THE BLUE EYED RANGER

THIS safari was only a part of a marathon one. Still without a 4×4 we had hired a brand new Volkswagen Kombi from the Avis Car Hire lady in Upington. Our plan was to go to the Namib Naukluft Park and Etosha National Park.  This chapter is about the second part of our journey as Jacques was reminiscing about this part of the trip whilst in Joburg for a business and a family lunch last Sunday.

From the Naukluft we drove to Swakopmund where we found accommodation in little A framed corrugated iron rooms used by fishermen. the Red Kombi was by this time a nightmare inside. I had been teaching the children some German phrases as Namibia was originally a German colony. So I prefaced the nouns by “und”. Young Shaun got out of the Kombi, put his hands on his hips while surveying the chaos within and pronounced “Und Mess!”

Our aim was the Etosha but we were ahead of schedule and wandered up the coast to Sesfontein keen to see the castle there. Once our tent was up Susan succumbed to a migraine and the children and I went off to see the castle where we met the German incumbent. He convinced us that we should go north to Eupopa Falls to see the Himba people. “A Volkswagen beetle went there not long ago!’

He also told us of a secluded spring nearby and so the children and I went back to Susan, pulled down the tent and embarked on a search for the spring. We found it and were the only ones there. How refreshing the clear water was; the kids were in like a flash. Then we told Susan of the German’s suggestion. Full of enthusiasm we departed two days later.

Throughout our journey other travelers, mainly large men with equally large vehicles had stared at the amazing sight of two women and four children aged between 10 and 3 all on our own in this wilderness. Jacque said he could still recollect those stares!

Around the fire one evening we were telling stories, making them up as we went along and the children came up with a story of me (single) meeting a handsome blue eyed game ranger and riding off into the sunset with him.

Now the Kombi was only a two by four and the road was rough. We battled on until we came across a dry riverbed. Unfortunately a little mistake in judgement landed the Kombi on a rock. The children and I left the vehicle and sat on the side while Susan contemplated what could be done!.

The drone of a lorry could be hear approaching. Help was near! The lorry braked abruptly and a handsome blue eyed game ranger alighted spitting with fury. “You ……stupid women! How the hell could you attempt this road!” I bristled. The German told us other people had done it and we believed him!”

He strode furiously to his vehicle, hauled out a towing rope whilst swearing fluently. “That so and so German! I will have his guts and you should have known better! Two women and four kids in this situation! I can’t believe it!”

He drove the lorry into the river and reversed it back to the Kombi. Attached the rope. Pulled our vehicle out of the river. He jumped out and shouted at Susan. “And now I am going to turn you around and tow you back through the river!

Susan was aghast. “But we only have to go over that hill to be in Eupopa!” Blue eyes was adamant. “This is my patch and you are going no further!” With that he got into the Kombi, turned it around, reattached the rope and pulled us through the river bed. His lorry roared back and over the hill.

Two tired women and four children gathered around the campfire, two gin and tonics and a couple of vodkas later we were laughing hysterically and a group of large men with their four by four were throwing very odd looks at us!

 

A WEST COAST CHARACTER

Paternoster is a small fishing village on the West Coast of South Africa. At least it was a small fishing village when this story started. Today it is trendy with the quaint West Coast cottages turned into restaurants or holiday cottages.

The name came from a wreck a long time ago. The crew could be heard singing the Lord’s Prayer as they waited for the ship to sink with no possibility of being saved.

The Paternoster Hotel was known far and wide for its grilled crayfish and enticing bar. One could sit on the stoep and watch the locals as they held out large red crayfish for sale and joked with their customers as only the coloured folk can do; all have a keen sense of humour.

On the other side of the headland is St. Helena Bay. Here is a fairly large harbour and along the coastline fishing factories that spew forth a vile smell when the wind is in the wrong direction.

Vasco de Gama the Portuguese sailor, landed here on 7^th November, 1497. He described the bay as calm and tranquil. He was the first European to meet the local Khoi people. There is a monument to his landing. The bay was named Bahai de Santa Helena after Saint Helena, a devout Christian and mother of Constantine.

Because of its position the local fisher folk called it “Die Agterrbaai.” (The bay at the back). One day I was exploring the area and came across a caravan parked near the shore. A burly man was bent over a fire cooking fish. I approached him and we chatted. His name was Pieter Pieterse and he was Afrikaans. His companion was an English woman, Jenny, but he called her “Die Engelsman.” (The Englishman)

Pieter Pieterse had his own television show where he showed his viewers how to cook the abundance of seafood that the West coast offered. I called on him many times and we would exchange tales of our travels. Pieter had traveled up and down this coast and ventured deeper into Africa as had I.

My daughter and I were planning a trip up to the Caprivi Strip in Namibia that runs along the top of Botswana to the confluence of the Zambezi and the Chobe river and where the borders of four countries meet. When I told Pieter he made me promise to stay at his camp on the Kwando River up there. Then he gave me his little seafood recipe book and inscribed it in Afrikaans “Aan Molly wie ook weet van die ver plekke. Mooi Loop.” Translated it means “To Molly who knows about the far places. Go Well.”

We duly traveled well through Botswana up the Western delta, crossed the border into Namibia, camping at Popa Falls. Popa Falls is right at the corner where one turns either left to Rundu or right to Katimo Mulilo. The falls are really a series of rapids where the river runs down the Western delta. This river rises in Angola and when it rains there the river comes down and floods the Okavango Delta. The flood spreads out like the fingers of a hand forming channels and islands. Then comes the dry season and the water recedes waiting for the next flood.

The Caprivi Strip runs directly from West to East depending upon which was you are traveling and has an interesting history. Before Nambia became a German protectorate the area was known as Itenge and for a long time was ruled by the Lozi kings, later becoming part of British Bechuanaland Protectorate. (Botswana)

At the Berlin Conference (1890) Count Leo von Caprivi, was the German negotiator. There it was agreed between Germany and Britain that the strip would be added to German South West Africa allowing Germany access to German East Africa and in return Germany would relinquish her interest in Zanzibar and the North Sea Island Heligoland that Britain had. The treaty was known as the Heligoland. So it was done; however Germany had forgotten that the Victoria Falls stood in the way and so the access to German West Africa (Tanzania) was blocked.

The following morning we set off east until we came to a track running alongside the Kwando River. The going was bad with thick sand and along the riverside the vegetation high. However we finally found the entrance to Pieter’s camp. What a delight! A reed and wood structure right on the high bank of the river. Bird feeders hung everywhere. The children (we traveled with Susan’s four children aged between four and ten) were delighted with it and spent their time feeding the bulbuls and birdwatching.

After two days we headed east again until we came to Katimo Mulilo, the capital of the Zambezi region, Namibia’s far eastern extension. The name comes from the SiLozi language and means douse the fire. In the early days the Lozi people would paddle their canoes down or across the river carrying the coals of their fire. They often moved their villages when the river flooded. The embers were for re-lighting a fire when they arrived at their destination.

The South African army was stationed at Katimo Mulilo as from 1940 to 1981 the government administrated Nambia after the end of the Second World War. This was a period when they were fighting the ANC and Swapo the revolutionary forces of Nambia and South Africa.

Whilst there, for some unknown reason the Commander of that unit decided to build a toilet in a large baobab tree! My grandson Shaun was determined to have his photo taken in the toilet as his father had been stationed there and had told him about it.

From there we took the Ngoma gate road crossing into Botswana and the long road south back to Robertson where Susan lived on a thoroughbred stud farm with her husband who was the stud manager. Here I picked up my car and made my way back to the West Coast. A few days later I had a glass of Robertson wine with my friend Pieter and told him all about our travels, a far cry from his camp on the Kwando River some 2000 kilometres north east of where we sat.

Sadly my friend died a few years later in tragic circumstances leaving his “Engelsman” alone. I still treasure his recipe book and many a time have consulted it, especially when snoek were running. This long game fish is much like a barracuda. It is very good on the braai (barbecue) basted with apricot jam!