The great Western Australian white water race

The Avon Descent is an annual, two-day, white-water event from Northam to Perth down a 133km river. Picture / Derek Cheng

Interesting way to mark the start of Western Australia's most famous white-water event. The celebratory parade through the town of Northam, population 5000, includes bagpipes, the town's entire supply of emergency vehicles ... and a cow that finds it amusing to urinate in front of visiting journalists.

Wrong colour for this event, surely.

After that sort of introduction I feel entitled to worry about what the whitewater race itself will be like.

The Avon Descent is an annual, two-day, white-water event from Northam to Perth down a 133km river by kayak, surf ski or engine-powered dinghy.

Why do they do this? In 1972, the motivation was publicity. Gerry Post, one of the original four descenders, says they were testing a fuel additive by taking a 5hp dinghy down the river.

"I don't know why I was asked to go," says Gerry, now 61. "I think it was to balance the boat. The other guys were skinny." I note Gerry's belly. It's got a lot of give.

The fuel additive never took off, but the race is now quite the spectacle. Every person within driving distance comes to bask in the sun by the river and watch as dinghies crash and kayaks overturn. There's nothing quite as entertaining as someone else's wet misery.

This year is the inaugural tri-nations, featuring New Zealanders Ian Huntsman, an ex-Brit, and Dave Hunter, an ex-Scotsman, both from Christchurch's Arawa Canoe Club. Their surnames are coincidental, they insist.

The descent is timed with the Avon River's highest annual water level, but it has been unseasonably dry, and the river is littered with shallow, rocky waters and dense ti trees.

It's not for those lacking courage. Nor stupidity.

It's a sunny Friday morning when the courageous and stupid line up by the river for battle.

A gun fires and the 880 entrants are away, one group at a time. Within an hour, half the dinghies have crashed into each other at the short ramp at the Northam Weir.

The crowd winces, applauds, and shouts words of encouragement.

Some kayakers choose to bypass the weir by carrying their kayaks ashore and running past, though this is unacceptable to those wanting carnage.

"Chicken," cries one woman from the safety of the riverbank. "Chicken," her tubby son echoes.

Near the halfway point lies the cosy shire of Toodyay, where a riverside food festival offers a tasty lunch.

The locals are chummy and, over some East Timorese-style chicken, one girl puts to me the absurd notion that I sound Australian.

On the banks further downstream, the racers drag themselves from the water after the first day's stage and settle into a campsite.

"A decade ago, the campsite was 10,000 strong and quite the party zone," says Kevin Harrison, chairman of the descent's board.

"There were greasy poles with money at the top, and naked women trying to get the money. Then there was an incident and they toned it down."

Unfortunately he can't recall what the incident was. "A fight, maybe?"

The hot spot of day two is Bell's Rapids, the last of the more tricky obstacles, before a 30km sprint - or jog, rather - over calm waters to the finish. People clutter the riverside rocks as a high number of paddlers take the plunge, but they cheer those who make it through unscathed.

At the finish line, next to a sandy stretch by the river, Hunter is beaming, despite almost 11 hours of paddling and having a disagreement with his boat over balance.

"I hit a rock at Syd's rapids that stopped the boat dead, and the crowd went mental," he retells with much enthusiasm.

"The boat took a one-and-a half inch dent at the front and I couldn't keep it upright so I had a swim at the bottom of Syd's, the first time in 11 years. It was quite refreshing."

Hunter came ninth among the single kayakers, and was feeling "not too bad, apart from my arse".

Huntsman, who came sixth, agrees. "It's not that hard on the rest of your body, but your butt, sitting there for hours and hours ... "

Though the South Africans cleaned up the tri-nations, Ian reckons the New Zealanders didn't do too badly having never done the race before.

"The first day was tough. We had no other option but to follow the locals through the ti trees. But today was fantastic.

"I'll be back next year if they'll have me. Absolutely."

* Derek Cheng was guest of Tourism Western Australia.

Getting there

Air New Zealand flies direct to Perth five days a week (daily from December) with fares starting at $399 one-way (plus taxes, etc).

Activities

White water rafting:

Whitewater rafting options at other times include: River Gods, have a half-day rafting on the Avon River for $95. Mainpeak Paddlesports offer training for the Avon Descent.

Dwellingup adventures and Adventure Out do rafting trips on the Murray River.

Flying:

It's $120 for a half-hour glide at Beverley Soaring Society, and $80 for a flight lesson with Blue Sky Aviation Australia, at Beverley, 90 minutes drive from Perth.