This kayak trip happened on the 24th of May, 2024. We paddled from Dubova to Orșova on the Romanian side of the Danube in the border area shared with Serbia.

The Dog That Wouldn’t Let Go

I woke up still carrying the stress from the previous bunch of days. Fixing the boat, deciding the route, waiting out the weather, full phone storage, and packing. It’s not nice to not trust our boat anymore. Whether the patch will hold. Whether there will be a new leak. Or some new unforeseen fuckery. It’s exhausting.

After getting ready, we walked downstairs and out of the guesthouse. Dog was ready to greet us, no surprise there. And then he followed us to the Danube. Also unsurprising.

We’d chosen to go back to our landing spot, even though we don’t like it very much. There are just no amazing launch spots in Dubova to start from within a reasonable walking distance. It’s settling for the familiar; maybe it’s a pain in the ass and generally unpleasant, but it’s the pain in the ass we already know of and have dealt with before. So we pumped up the boat at the abandoned construction site not even a hundred meters out the door.

Dog was there, looking at us pumping up the boat, occasionally running away to bark at the lonesome sheep behind a fence on the property next to us. Pissing against anything. Very dog-like.

We made sure he didn’t piss against our Zucchini or our dry bags. Pumping up the boat and making sure everything is alright to carry us 20 kilometers downstream is already a lot to deal with. I don’t want to mind a dog as well.

When we were ready to launch, we carried Zucchini down the loose embankment. We moved a lot of sand and gravel, but we made it down there. Dog was also there at the water. He grabbed an empty plastic beer bottle, waiting for us to play fetch with him. I can’t stand the sound, so I offered him a stick instead. But then I saw the stick had a nail sticking out of it, so I had to find him another one even though he got very enthusiastic about the one with the nail. I tossed a smooth stick towards the road as far as I could and hopped in the boat with Jonas to paddle away. Like cowards. Like dads that go out to buy milk.

Starting time: 8:53 Romanian time—I have finally embraced it.

I took some photos and videos. The Gulf of Dubova looked amazing in this calm morning weather. And then, I spotted Dog, dashing down the embankment, hesitating for a very short moment before stepping into the water and beginning his swim towards us.

Oh no.

I grabbed my paddle to contribute to our escape from Dog. We both paddled at a good speed, looking back sometimes to see if Dog is still chasing us. It wasn’t hard to out-paddle him. Though he’s a Very Large Dog, right now he’s just a head in the water. I was worried about him, but all we can do right now is make him give up.

He chased us for a surprisingly long time. We had to paddle for five minutes straight through patches of plants with croaking frogs and past moorings made of plastic bottles. When we were quite far out, I saw him turn around and go back to the land. Finally. It only took five whole minutes.

I still feel terrible. But why does Dog do this shit? I am now 100% convinced that if we’d not hitchhiked away from Dog the day we did the hike to the viewpoints of the Ciucarul Mare two days prior, he would have followed us for the entire-ass hike. And I would not have enjoyed that.

But let’s go paddle to Orșova. It’s time to move on.

Romanian Water Police + Kayaking the Little Kazan Gorge

A cruise ship zipped down the Danube, another droned up. It was a very busy morning in the Kazan Gorges area. It’s also Friday, which is basically the weekend for some.

We weren’t even completely across the Gulf of Dubova yet when a motorboat popped out of the Little Kazan Gorge (Romanian: Cazanele Mici) we were hoping to dive into. It was headed straight for us. It also looked a bit bigger than the small tour boats that enter the Ponicova Cave.

Water police? Romanian, presumably?

Yes they were. And they cut the engine and approached us a little slower. But also in an awkward way because they were kind of swirling towards us. We stopped paddling completely to make our course more predictable, to no avail.

I said Buna (1), but the guy on the boat who was sticking his head out was still a little far away (2). The old fellas swerved their boat a bit much and inelegantly, compared to the competent younger guys from the day to Donji Milanovac. Very annoying that they were not steering in a predictable, non-threatening way.

Once they were close enough, we tried to find a common language to speak in. We tried English, but it wasn’t clear which one of us (3) would do the talking. Jonas managed to convey that we started in Dubova, like 10 minutes ago, and that we were paddling to Orșova today. Eventually, they decided we spoke the truth, or they didn’t understand (4) but we seemed to pose no threat to national security and they left.

What went wrong this time? At some point, we will need to debrief. But not now, because we’re kayaking into the Little Kazan Gorge and there’s traffic.

The traffic came from two sides. One cruise ship going down, and one going up. They’d pass each other just inside the Gulf of Dubova. They didn’t need that much space to pass each other, but we didn’t want to be near the situation. So we awkwardly floated at the entrance while the water police people were still somewhere upstream from us.

Once the cruise ship traveling upstream called “France” had passed, we went in, carefully looking over our shoulders. I must say that the Little Kazan Gorge wasn’t super spectacular as the cliff walls don’t tower that far above us. But it was very beautiful!

The Romanian road to our left looked rather skinny and curvy, but from the water level, we can’t see how big the road truly is. Judging by the speed of the vehicles, the road is rather wide and safe for such speeds, or the drivers are quite reckless. It can’t be both.

Mraconia Monastery + Decebalus

Next up was the Mraconia Monastery. It only has one attractive side, which is from upstream looking downstream. We kayaked closer and took some nice photos of what I shall describe as the Lake Bled-like site of Romania. When the waters are calm and reflect it, there are similarities between the two. However, the other side of the monastery has a very attention-grabbing giant Romanian flag – similarly jarring to the giant Serbian flag painted in the Great Kazan Gorge I critiqued the other day – painted on the concrete with bronze plaques of… famous Romanians, I guess? It breaks the illusion of a peaceful place.

The original Mraconia Monastery dates back to the 16th century, but it has been destroyed during war. Communist times saw its demolition in favor of building the Iron Gate I dam, which isn’t far from here anymore. The current monastery dates back to 1993. If the Danube water levels drop enough, it’s possible to see the cross-shaped foundation of the original church. Not today.

After the monastery, we had to immediately paddle under the bridge to visit the rock sculpture of Decebalus. This is probably the site I’ve been looking forward to the most with regards to restarting the kayak trip this year.

Seeing it in real life was something surreal. It didn’t disappoint at all. And being this far below the Decebalus rock carving was quite a humbling experience.

While taking photos, I joked with Jonas that we’d now entered the jungle temple level of the Danube. It felt like something from a videogame. And the Mraconia River valley is also so narrow and lush green that it feels like we’re entering a cloud forest.

We also paddled much closer to the statue than is probably good for the optics. We were quite below it and needed to use the wide-angle lens to capture some unique views. I wonder how close the small tour boats get. The big ones cannot pass under the bridge, but the small ones can get quite close, probably.

Tabula Traiana + Crossing Back to Romania

It was almost 10:00 when we paddled back under the bridge. Next up, time to cross to the Serbian side and check out the Tabula Traiana. I hoped we wouldn’t run into any more water police from either side. We checked behind us for any type of ship and crossed over to the Serbian side. After that, we quickly left the Little Kazan Gorge behind us. The Danube widened, but we were tight with the Serbian cliffs, which had some spectacular rock formations partly drowned by the water.

A small tour boat overtook us from behind. As we turned right, we spotted another boat coming upstream after hovering in one place. The big ship headed towards us and carried quite some people. I read the name of the boat, ‘Flamingo’. As we kayaked between the ship and the cliffs, the crowd went from silent to wild and wanted us to wave back. I nodded, Jonas waved. More cheering. Yes, we are all on boats.

We soon arrived at the Tabula Traiana, which is a plaque that commemorates the completion of the Roman road to Trajan’s Bridge, much further east from here, in the year 103. When Iron Gate I dam was constructed, the authorities carved the plaque out of the rock and moved it up to prevent it from disappearing into the Danube. Unfortunately, the plaque was covered in scaffolding during our visit. Not how I imagined this moment, but alas, we make do.

I tried reading the bits and pieces, but there wasn’t much visible. Also, there was quite some graffiti in Serbian. It seems in general that a lot of people feel like inserting themselves in this piece of history by carving their own names in it. I wonder what mental illness gives one the audacity to do that.

We continued paddling at 10:27. We followed the Serbian side of the coast for a few more kilometers until the valley of Eșelnița and the turn to Orșova appeared. That happened around 11:00, when we started to slowly cross the Danube from right to left, back to Romania. A cargo ship with 2×3 barges traveled upstream very slowly. It’s crazy that something so long and wide will pass through the canyon with these crazy tour boats.

As we approached the middle of the river, something else appeared downstream from us in front of the Serbian town of Tekija. It was another cruise ship. We kept paddling in a way to cross the Danube while keeping an eye on the course of the cruise ship. It wasn’t a problem, but I did feel a little vulnerable all the way out there.

On the Romanian side, we tried to get closer to the shores, but within short succession, three small speed boats appeared around the river bend. Their wake was a little nasty to deal with. But we made it across. And now the kilometer signs were also back. Next to an irretrievable caravan, a sign indicating 959 kilometers to go to the Black Sea. We were both hungry, so Jonas grabbed the sandwiches.

At 11:43, we stopped on a small beach below a cliff for a little land break. After 16 minutes, we continued.

Paddling the Orșova Curve + Arrival

We hadn’t finished eating yet, so I was mostly chomping down on my sandwich when we got back in Zucchini. Jonas paddled while I ate, then we switched. A few minutes later, the Flamingo passed us again—this time quietly.

There were lots of coves on the Romanian side. Some of them have hiking trails leading to them, according to my map. Some of the big coves closer to the Iron Gates Natural Park (Parcul Natural Porțile de Fier) office had pedestrian bridges crossing them, but they were all rusty and partially fallen into the water. We’d had enough side quests for today, so we didn’t make the detour to check out the (lack of) structural integrity up close.

It was noon. The weather forecast had been spot-on today and it was very windless and pleasant. Exactly the right weather for kayaking in this area. And as we were turning, the little bit of wind that did exist started coming from the back.

We saw the start of Orșova. There are summer homes on the outskirts of the town, hugging the relief. The first holiday homes come with barking dogs. It’s Friday, so people are coming over for the weekend. Luckily, none of the dogs felt the urge to jump into the water to chase us away.

As we rounded the Orșova curve into the flooded Orșova Valley, we could also see what’s up for our next paddling day. It’s the Sip Gorge, the final gorge in the Iron Gate canyon. Beyond its curve is where the Iron Gate I dam is, which is the most intimidating one on the Danube as we haven’t found a way to portage around it. Will we have to kayak through the lock? Will the lock operators even let us?

A problem for another day.

It’s almost 13:00 and we’re through the curve. We pass a radar installation and a moored ship that looks like it is a hotel on the water. Abandoned, by the looks of it. One exterior aircon unit was severely damaged, probably by a boat.

We kayaked past the water police base of Orșova. Not where I had it mapped across the bay where Orșova train station is and also the port of Orșova. We won’t have to use their services, but this is probably where the old men spawned from earlier today. I’m fairly sure they didn’t overtake us in the last four hours.

Arriving in Orșova

It’s crazy to think that all the villages and cities on the Danube that exist today used to exist 35 meters under the water in 1967. All the people, their homes, businesses, and places of worship had to be moved up the hills and further inland. And let’s not even talk about what happened to the river island Ada Kaleh. New Orșova is pressed into a wall, judging by my map’s contour lines.

We paddled past the rowing club with its excellent launch spots, which almost never make sense to us. I spotted the peninsula of Orșova with its ‘lighthouse’. It didn’t look that maintained, unfortunately. But I was looking forward to staying here after six days in Dubova where there were few things available. Perhaps I can get my hands on some tofu, that would be rad.

As we paddled closer to shore, two men decided to strike up a chat with us. They were still 50 meters away from us and yelling at us. But I didn’t see danger around us and we’re not paddling to some guys just because they’re loud. They kept waving us over, insistent that we should come to them. Absolutely not. But one of us can wave back. Best we can do.

We hadn’t decided on a landing spot we were 100% sure of the day before. We just had to check it out. Below the Carrefour and its giant surface parking lot is a concrete embankment. Beyond that is a grassy-swampy area. As long as we find a way up the embankment beyond the concrete, we’re golden.

There was a man and a young boy doing stuff at their boat. We decided to land Zucchini on the other side of a grass ramp from them. We said hi and then got all our luggage out of Zucchini and carried her up the embankment. There was a nice park with benches where we could dry Zucchini, despite a bit of broken glass on the ground.

Jonas messaged the host in Orșova one hour before we’d check into the apartment, as per the agreement. We dried Zucchini quite well and then packed everything up and walked to the apartment building across the street. We are rarely this close to our apartment from our arrival spot.

Iron Gate I Lock Info from a Cruise Captain

At the door, we met a happy older man, who introduced himself as Sergio. He gave us the key and showed us the apartment. Sergio asked how we got here, and we said by kayak down the Danube. I pointed out the Decebalus statue that was on a shelf in the living room. He found it very interesting, and shared that he’s a cruise ship captain on the Danube and normally works in Austria. Jonas said we probably know his cruise ship, since we’ve passed all of them.

Sergio asked where we started our trip, and we said Donaueschingen. He needed to think a bit about where that is, because his type of boat cannot go that far up the Danube. But then he remembered where in Germany that is. Sergio mentioned that his types of big ships sail up the Danube to Kelheim, maximum.

It was all a lot of fun to talk to a professional on our favorite river. And then we had the brilliant idea to ask him if he knows anything about the Iron Gate I navigation locks here and how we could pass through the Danube’s largest dam in a kayak…

Sergio said we’d have to join a bigger ship on our descent. He grabbed his phone and called an acquaintance who worked at the Romanian side of the lock, to inquire if there’s a way for us to be there at the right time. There wasn’t. It’s just guesswork. He asked us if we have a VHF radio, which we said we don’t. AIS? Also nope.

He placed a few more calls while sometimes talking to us. Sergio also suggested that we’d look from the apartment when a big ship enters the Orșova Valley, and then get in the boat and follow. I told him we can’t set up that quickly and then chase after a (much faster) ship, but that otherwise it would be a good idea.

Unfortunately, MarineTraffic didn’t show any traffic between Golubac and the border triple border Romania–Serbia–Bulgaria. I have no idea why, but ships that exist in the real world drop off the radar in this area. Security reasons for the dam? I have no idea. I know the ships are in communication with each other; otherwise, they’d crash into each other in the canyons constantly.

So he suggested that we’d call his buddy at the lock on the day of paddling through Iron Gate I. And we’d have to mention his name. For serious paddlers, here’s the phone number:

Lastly, I asked Sergio about going through the lock on the Serbian side. Without much elaboration, he said we can’t do that. I’m not sure if the constant maintenance works on the locks are the issue or that the issue is that we’re checked into Romania and not Serbia. I know the TID is checked into Serbia when they paddle through the Iron Gate I dam. On the day of, they announce whether it’s the Romanian side or the Serbian side. And, of course, they will get an operating lock for their 100+ kayakers, whether there’s a companion cargo ship or not.

Our Stay in Orșova

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