A car full of monkeys

In December 1964 I completed all but one of my courses to graduate with a Bachelor’s Degree, majoring in Zoology and Entomology, at Rhodes University in Grahamstown, South Africa.  With just one course remaining to complete, I decided to enroll in Accounting I, the first and only non-science subject that I would study during my time at Rhodes.  In a fortunate coincidence the long serving Senior Laboratory Technician in the department of Zoology & Entomology had resigned and would be taking a new position at another university. The Head of the Department, Professor Brian Allanson, asked me if I would be interested in filling the position.  I needed a job and thought the job description might be right up my alley; so, in January 1965 I became the Senior Lab Technician in the Zoology Department at Rhodes University.

There were many advantages to starting out my official working career in this field. Working on campus, I would be able to attend one-hour accounting lectures three times a week. I knew and enjoyed working with most of the department staff, lecturers and post-graduate students and researchers. I could continue to play rugby. The work required me and my small staff to prepare all of the lab equipment, chemical reagents, set-up microscopes and other equipment for laboratory for all students. Of course we had to clean up as well. I had to maintain adequate stock levels of all equipment and arrange to order or collect specimens for dissection. These would include frogs, dogfish, a variety of insects, worms and occasional reptiles.  I would also, from time to time, be required to go on field trips to collect specimens.  Many of these would be invertebrates (shellfish, crabs, starfish, mussels etc.) from the sea shore or fresh water streams and lakes in the area.

My 18 month tenure as Senior Lab Technician left me with many happy memories and unusual experiences.  I was able to take part in two remarkable research trips to the remote area of Northern Zululand (Tongaland), South Africa, to help the Zoology Department conduct Limnological  (Limnology: the study of inland waters) research on a previously little studied series of freshwater lakes. I played a role in planning these trips. Many years of camping and an enjoyment of camp-cooking served me well.  I remember making careful calculations of how many potatoes, eggs, pounds of sugar, coffee, meat, fruit, etc. would be required to feed 14 people for three meals a day for 12 days. We carefully loaded a green wooden, hinged-lid, box with 144 fresh eggs and placed it in the back of one of our Land Rovers. During the next two weeks only one of the 144 was rotten - not a bad average.  It was on one of these trips that I was able to witness giant sea turtles (leatherbacks) come ashore at night and lay their eggs on the Indian Ocean coast near a place called Black Rock – not too far south of the Mozambique border.

Vervet monkeys (Cercopithecus aethiops) in South Africa

In September 1965 Prof. Allanson told me that he wanted to surprise the Zoology Honours (honors) students with something different for their final (December) Practical Lab examinations and asked if I knew where we might be able to find about 12 primates.  I did in fact know that a friend of my dad, a rancher in the Middleburg area of the Karoo (a vast semi-arid region of South Africa) had been having problems with troops of Vervet monkeys raiding and damaging his crops.  I contacted Mr. Turner and he readily agreed that he would attempt to capture a dozen monkeys and sell them to us. I recall that the price was a very reasonable 50 SA Rand each.  This would allow Mr. Turner to pay his farm employees a bonus for the trouble they would have capturing these clever and elusive animals.  So, it came to pass that over the next two months, slowly but surely they were able to lure the monkeys into cages and transfer them into a holding pen where they were fed and watered.

When, at last, Mr. Turner had captured 14 monkeys he called me and said it was time to come and collect them.  The question was asked, “How are we going to euthanize them?”  He suggested we cover the wire enclosure where they were being held and pipe the carbon monoxide exhaust fumes from a vehicle into the cage. We assumed they would quietly and painlessly go to sleep and never wake up.

In the afternoon of the appointed day in early December I requisitioned a Rhodes University Land Rover Station Wagon, and taking a long length of 2 inch flexible hose with me, left Grahamstown for the 2-1/2 hour drive to the Turner Ranch some 230 miles northeast of Grahamstown. It was a drive along mostly deserted two-lane paved highways through beautiful, scenic country, over a few winding mountain passes , and with only the occasional small town to break the monotony of driving alone. I arrived at the ranch in the late afternoon and in typical South African fashion was greeted warmly and invited to stay for dinner.

A quick inspection of the monkey holding pen – resembling a large wire-covered chicken coop – confirmed that we had 14 lively and energetic Vervet monkeys in our possession. Before making our way to the house for dinner we sealed the enclosure tightly and attached the hose to the Land Rover’s exhaust. As soon as the engine was started there was a wild scrambling of monkeys as they reacted to the smell of the exhaust fumes. The noise quickly subsided as they succumbed to the fumes.  I went to dinner with a little queasiness in my stomach for what I was doing.

We enjoyed a very nice dinner and about two hours later it was dark and time to start the long drive home. We returned to scene of the primate extermination and one by one transferred the limp, but still warm, little bodies to the back of the station wagon. We said our goodbyes and I drove away. I should mention that there was a small sliding window separating the cab from the rear of the Land Rover. I always kept this open. It was also a moonless night and although the Milky Way filled the night sky, it was dark and lonely on those long, open stretches of road.   

For a while I listened to music on the radio, but before long I was out of range and reception was bad.  The head lights exaggerated the darkness of the desert and it felt like I was racing into a long dark tunnel, with nothing visible on either side of the road. It was just me and the primates.  As time passed I heard a sharp barking noise behind me, followed by what sounded like scratching.  For a brief moment I was as close to panic as I had ever been in my life; before or in the 46 years since.  I reached back and to my left and slid the small window closed, certain for a moment that I had seen a small human-like hand reaching through it.

The next hour was a complete nightmare as the noise levels and variety of sounds from the rear of the car increased. High pitched and low rumbling sounds increased in volume and frequency.  I just knew that the little guys, with the happy monkey faces, had woken up and were struggling to escape – or to attack me while I was concentrating on the road ahead.

Somewhere around 11:00 o’clock the welcomed lights of Grahamstown lay ahead and, arriving on campus I drove up the steep hill behind the Zoology Department.  I had the key to the back door of the building with me and inside that door was a room containing a large chest freezer.  I propped the storage room and freezer doors open and returned to the Land Rover to retrieve the bodies. It took me a while to summon the courage to open the back door.  Once it was open I realized what had been causing the sounds.  The smell of gas was almost overpowering.  As each animal’s body had begun to cool, gases from their slowly bloating stomachs began to be released. They were passing gas like the old ladies having tea in the opening scenes of “Gone With the Wind.”

My sense of relief that the monkeys had not woken up and were ready to attack was offset by my discomfort in moving those once lively and beautiful little creatures into a freezer for preservation in the cause of science.

A week later, the Zoology Honours students walked in to their final Practical Laboratory examination and were, evidently completely surprised to find they were to dissect and report on the internal organs of monkeys.  At least one of those students went on to become a medical doctor.  Others were to have successful careers in various fields of research and academics. And I, the specimen collector, would have dreams of little hairy hands reaching for me through a small car window, for many years to come.