to back down – and hopefully it won't have to be you..."