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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781490721316 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Trafford Publishing |
| Publication date: | 03/27/2014 |
| Pages: | 206 |
| Product dimensions: | 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.63(d) |
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MBAZO
FOOTPRINTS THROUGH THE KRUGER NATIONAL PARK
By Lynn van Rooyen
Trafford Publishing
Copyright © 2014 Lynn van RooyenAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4907-2132-3
PREFACE
In hindsight, I wish to make an apology, especially to my wife, children, and parents, if I disappointed them with my silence through all the years. Through this book, however, I will attempt to make up for this by sharing, especially, the joys of my work environment and experiences in the KNP with you. My work was 'work' but at the same time was my 'hobby/ passion' and gave me a great measure of satisfaction. I hereby wish to dedicate this book to all of you.
One of my personal work ethics was never to try and impress anyone else but myself with anything that I accomplished; after all, I could fool others but not myself. Self-satisfaction was only achieved after I met the very high demands that I placed on myself. If my seniors were satisfied with my work performance, they could deploy me within the KNP as they pleased, and I would tackle the challenge to the best of my ability. I had a very good work relationship with all my colleagues, of whom only a few were real friends. I never misused friendships for self-promotion. The ill-informed could very well interpret the above and come to the conclusion that I had no ambition. My ambitions, however, were founded in a self-analysis that occurred in a bizarre way for me.
An annual helicopter census was required for the proper ecological management of the elephant and buffalo populations in the KNP. Elephants were counted individually with special attention to the identification and counting of calves younger than one year. This enabled us to calculate the annual percentage growth of the population. For the buffalo, we adopted a different method. Lone bulls were counted individually. The large herds of buffalo were split into smaller groups by expert flying by the helicopter pilot. Such smaller groups were photographed and counted from the photographs after the completion of the census surveys. Numbering and record-keeping of the films and individual photos was not child's play. The elephant census numbers usually varied between 7,000 and 8,000 animals, while the buffalo added up to approximately 30,000 animals. I do not wish to delve deeper into the management aspects of these censuses. The elephant and buffalo censuses, however, will later clarify who and what I am and why I did things the way I did during my period of service.
During the elephant and buffalo censuses, Letaba Rest Camp played a major role. Census teams, including the helicopter pilots, were accommodated and rotated there. The photographer/archivist, unfortunately for him, had to participate in the entire census. This amounted to 125 flying hours for the whole KNP. No need to state that these occasions ended up in an evening barbecue of ten to twelve people. Later, after the first few beers, everyone became very talkative, and they described or rather 'bragged', about what each one had achieved and what each still wanted to achieve in life.
Examples of such bragging were:
'I have apprehended so many poachers.'
'So many wounded/injured lions have attacked me, and then I shot them at 5 m distance.'
'I had to shoot a huge elephant bull at 10 m with a single shot as it charged at me.'
'The largest barbell/tiger fish I have caught was ...'
'The most beers I have had to drink at one party were ... and then I was really sick.'
'At one stage in my life, I had five girlfriends.'
'I still want to row the Duzi Marathon/Orange River.'
'I still want to climb Kilimanjaro.'
That was the content of 'campfire talk'. I never drank any alcoholic beverages, and I never became talkative around the campfire. Others must have thought that I was a rather dull sort of character.
The different groups would then retire to bed. I was usually the last one to leave as I would see to it that all had reached their beds safely, and I would tidy the mess left behind.
I will return to the above story shortly. The photographer/archivist of the elephant and buffalo censuses and his wife were dear colleagues and friends. Discussions with his wife were always special. Before the barbecues started, we used to speculate on who would be 'bigger, better, and stronger' than anyone else that evening. During the barbecues, she sat opposite the fire from me. Time and again during the narration of one or other big story, she formed her mouth as if to say 'Wow', while looking at me to confirm our discussion before the barbecue.
Once in bed, after a long and tiresome day, I would fall asleep quickly. I seldom dreamt, but on one occasion, the discussions around the fire must have stuck in my subconscious because I then dreamt of the lady mentioned above, and I remember we were involved in a heated argument. At one stage in my dream, she asked me: 'Who the hell do you think you are?'
I replied with the following:
'Who I am?'
I have never wanted to climb the highest mountain
I have never wanted to swim the deepest sea.
I have never had to shoot a raging elephant bull
Nor have I been stalked by a pride of lions
But even if it were so
Nobody else but I need know.
I have never wanted to fly to the furthest horizon
Nor have I hurled the biggest cat
I am not a computer fundi
Nor am I a financial giant
But nowhere will you ever find
A more loyal and committed KNP subject around.
I have always believed in a gracious God, not above us, but down here amongst
us.
I have always showed dignity towards all humankind.
I am committed to righteousness and self-discipline
All year round
But most of all, I am utterly content
Just being little old me.
Having uttered the last line, I woke up and realised it was a dream. I grabbed pen and paper and jotted down what I had declared in my dream.
That was the first and last time I ever did a self-analysis.
The silences on my experiences in the KNP are based mostly on the following two declarations in my self-analysis, i.e.:
'Nobody else but I need know.'
'But most of all, I am utterly content just being little old me.'
* * *
We, the four brothers, and our four cousins (three brothers and a sister) made contact with Mother Nature at a very early stage. We four brothers grew up on the farm 'Rustenburg' in the district of Grey town in Natal (now Kwazulu-Natal). The four cousins grew up on a farm in the district of Hluhluwe (Zululand) in Natal. By coincidence, we were all together during 1954 and 1955 on the farm 'Rapids' in the district of Letaba in the Transvaal (now Limpopo). The farm was situated on the Letaba River, approximately 70 km upstream from the Kruger National Park (KNP). As youngsters, we went to school in Gravelot and were boarded in the school residence. Most importantly, we spent weekends and school holidays fishing in the Letaba River, shooting vervet monkeys and birds in the orange and pawpaw orchards and tomato fields and cycled until we were totally exhausted. Our weaponry consisted of a .22 Brno rifle, a 1912 BSA model airgun, and a Daisy pellet gun, which were carried on hunting trips in order of our seniority. My eldest brother carried the .22, I carried the airgun and my eldest cousin carried the Daisy pellet gun. The rest of the hunting group had either catapults (ketties) or home-made arrow guns.
On one occasion, the hunting group came upon the tracks of a large cat. After much arguing, we concluded that these were the tracks of a lion. The lion most probably came from the KNP. That, however, was of no concern to us as we were sure that the lion was after our cattle. That could not be tolerated, and the lion had to be put down. After thorough deliberation, it was decided that we would follow the tracks and that the potential cattle thief should be put down. My brother, with the .22 rifle, led the hunting expedition; I followed with the airgun, followed by our cousin with the Daisy pellet gun, with the intention of killing anything that moved at the first attempt. The rest with their catapults and toy arrow guns would provide backup fire, should it be necessary. At that stage, my eldest brother must have been about 11 years of age, my eldest cousin and I, were 9 years old, and the rest were all younger, with the youngest being approximately 4 years old.
I can still recall the pathetic hunting expedition of eight 'heavily armed members' following the lion tracks on a forlorn game path in the hazy late afternoon sun. Fortune smiled upon the lion as the hunting expedition commenced about 1 hour before sunset. One of us was either very sharp or too scared and warned after half an hour that if we did not turn around, we would walk home in the dark after sunset. It so happened that we were all more scared of the dark than we were of the lion. Later on in life, I often wondered what would have transpired had we come across the lion. I am not one to attach human characteristics to animals but wondered what the lion would have thought observing a 4-year-old charging at it with a toy arrow gun. I now thank the Lord that we did not cross paths with the lion nor confront it. I do not recall that any of us brothers or cousins ever boasted about that failed hunting expedition. Was it perhaps that we never came across the lion, or was it because none of us would inherently 'brag' about such an occasion? I believe the latter was the correct reason.
During 1956, we moved back to Greytown from the farm 'Rapids' because the fruit and vegetable markets could not sustain the two Van Rooyen families on one farm. My father was a motor mechanic by trade. With our return to Greytown, he returned to the trade. He had participated in motor racing events in his younger days, and I, therefore, grew up in a mechanical environment where motor vehicle engines were taken out and repaired. My childhood dream was to become the first South African Grand Prix world champion driving my own designed and built racing car. We, however, maintained contact with the farm 'Rapids'.
The farm was situated next to the farm 'Eiland', a provincial nature reserve with hot water springs, tourist accommodation, and game drives. During one of our holiday visits to Rapids, the nature conservation staff of Eiland were in the process of planning game-reduction operations. The operation consisted of the game being herded on horseback into catchment enclosures. It was a time-consuming and complicated process. Amongst others, they had a crazy mare that would never run in front but rather in the bunch or at the back. She was crazy because, on seeing another horse in front jump over a trench or barricade, she would also jump right there where she was. By the time she reached the trench or barricade, she would have no more jump in her. She would go straight into the trench or barricade, much to the consternation of the rider. Needless to say, each new member of the game-catching cavalry was given the privilege of starting off on the crazy mare, much to the delight of the colleagues.
My father was a creative designer and built all kinds of technical gadgets. All the frustrations associated with capturing the game at 'Eiland' triggered his creative mind to develop a better method or apparatus to improve the catching of game. That was the commencement of the crossbow-and-dart era which later would develop into a very sophisticated chemical (muti) method of catching game.
Back in Greytown, the development of the crossbow and dart resulted in my father leaving the motor mechanic trade to attend full-time to perfecting and building the crossbow and dart equipment. During this period (1961-1963), I often joined my father in his workshop, calibrating crossbows, testing darts, and developing an intense interest in micrometers and tolerances of 1/1,000 of an inch (2.54 cm), setting lathes, and sharpening chisels and drill bits, etc. This resulted in me joining my father when he had to demonstrate crossbows and darts to potential buyers, obviously all from the nature conservation fraternity. As a result, we met many KNP staff who later became very close friends, particularly Dr U de V (Tol) Pienaar (Oom Tol to me), who at that stage was head of the Research Section of the KNP. Also Messrs. Johan Kloppers (Oom Johan), Dirk Swart, Mike English, Solomon Joubert, and others (all Section Rangers). I have to explain the 'title' 'Oom'. When you were a kid, any male person who was 10 years older than yourself was addressed as 'Oom' as a token of respect. Your father's brother was also addressed as 'Oom' in family context. The appropriate English equivalent would be 'uncle', which is not the same as 'Oom' in the first mentioned context.
One of our visits to the KNP stemmed from the desire of KNP Management for more information on the movements of elephant bulls, particularly in the northern regions of the KNP. My father and I overloaded our 1959 Morris 1000 with all the necessary camping equipment to join Oom Tol at Skukuza. From there, we moved to Shingwedzi and further on to a camping site at N'waxitshumbe. There, Oom Johan Kloppers (District Game Ranger at Punda Maria), Dirk Swart (Section Game Ranger at Shingwedzi), and Mike English (Section Game Ranger at Shangoni) awaited us at the campsite. Oom Chris Lombaard was Oom Tol Pienaar's righthand man at Skukuza, being the Chief Technician in the Research Section. For the above expedition, Oom Chris acquired a small Honda generator to provide lighting around the campfire and during the preparation of meals.
During the first sunset — and what a beautiful one it was — Oom Chris 'started' the generator for the first time; I observed some grumbling among the field staff, who were not content with the loud 'prrrrr ...' disturbing the silence or the night sounds. After the second or third round of drinks, Oom Johan, Dirk, and Mike invited me to join them and excused themselves from the campfire to go and relieve ourselves of all the liquid. They enquired whether I liked the noise of the generator. I responded negatively, and they invited me to join them. We stalked the generator, and Oom Johan instructed me to take off the petrol cap and to urinate into the petrol tank. Who was I to argue with the adults or to refuse his instruction? Within a few seconds, the generator produced a 'pr ... pr ... puff', and everything was clothed in darkness, and the quiet of the nightlife fell on us.
With a 'Tsk ... tsk', Oom Chris took a flashlight and walked off to inspect the generator. After half an hour, he had cleaned the generator's carburettor of all the water in the float chamber. His explanation was: 'It was probably water from the petrol jerry cans.' We field staff (I was now one of them) had Oom Chris take the carburettor apart to clean another three times before he capitulated, and at last, we had quiet around the campfire. As a school kid, I was impressed with this desire for quiet around the campfire in the bush as well as the camaraderie amongst the field staff.
* * *
After my military service (1964), I moved to the University of Stellenbosch to study Mechanical Engineering to give expression to my childhood dream of becoming the first South African World Champion racing driver that designed his own Grand Prix car. I sometimes questioned the need for the subjects Physics, Mathematics, Applied Mathematics, and Chemistry, but it was new to me and did contribute to my education. Engineering Drawing, Strength of Materials, and Building Science were interesting, developmental, and applicable. During a Mechanics lecture, we were exposed to the theory of a braking system — the application was based on the brake shoes of ox wagons — I became rather despondent. At that stage, I was already familiar with the theory and application of disc brakes, how it was developed for aircraft, then adapted for racing cars and later for high-performance sports cars. During engineering vacation work,
I soon realised that qualified engineers, having practiced the engineering profession for 5-7 years, were promoted to the levels of human resource management, and their hard-earned engineering qualifications were no longer of any relevance in their new posts. To say the least, I was rather disgusted with this state of affairs. I concluded, however, that in order to fulfill my childhood dream, I had to pursue my Mechanical Engineering studies.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from MBAZO by Lynn van Rooyen. Copyright © 2014 Lynn van Rooyen. Excerpted by permission of Trafford Publishing.
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