Back in August 2011, I was filming in Zambia with my friend, Tommy Varley says Jamie McPherson . We’d filmed together in Zambia and across the river in Zimbabwe many times before, while making a documentary for the BBC about Victoria Falls.
While our previous shoots involved crocodiles, hippos and elephants, this time we were here to film something considerably less dangerous - the mesmerising lunar rainbows that form in the mist of Victoria Falls during a full moon.
But as I was to discover, filming rainbows is not necessarily a serene experience.
We had one night to get the sequence in the bag. We loaded the kit into Tommy’s boat a few miles upstream of the falls, and headed onto the water. Tommy’s boat was a small fibreglass speedboat, which wasn’t exactly seaworthy, or riverworthy, for that matter. But it was in this battered little boat that Tommy had been exploring these rapids for years. He knew them better than anyone.
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The plan was to motor down to the edge of the falls and dock at a small island right on the edge, spend the night filming, then head back upstream in the morning.
The journey started as a succession of gentle, meandering channels and calm pools. It was very peaceful, despite our constant vigilance for hippos and crocodiles, and we enjoyed taking in the incredible surroundings of the Zambezi as we made our way downstream.
But as the Zambezi approaches the famous 100m drop-off, it constricts from three miles into one mile, and picks up speed and sass. Suddenly, we found ourselves funnelled through ever tighter channels and increasingly challenging rapids.
We navigated our way through the foaming waters, and as we reached the falls, Tommy deftly tucked us into an eddy beside the island. The roar of the falls was incredibly loud, drowning out the clattering whine of the boat’s ancient engine. We secured the boat and unloaded the kit as the sun set, alert for hippos and elephants and staying close to the trees for safety.
The lunar rainbows were incredible. You can’t see much with the naked eye, but our cameras brought out – well, all the colours of the rainbow, and more. The formations looked incredible in the mist of the falls, and even more magical when sped up into the 3D timelapses we were creating.
At dawn, with a great sequence in the can, we packed up our kit and headed back to the boat. Now, all we had to do was back-track through the rapids and get some breakfast.
As we loaded the kit into the boat, I was a little nervous of just how close to the edge we were – about 30 metres - and that we had no plan B. ‘Safety third’ was a motto we had often joked about. But I trusted Tommy’s intrinsic knowledge and got on with the job in hand.
We pushed off, motoring into the main river, the engine whirring confidently.
Then, it spluttered and cut out. Immediately, we were carried by the fast flowing water towards the 100m drop.
“We’re out of fuel,” Tommy yelled.
I jumped to the back of the boat to swap the fuel lines, while Tommy leapt forwards, grabbed an oar and starting paddling back towards the shore as if his life depended on it. Which it did. By some miracle, he managed to hold us in place, paddling like an olympic champion.
As quickly as I could, trying to ignore the roaring thunder of the falls – which was getting louder by the second – I reconnected the new fuel tank. As I did so, images of a starring role in future health and safety videos passed through my mind.
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I tried to start the engine. After a few agonising fails, it finally coughed and spluttered into life.
WHOOP!
As Tommy gave the little engine full throttle, we manoeuvred us back out into the rapids. We were still terrifyingly close to the edge and I grabbed a paddle to help. Momentarily, the engine spluttered again, and we were carried back even further, even closer. Still we paddled, desperately holding ourselves in place, until the engine burst fully into life, pushing us up out of the rapids and away from the edge.
Gradually, the roar of the falls was once again drowned by the clattering wine of the engine. The threat of hippos and crocs paled in comparison with what we had just experienced.
Back at the safety of the dock, a few hours later, I saw the oar that Tommy had been using. It looked like someone had smashed it into the floor, and snapped off almost all of the paddle element. He had essentially been paddling with a stick.
Safety third!
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