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The pressure of the water slammed us up against the rock and held us fast.

We climbed back onto the raft. Kevin instructed me to tie the oar down so that it wouldn't be swept into the river. I looked over at the waterfall to our left. The river cascaded downward ten or twelve feet. God, why hadn't I turned back with Karl and Marcus?

My legs quivered. If we could manoeuvre to the right, we would make it through. We tried to get the raft off the rock but were helpless against the current. We tried everything we could think of – pushing, pulling, rowing, prying the raft off with the poles – but the raft didn't budge.

Kevin quickly sized up the situation.

'I don't see much chance of the current getting us out of here. It's only six or seven yards to the right bank, while the waterfall is here on our left, and after that it's probably twenty yards to the left bank. The river is narrow, and the current is terrifically strong. You see what it means? The canyon must start here. We must be really close to the island. If we can just make it ashore, we can go on from here by foot and easily bypass the canyon overland to Curiplaya.'

Kevin paused for a moment and looked around before he made up his mind.

'We don't have any choice. I'm going in. I'll try to reach the right bank. When I do, you throw me the machete. I'll climb up into the jungle and cut a vine. I'll throw the vine to you, and you'll pass