 ...after
a quick break we then headed out across farmland to our rendezvous
with Krish Hardowar, who would be taking us on our next challenge:
to abseil a 45m section of the Tamarin Falls.
 Krish,
an Indian Mauritian, runs climbing and canyoning trips for people
who "want to experience the island differently", as he
put it. "Some
people are quite content to just look at a waterfall or a
beautiful view, but others feel the need to be part of it.
They need to be in the waterfall, on the trails, in the
middle of a cliff." We suited up in shortie wet suits, donned
helmets and harnesses, then followed Krish down through the
foliage to the river. Below
us were the falls - a series of seven cascades interspersed with
plunge pools. It's
possible to do all of them on a longer trip, but today we were to
do just the top fall.
After
running through the equipment and safety procedures, one of the
girls asked Krish if anyone had ever lost their nerve.
"Oh yes," he replied, smiling.
"But I make it a point that everyone goes
down," he added, explaining that if someone didn't go they
wouldn't enjoy themselves - they would feel a failure.
 The
rope was first positioned beside the fall and Krish's assistant
Ken went down to anchor the free end.
Andy - experienced in abseiling - went next, then Ben, a
young pilot doing the trip for the second time.
It was now my turn. Clipping
in to the safety rope I walked over to the cliff and stepped down
to join Krish on a small ledge.
The pool 45m below tried to draw my gaze but 1 resisted its
spell. I looked hard at the rope and concentrated on Krish's
instructions, all the time conscious of the gaping nothingness at
my back. Clipped now
onto the abseil rope, 1 was positioned with my feet halfway over
the edge. Leaning
back, I paid out the rope and took my first steps.
Though
I didn't know it yet, the worst was already over. Placiing my feet so they wouldn't slip on the wet rock took
all my attention. After
15m or so I had a good rhythm going ... when suddenly I ran out of
cliff. An instant of
panic was followed by the remembrance of Krish talking about a
cave running behind the waterfall.
The hardest strata of rock were now all above my head and
directly in front of me the wall was massively undercut.
 I
fought the urge to scrabble for the rock face as I began to twist
around in the air, my legs sticking uselessly out in front of me.
Then I relaxed as the scene about me swung into view.
The Tamarin River Gorge rose up to meet the pool below my
feet in a series of steps similar to the one I was now hanging
from. On my left the
steep, forested wall of the gorge reared up towards the unglimpsed
summit of Simonet at 632m to my right, a lower but no less steep
slope led out to the plateau we had descended from. I let out a
whoop. What had
seemed scary moments before was now fun.
With growing confidence, I slid down the remaining rope to
the slippery rocks lining the pool to wait for the others to take
their turn.
 Within
minutes we were reunited at the bottom, all of us ready to go
again. A quick
scramble back up worked off the chill we'd felt in the shadow of
the fall, and we watched as Krish now moved the rope to drop it
straight down inside the fall itself.
Ken demonstrated how we should slide forward in the water
until we were over the edge, then allow the force of the fall to
turn us into the more usual position.
This time I was the first to go. The wet rope was harder to
handle, and when I reached the lip of the falls gravity added its
irresistible weight. Now
the only way was down, with every step made harder by the pressure
of the cascading water, making me feel like a street protester
caught in the blast of a water cannon.
This time it was a relief to be clear of the cliff so I
could have fun by letting the rope run through faster. I covered
the last metres buzzing with achievement.
Krish's "being part of it all" made perfect
sense.
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