Chirundu Tales - Part 9

CHIRUNDU TALES  (PART 9)

The closing down of the project which resulted from Rhodesia’s UDI was, I was happy to say, a fairly protracted process.  My contract was due to expire in mid 1967 and naturally I did not expect the Council to renew it but somewhat surprisingly, I was asked to extend my contract to oversee the final closure of the Chirundu station. 

The time spent in the valley was exciting to put it very mildly and many of the events that occurred during that period are still firmly lodged in my memory although I have to admit, it is sometimes jogged by Helen, my wife. The people we met became good friends for the most part and some of them, with whom we had lost contact, have popped up from time to time in various ways.  A good example is the Williamsons, Basil and Pebbles who have already been mentioned in this series.  When the station closed Basil joined the game department and was stationed in Wankie.  I joined the Veterinary Department and we ended up in Mtoko so we lost contact.

Some years later we were living in Jamaica and were entertaining a couple of Rhodesians for dinner.  It transpired that the wife had previously been a tour guide based in Wankie National Park and knew the Williamsons well.  It was from her that we heard the sad news of Basil’s passing.  Nevertheless in the course of the evening, the news did generate a lot of laughs as tales from the past emerged.

Having recently read Peter Godwin’s book “FEAR – The Last Days of Robert Mugabe” the Williamson name re-appeared in the form of Pebbles and ‘Spike’, who we assume must be Craig, the well behaved baby who was carried in a specially fabricated cot in the back of Basil’s Land Rover on our trip to Chewore. In the book Spike boasted of his dad’s ability to urinate over a signpost at the “Waterbuck Head” pub. I think we can beat that one!

Whilst we were camping at Mana Pools one weekend, there was a 21foot boat parked upside down at the ranger camp.  Basil was proud of his talent for long range urination and was prepared to take on bets that he could clear the boat without putting a drop on it!  I don’t remember what bets were made but I can confirm that Basil won!  Actually Helen was also able to confirm this as she came around from behind one of the ranger huts as the event was in progress!

Another of Basil’s party tricks was the passing of wind regardless of who was within earshot.  He would point his forefingers, pistol fashion, at one of the people present and let go! Again Mana Pools features in the next story.  As usual we set up our beds around a campfire which by morning had died down to a few smoking embers. Out of the early morning silence came the unmistakable sound of one of Basil’s inimitable discharges.  The response from the rest of us could have almost been rehearsed as everyone simultaneously shouted “Basil”!   He denied being the guilty party saying if it had been him, the fire would have burst into life.  No sooner had he said it than the fire did burst into flames!

As things began to wind down on the station we started making plans for the disposal of the wide range of assets. A major asset was our herd of cattle which over the years had increased considerably despite our having sold many to the Chirundu  Estate.  Our plan was to retain about 50 head for use in the rundown of the experimental work on the station.   The balance, about 100 head, were to be sold in batches of about 20.

We advertised them in the press and one weekend I was visited by a butcher from Karoi who was interested in buying all of them. He arrived one Saturday evening and was able to examine most of the animals before sunset.  He spent the night with us and asked if he could do a spot of hunting the following morning.  Legally this was a non starter as he was not a Chirundu resident  or a member of the Chirundu Hunters Association but I had a couple of animals left on my current hunting licence so I agreed to bend the rules a little bit and let him shoot an impala and a warthog on my behalf. He was very excited as he had brought a brand new 30.06 rifle, fitted with a scope sight with him and was keen to try it out.

We left early on Sunday morning and did not travel very far before we came across a herd of Impala.  The butcher had a shot that was definitely a miss but I put it down to “Buck Fever” and suggested he try and calm himself down before the next shot.  Sadly this did not work for the next and several more shots.  I was satisfied that he had completely missed with every shot he fired  and there were no woundings but have to admit I ran out of patience and told him so.  On the way back to base I was able to bag an Impala and a warthog so he went back to Karoi well supplied with meat.  Actually on our next day trip to Karoi he presented us with a large parcel of boerewors which had to be the nicest we had ever tasted.

Late in October 1967 Helen and I were guests of ranger Cliff Freeman for a boating weekend at Mana.  We travelled down in our boat on the Saturday and were the only visitors to the park as it was closed for the rainy season.  On the Sunday morning Cliff took us on a boat patrol down river during which we were to do a bit of fishing at one of his favourite spots.  On the way we encountered some Zambian poachers who had set out nets on the Rhodesian side of the river.  As soon as they saw us the paddled away to the Zambian shore leaving the nets behind.  We loaded the nets into Cliffs’ boat and continued the trip.  Having done a couple of hours fishing we set off back to Mana around lunchtime.

 Surprisingly we ran out of fuel several miles below the camp. I say surprisingly because Cliff assured us that he had done the same trip many times and a single tank of fuel was always enough.  Unfortunately when we ran out of fuel we were in a deep channel on the Zambian  side of the river and it would have been impossible for us to paddle to the South side without losing a lot of ground.  We decided to pull into the Zambian bank and pull the boat upstream as far as we could and then paddle across as quickly as we could without being carried too far down stream.  We beached on a sandbank and started off upstream pulling the boat.  In the course of this we encountered several crocodiles but they took off into the water and were no serious threat to us.  It was obvious that we could not reach the South bank without losing a lot of ground which was a daunting thought as none of us was wearing shoes.  At the same time we wanted to avoid being arrested by the Zambian authorities as feelings between Zambia and Rhodesia were not good to put it mildly.

In desperation I looked into the fuel tank and found that there was about a pint or so in the bottom.  The best we could do was to cut the fuel line and dip the end into the fuel which , with the tank tilted gave us at least a little usable fuel.  I sat with the tank tilted on my foot and pumped the fuel with the in-line pump.  As soon as the engine started we set off at a slow speed and luckily managed to reach the South bank.  As long as the fuel lasted we continued upstream but it did not last very long and we had to tie up.

The barefoot walk back to camp was anything but pleasant due to the presence of acacia thorns but we finally made it. We decided that running out of fuel as we did must have resulted from the extra weight of the nets we were carrying.

About this time I was invited to participate in a game catching operation at Mana by Harry Cantle who had taken over from Boyd Reese as Senior Warden at Marangora.  We were looking to catch young impala which involved to use of spotlights as the young animals were very effectively hidden  by their mothers and were very difficult to locate. We literally had to creep up on the hidden lambs and at the last minute jump in and snatch them.  A problem we had was that the rains were imminent so time was not on our side.  Added to this, the moon phase was not on our side  and the use of spotlights  was not possible as they were ineffective whilst the moon was shining.  We decided to try and get some sleep soon after dark and start the operation as soon as the moon set.  This worked well for us for several nights.

Each night operation concluded as soon as dawn began to break and we would return to camp for a welcome cup of coffee and breakfast.  One morning, I was the first back in camp and was in the process of making a brew when I heard the distant sound of a vehicle and a lot of laughter.  In the quiet of the early dawn, noise travelled a long way.  Actually the laughter grew louder and continued until the party arrived back at camp, still laughing.

Apparently they had sent in one of the rangers ( who I will not name) to make the catch and as he was approaching the animal, Harry, who was holding the spotlight, happened to notice a movement to one side.  It turned  out to be a leopard that was stalking the same impala as the ranger!  Always up for a laugh, Harry decided to see what would happen so the crew with him were able to watch the event unfold.

As the ranger was about to pounce on the animal, the leopard had the same idea and according to the onlookers, the leopard won the race by a couple of feet and disappeared into the darkness complete with the unfortunate impala!  When they reached camp I could see that the ranger concerned was far from amused but it certainly got a laugh out of his colleagues.

On new years’ eve we were invited by Ranger Henry Pringle and his wife Jacqui to spend the evening with them at Marongora.  A braai was arranged and was attended by the Cantles’, Bobby and Tammy Thompson,  and Charlie Ross who was the Senior Tsetse Field Officer  stationed at Makuti, 10 miles away.  Despite being in the middle of the rains it was a clear dry evening so we sat outside and listened to the multitude of night sounds that emanated from the surrounding hills.

When midnight approached, Charlie, who was a true Scotsman, surprisingly produced a set of bagpipes and offered to play Auld Lang Syne to welcome in the new year.  We decided to form a chain like a Conga dance and with Charlie in the lead, proceeded up and down the tracks in the camp.  It was a very unique way to bring in the new year but Harrys dogs did not entirely agree.  As soon as Charlie pumped up the pipes and started to play, the dogs let out almighty yells which disturbed the baboons in the nearby hills which in turn provoked a reaction from the odd leopard or two.

The cacophony that resulted is very hard to describe but we had to admit, it was one new years’ eve we would never forget.