Through puberty and beyond

 

Baobab tree near Victoria Falls

Little progress has been made in planning our 2012 trip to southern Africa.  We learned that we need to book our camps and activities in the Victoria Falls area by this coming May.  Following the big annual "Indaba" (travel industry conference) in South Africa, it is quite possible that new rates will come into effect, so we can lock in current rates by confirming our reservations with a 20% deposit.  Airline bookings can't be confirmed until 300 days in advance of our departure, so that means we must make hard decisions and pay for airfares in cold hard cash by September this year. South African Airways are currently promoting return airfares from the U.S. east coast to Johannesburg of US$1,030.  These are similar to fares we paid in 1996!

Typical highway road sign in Zimbabwe

Jan and I will find it hard to wait.  We have been to the Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, region a number of times over the last 14 years and we feel a powerful compulsion to return. Adding the proposed visit to Makololo Camp in Hwange National Park just makes the anticipation greater.  We've just received our new issue of Travel Africa magazine.  That will whet our appetites even more. http://www.travelafricamag.com/

Through puberty and beyond.

From our first day at Muir College my brother and I were asked if we were going to play rugby.  My glib answer was “sure,” even though I had no idea how it was played.  All students were required to participate in extra-curricular activities and there was a generous selection from which to choose.  The big winter sport was rugby and over 90% of students played.  In our American Elementary School environment, sporting activities were not organized for youth in the 1950s.  At Muir College, as in most South African schools, sports and athletic games began at the age of eight years. These included rugby, cricket (summer), tennis, swimming, field hockey, and athletics (track and field). 

Competition was at the core of both academics and sports and the emphasis was always on the “team.”  There were basically four “teams” in our school. Every student at Muir was assigned membership in a “house.” A modern day analogy could be drawn by comparing Harry Potter’s induction at Hogwarts into the house of Gryffindor, instead of Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw or Slytherin.  Muir College is not a school of magic and wizardry but it is developed from old British academic traditions, in many ways similar to those fictionalized by J.K Rowling.  Our four houses were, Sutherland, Dugmore, MacDonald,    and Innes. 

I was assigned to Sutherland House, although the ritual did not include a talking hat.  Membership in this house bound me and my brother to all Sutherland House members throughout the entire school, no matter what grade or age they would be.  Points were awarded over the course of the academic year for both academic achievement and sporting achievements.  Points accumulated by Sutherland and other houses were tallied and counted toward winning the highest points at the end of the year. This system gave every single student the ability to contribute points in helping their house compete.  For example, at our annual track meet, relay teams were “house teams.” If the team I was on came second or third in a relay event, points were added to Sutherland House scores.  Even though I didn’t come first or win an individual event myself, there was a strong incentive for me to participate and contribute to my overall team.

The day always began with assembly.  Students lined up in single file according to their grade level and walked into the main hall or, during summer (weather permitting) assembly might be held outside in the “quadrangle.”  The principal and all teachers would stand in front of us and after leading us in a brief prayer Skilly would make announcements of important schedule changes, events of note, or students’ awards or achievements.  We could always tell when there was going to be bad news or some disciplinary issue to be brought up as Skilly’s eyebrows would seem to bristle more than usual.  Assembly only took a few minutes, after which we would be dismissed and walk to our first class in single file. As the quad was surrounded on three sides by classrooms, we usually only had a short way to go.

Students who required discipline for which a verbal scolding or extra homework was inadequate might be sent to the principal’s office for “cuts.” Skilly would administer several hard strikes across the buttocks with a cane as the guilty students would bend at right angles with hands gripping the edge of the headmaster’s desk. The most severe punishment was six cuts.  We found out pretty quickly what “getting six” meant. I was basically an obedient and well-conforming boy and over the course of my five and a half years at Muir I never  qualified for “six” although “four” was administered a couple of times.

As I had arrived at Muir in late July, the rugby season was almost at an end.  I would take part in practices only in the following February.  As I would turn 13 in early February I would be eligible to play for the Under 13 age group. With only about 400 students, Muir was not a big school and there would be three Under 13 teams, U13A, U13B, & C.  With 15 players on a team, that meant that about 45 to 50 boys would represent the school against other schools in the Eastern Province area.  We would compete against 11 other schools.  Many were similar in size but there were a few very big schools, such as Grey College in Port Elizabeth, who would field eight or ten teams in any one age group.  So when we would play against Grey College our U13A team might play against the Grey U13B or C teams and our U13B’s might go up against their U13E or F teams.  These competitions had been evolved over the years, so generally high school and primary schools teams would be fairly challenged at competitive levels.

Under 14 Rugby team  I am 3rd from left, back row.

I was a skinny 13 year old, about 5 ft. 9 inches tall and weighing in at about 120 pounds, with little or no sports experience, when I began to take part in the sport of rugby.  All of the other boys had been playing the game since from primary school at about eight years old.  It took me a month or so to learn the tactics of the game but I settled into the full contact part very quickly.  The most difficult adjustment for me was my complete lack of stamina and shortness of breath.  The game was played at a non-stop pace for a 30 minute half with a five minute rest period, followed by  another 30 minutes of continuous play.  The other boys willingly guided me and I caught on fairly quickly.  After the first few inter-school matches I found myself a permanent member of the U13B team.  Over the next few years at the high School level and on into the University level, I grew to love rugby and had many enjoyable experiences playing it.  I was never an outstanding athlete, but I wasn’t bad either.  As a 17 year old “senior” in my last year of High School I was a solid player on the High School 2^nd team, or “2^nd XV” and I loved every minute of it.

Academically I was never outstanding, but I wasn’t bad either.  Our teachers were good; some were very good. Fifty years later it is hard to single out one or two teachers but I know they would all have been more than satisfied with my performance if I had applied myself a little more.  In any event I was able to go on to University and eventually earned a bachelor’s degree.  So I say – good for my Muir College teaching staff – you did it! I was one of 35 students who graduated from the school in December 1961.  Most went into military service; some went to work in apprenticeships in local industry. A minority went on to further their educations in some of the fine universities in South Africa.

Now, writing this some fifty years after my high school graduation, I know that the disciplined, collegial and very structured environment of Muir College was important in my life for another reason which I did not realize for many, many years.  At home my mother’s alcoholism began to reveal itself when I was 13 years old. Home was often a very stressful and difficult place to be.  My many friends and their families, and varied interests in school activities provided a solid refuge for some troubling teenage years. 

But more about those things in my next chapter, wherein I will discuss friendships, camping, and some interesting travels.

Muir College Crest

Learning to spell - and other distractions

Visiting Wankie Game Reserve in 1975

My first visit to Hwange Game Reserve was in 1967. I was an entomologist in the Tsetse Control division of the Department of Tsetse and Trypanosomiasis Control, which was part of the Department of Veterinary Services of the Rhodesian (now Zimbabwean) Government. Formerly called "Wankie," this game reserve was established in1928 under the supervision of a 22 year old conservation-minded young man named Ted Davison.  It was to become one of the finest Game Reserves in Africa. Davison's classic book "Wankie:The Story of a Great Game Reserve" was, for many decades, the definitive read for anyone interested in development of Africa's wildlife resources. 


The 14,600 sq.km. (5,637 sq. mile) park is the largest reserve in Zimbabwe.  It has been, perhaps, most noted for it's large population of elephant; drawn here by a series of watering holes established by Davison in the 1930s and 1940s. The western edge of the park is the border of Botswana and the vegetation transitions into the Kalahari desert there. 

Main Camp, Hwange Game Reserve, 1985

The prospect of returning to this unique wildlife preserve is causing me some excitement and that will build over the next 18 months.

Hwange elephant - August 1996

After spending three nights at Imbabala Camp, the African Bush Camps trip outline reads as follows:

 After an early morning activity and brunch, you will depart at 1100hrs to Victoria Falls Airport.
You will be driven east back to Victoria Falls airport, where you will meet your Sefofane Air pilot for your flight to Little Makalolo Camp, Hwange. The flight takes 1 hour, and you land at Makalolo Airstrip situated deep within the park on a private concession.



Little Makalolo, situated in a remote and private concession within the vast Hwange National Park, is one of the few camps built within the Park. Hwange is legendary for its wonderful array of wildlife, particularly the massive herds of elephant and buffalo, and summer sees the large antelope herds migrate onto the plains, closely followed by large predators.

The camp is built on the ground, providing panoramic unique views over the Little Somavundlha Pan with its excellent concentrations of wildlife. Accommodation consists of 6, comfortable tented rooms with en-suite facilities as well as an outdoor shower for those who enjoy showering under the stars. The lighting in the rooms is battery-powered so there is peace and quiet in camp, allowing one to listen to the sounds of the bushveld instead.

The main area has a lounge, pub, plunge pool and dining area where delicious meals are served. While the emphasis is on game drives, night drives and guided walks, well-situated hides or raised viewing platforms provide the ideal manner to while away the lazy midday hours, watching wildlife come down to the waterholes to drink.

There are a number of shallow pans spread throughout the Park, around which wildlife congregates, making for excellent and reliable game viewing. During summer plains game migrate onto the plains, closely followed by their predators. Elephant, Cape buffalo, sable, roan, southern giraffe, blue wildebeest, impala and sometimes even gemsbok (oryx) can be seen here.


This Park is one of the best for predators - lion, leopard, wild dog and cheetah are regularly sighted, along with the smaller African wildcat, serval, honey badger, civet and spotted hyena.

Bird life in the area is prolific, with more than 400 species found, and varied as species frequent teak woodlands as well as those more typical of the drier Kalahari being present.

3 nights at Little Makalolo Camp in a twin bedded tent, with en suite facilities, on an all inclusive basis.

 

Learning to spell - and other distractions

Muir College School Crest

 

My brother John and I had completed 6^th grade at C.A. Donehoo Elementary school in Gadsden, Alabama before traveling to South Africa.  Now, suitably outfitted in our new school uniforms we were to enter Standard 5 at Muir College Boys High School.  In South Africa schooling begins as Kindergarten I (KG 1), followed by KG II, then Standard 1, Std. 2 and so on.  So the seventh year of one’s schooling is Standard V (5). Eventually, in theory, we would finish High School by successfully completing the academic requirements of Standard X (10).  We would then have “matriculated” and moved on to higher education at a University.  In effect, because the U.S. school year ends in June each year and the South African school system ends in December, we would skip half a year, going from Grade 6 to a half year into Grade 7. 

Academic standards between the two school systems were not all that different.  I mostly remember having to catch up with a new history curriculum.  The settlement of the Cape Colony by the Dutch in the 1600s had not been a part of our history lessons in the 6^th grade in Alabama. The names Bartholomew Diaz, Simon Van Der Stel and Jan Van Riebeeck were unfamiliar to us.  A higher standard was demanded in English a stronger emphasis on written essays and reports.  Correct grammar, spelling and punctuation were required, without compromise.  Many words were spelled differently.  Neighbor, labor and just about all words ending in “or” were now to be spelled the old English way; Neighbour, labour, favour, vigour, etc. The transition in Math was not difficult.  In Social Studies we lost a little in the geography of Africa and the United Kingdom but had the upper hand on North American topics.  Generally speaking we were able to fall into the new system pretty easily and it didn’t take long to begin to catch up.

In 1956 South Africa there were two official languages taught in schools; English and Afrikaans.  In English schools Afrikaans was taught as a second language and vice versa in Afrikaans schools.  Afrikaans was derived from the old language spoken by the early Dutch settlers and farmers (“boers”).  A requirement for graduating (or Matriculation) was competence in two languages.  As our parents did not anticipate being in South Africa for more than my dad’s three year contract period we were advised to take Latin classes, knowing that Afrikaans wouldn’t transfer very well to any other country, if and when we were to move again.  So Latin was our second language and we would begin taking Latin in Standard VI.

Looking back, I found the transition to an all boys school system to be pretty easy.  We made friends easily.  Our southern accents were obviously a conversation starter but within about six months we had just about lost any outward evidence of our American origins.  (At home our diet still consisted of fried chicken, black eyed- peas and other traditional southern delicacies.)  The Muir uniforms in winter consisted of grey slacks, black leather shoes, white shirts with school tie and a blazer with dark blue vertical stripes with thin white and lighter blue stripes.  It was distinctive and a much better colour combination than many of the other school uniforms in the area.  In summer, we would wear cooler dark blue shorts with knee high socks that required elastic garters to hold them up.  There was also a “beany” cap required for younger students when walking to and from school or when wearing school attire in public.

Dr. Thomas Muir - 1914

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I mentioned the history of Muir College in an earlier blog.  There was a very strong feeling of history and tradition here, which was evident from the old buildings and many historic plaques on the walls of the main assembly hall.  The school had, after all, been established in Uitenhage 134 years before, in 1822, as the “English Free School.” 1822 to 1830 was a period of widespread chaos and destruction in the eastern and central parts of southern Africa, brought about by the expansion of the Zulu State under their powerful ruler, Shaka.  Putting this into even sharper historical context, it was only in1831 that Charles Darwin began his voyage on HMS Beagle to South America and the Galapagos Islands.  Slavery would be abolished in the British Empire in 1833.

My next blog will discuss school activities, competition and maintenance of one’s self-esteem in the decade of the 1950s.

 

Preparing for school in South Africa

The Zambezi River near Imbabala Safari Camp - 2001

Imbabala Safari Camp

On Thursday, July 19, after two days at Elephant Camp, the schedule that Chris Worden of African Bush Camps has proposed calls for a late morning transfer to Imbabala Safari Camp.  So, after a morning elephant ride (ho-hum) we would have breakfast and be picked up by Wild Horizons at 11:00 a.m. for the one hour drive westward on the road from Victoria Falls town to the Kasane Border Post (Botswana).

Jan and I have been to Imbabala twice before and each visit provided wonderful experiences. Some photographs of our previous trips are shown here.

The thatched roofed chalets at Imbabala - 2001

Chris Worden's itinerary describes Imbabala as follows: 

Situated where Zimbabwe, Botswana, Zambia and Namibia converge, 80km west of Victoria Falls, Imbabala Camp has its own concession bordering the Chobe National park in Botswana, in which game drives are conducted and is directly on the banks of the Zambezi River, also offering pontoon cruises on the river to view the game and extensive bird life.

(This is the only place in the world where 4 countries meet)

The lodge offers every comfort for your sojourn in the wild. There are just 8 thatched chalets accommodating a maximum of 18 Guests, so individual attention and service is guaranteed.

Each chalet has a view over the Zambezi. Each has en-suite facilities and mains electricity.

Meals are taken Al fresco or in the main dining room, and are of a very high culinary standard.

The swimming pool offers cool relaxation during the heat of the day.

Activities at Imbabala include 4x4 game viewing safaris in the Lodge's own concession, walking safaris and river cruises  on the Zambezi River on Imbabala's own pontoon boat - enabling close viewing of the wildlife that comes down to the River to drink as well as the amazing variety of birds that are attracted by the papyrus reeds that border the Zambezi.

Opposite the camp is Nampini Island, the home of the only population of Sitatunga antelope in Zimbabwe and you will try and photograph these shy animals by pontoon.

3 nights at Imbabala Camp, in a twin bedded room, with en suite facilities, on a fully inclusive basis.

_________________________

There are not too many places in Africa where such a profusion of wildlife, especially elephants, can be viewed up close from a boat.  Several times we were able to float alongside herds of elephant as they swam across the wide Zambezi.

Watching elephant cross the Zambezi from a pontoon boat. Imbabala Camp is in the background.

Elephants are, without any doubt whatsoever, our favorite animal to observe in the wild. The activities of their disciplined family units constantly amaze us. They are exceptionally intelligent creatures and the tenderness and affection that adults openly display toward their young is remarkable.

A typical family unit along the Zambezi River.

Is it obvious that we want to return to this magical place?

Preparing for school in South Africa

The two-day voyage around the Cape of Good Hope from Cape Town had been under overcast skies and, as I recall, too cool and windy to spend much time on deck aboard the SS Enterprise.  At last the city lay before us as we turned to port and entered the harbor in Algoa Bay.

It was the middle of winter when we docked in Port Elizabeth (hereinafter referred to as “PE").  It was cloudy and overcast and a little windy as our floating home for the last two weeks was eased into the harbor and tied up at berth.  We were met and driven out of the harbor area past the 175 feet (53.5M) tall red brick Campanile (or clock tower) standing as a memorial to the arrival of 4,000 British settlers in the area in 1820.  PE actually became a city in 1820, 16 years after the town of Uitenhage, 15 miles to the north.  For many years I would always have a mental image of PE as a windy and dismal place, no doubt due to the weather conditions on the day I arrived.  But the place actually was then, as it certainly is today, a picturesque city overlooking a beautiful bay. It has always been called “The Windy City” however for good reason.  The city had been named for the late wife of the Governor of the Cape Province back in 1820, in case anyone might have thought it was named for Queen Elizabeth the 1^st.

The family would spend a week at the Marine Hotel, south of the city along Marine Drive.  As soon as we had settled in to the hotel my Dad would be taken to visit the tyre (South Africa spelling for “tire”) factory where he would work for the next three years.  The day after our arrival we were driven to Uitenhage, past the tyre plant and up the hill to our new neighborhood called Mosel.  The house we were to occupy was one of about ten homes that had been built since 1948 when the Goodyear plant was built.  It wasn’t ready to be occupied so we moved into a smaller house across the street, where we stayed for a few months.  These were not luxurious homes but they were certainly well built and comfortable. 

As it was still winter we were happy to find the days mild and sunny.  Houses here did not have air conditioning, either heat or cold.  Space heaters or, in many cases, fireplaces would be used to warm the rooms during those brief months when the weather would turn cold and drop down into the 40s.  The electrical supply was 220 volts, 15 amps, so the puny little two-pin American plugs wouldn’t work and the several dozen 110V light bulbs we had brought with us were useless as well.  It was in those first weeks of our stay in South Africa that I took pliers, screw driver and other tools in hand and fitted all of our lamps and smaller appliances with the large three-pin 15 amp plugs required and discovered that I really enjoyed fixing things. 

One of the changes we had to get used to was driving on the left side of the road.  Most cars had the steering wheel on the right but some of the Goodyear management people had American cars that had been imported without that modification.  Our green Nash Rambler would stand out for years to come because of its left side steering wheel and, of course, for its size.  It also had a six cylinder engine which made it a fairly potent machine.  Most local cars were smaller and there were an unusually high number of Volkwagen Beetles in the region.  The Volkwagen (hereinafter known as “VW”) and Goodyear plants were adjacent to one another in Uitenhage.  Much of the tyre production was passed on to the VW plant through a conveyor system.

The town of Uitenhage, known as “The Garden Town” with good reason, was built on a series of hills on the east side of the Swartkops River.  The fertile river valley itself had, since the 1820s, enabled local farmers to provide the growing sea traffic around the Cape with provisions – fresh vegetables and fruit, meat and dairy products.  It had also become a major center for the South African Railways with large maintenance and repair facilities after the first rail line from PE to Kimberly was built in 1878.  Following the discovery of the world’s richest diamond mine in Kimberly in 1871, the rail system took on strategic importance in the growth of the rich mining industries inland and gave both Port Elizabeth and Uitenhage notable roles to play in the history of this southernmost tip of the African continent.

The fact that we had settled, at least for the coming three years, in a small town, in an important industrial and agricultural hub would, I understand now with the benefit of hindsight, give my brothers and me an unusually richly textured environment to grow and develop in.  I guess it would be described today as a broad-based socio-economic environment; just as Littleton High School in Colorado, where my three children went to school, is described today.  The friends we were to make at school came from all walks of life.  My classmates and neighbors would be the sons and daughters of railway machinists, farmers, auto-workers, tyre builders and of course all of the other job categories that go along with an industrial and agricultural area; lawyers, bankers, doctors, merchants, and delicatessen owners.  Of course we would be attending an all-white school, but at the time that didn’t seem different to us, coming as we had from the American Deep South. 

The old Muir College Boys High School - photographed in 2001. The school has since moved to a new location with modern facilities. The building pictured here was built in 1875.

In the first few days of our move to Uitenhage we made a visit to see the Principal of Muir College Boys High School.  His name was Harold Skillicorn (hereinafter to be referred to as “Skilly.” What else?)  He wasn’t a tall man, probably about 5’8” in his polished black shoes.  He had very bushy eyebrows, a stern look in his eye and over his suit and tie he always wore a black academic gown, as did all of the teachers.  I remember his surprise when my brother and I replied to his questions with a “yes sir” or “no sir.”  Previous American students had not found those terms of respect easy to get used to.  But none of the previous American families who had transferred here were raised in the Deep South! 

I can still remember Skilly’s office.  The school building was old, with weathered wooden flooring and wood paneling half-way up the walls of offices and classrooms.  His office was just inside the double-door entrance to the main building, on the left.  On the right, across the hall, was the school assembly hall in which several hundred uniformly dressed boys would assemble each morning before class for a brief prayer and announcements.  The whole atmosphere of this building and this institution was one of a rich tradition and history.

Then we went to buy our school uniforms.  My twin brother and I were just at the age where we were growing weary of our mother’s desire to dress us alike.  Now we would be wearing uniforms that would be just like those being worn by hundreds of other boys. 

Questions about this blog can be directed here.

Leaving civilization

Dreaming On

We've received a proposal from Chris Worden of African Bush Camps.  It describes in mouth-watering detail an eight-night safari experience in the Victoria Falls, Upper Zambezi and Hwange National Park.  If we could afford it today, we would be leaving almost immediately.  The following extract describes only the first two days.  

Jan at the falls - March 2001

Tuesday 17^th July, 2011:  After breakfast Safari Club will transfer you to Johannesburg Airport, where you will check in and connect to your British Airways/Comair flight 6285, to Victoria Falls, departing Johannesburg at 1125hrs, arriving Victoria Falls at 1310hrs. 

Here you will be met by Wild Horizons Safaris and transferred to The Elephant Camp, situated only 15 minutes from Victoria Falls Airport and 10 minutes from Victoria Falls village and the Victoria Falls themselves.

Riding an Elephant in August - the dry season

March 2001 - in the rainy season

The tented suites are all equipped with indoor and outdoor showers, huge baths, private lounges, mini bar and tea/coffee stations, overhead fans plus air conditioning and are all mosquito proofed.

The Elephant Camp overlooks a waterhole that is fed by natural streams in the rainy season that rush down to meet the Masuwe River, and the Zambezi gorges below the Victoria Falls.

Bush walks and birding for guests supply boundless photographic opportunities in addition to the variety of activities that are available in Victoria Falls.

Interaction with the resident Elephants and Elephant back safaris are a unique attraction of this camp.

Managing the Elephant Camp is Jonathan Elway, who has 21 years experience in the tourism industry. 

The views from the elephant camp towards the spray of the Victoria Falls are breathtaking!

2 nights at The Elephant Camp, in a twin bedded room, with en suite facilities, on a fully inclusive basis.

These photos from our previous visits to Victoria Falls and Elephant Camp may put this whole mouth-watering reference above into better perspective.

Leaving Civilization

Let me recap my historical origins prior to stepping on African soil in Port Elizabeth in July 1956.

Indigenous peoples inhabited the Gadsden, Alabama, area for thousands of years and the agrarian Mississippian culture lived here from 1000 to 1600 AD.  The French first settled in the Mobile region in 1702 and knew the local tribe as the Alibamon. The Spanish Hernando DeSoto expedition of 1540 described the Alibamo tribe of the area.

I had been born and raised in the city of Gadsden. In 1956 it was not considered a big city having a population, as I recall, of about 70,000.  The first white settlement in the area was reputedly a house built in about 1825.  After 1840 the first survey of land was made and the first steamboat arrived on the Coosa River from Mobile, on the Gulf of Mexico, in 1845.  The new “town” was named Gadsden in honor of Colonel James Gadsden of South Carolina who, a few years later, would gain notoriety for his part, as American Ambassador to Mexico, in the Gadsden Purchase.  The Gadsden Purchase was the final acquisition of territory from Mexico by the United States in 1854 and comprised an area about the size of Scotland across southern Arizona and southwestern New Mexico.

It should be noted that Col. Gadsden was an extremely vocal supporter of the practice and continuation of slavery.  The State of Alabama was to gain statehood in 1819 although it seceded from the union in 1861 at the start of the American Civil War.  Also noteworthy is that Alabama created a public school system only during the years of reconstruction which followed the end of the war in 1865.  It was during those post Civil War years that the Ku Klux Klan would gain enormous influence.

“After the Civil War, the state was still chiefly agricultural, with an economy tied to cotton.  Planters resisted working with free labor during Reconstruction and sought to re-establish controls over freedmen.  In the early years the Ku Klux Klan had numerous independent chapters in Alabama that attacked freedmen and other Republicans.  After it was suppressed, insurgent whites organized paramilitary groups, such as the Red Shirts and White League, which acted more openly to suppress black voting.  After regaining power by the late 1870s, in the last decade of the nineteenth century, white Democrats passed electoral laws and constitutional amendments to disfranchise most blacks and many poor whites.  Having regained power in the state legislature, Democrats passed Jim Crow laws, including racial segregation in public facilities, to restore white supremacy.” (Source:  Wikipedia)

I mention these historical facts to put my new home region and school system into perspective.  We were thought to be going back in time, to settle in a third world country, which would almost certainly be backward in technology and education.  My parents clearly did not think this way, but many of our family back home certainly did.   From the moment we set sail to cross the Atlantic, they were counting the days until we would return and reestablish ourselves in civilization once more.  That my father would take his young wife and three small children into such an uncertain and unsafe environment was disgraceful.

My brother and I would be attending an all boys High School, Muir College Boys High School, which was first established in 1822 as the “English Free School,” in the town of Uitenhage; established 18 years earlier on April 25, 1804 (41 Years before naming of the new town of Gadsden).  It was in the town of Uitenhage (pronounced U-tin-hāge) that the Goodyear Tire Company had built a manufacturing plant in 1948, and where my dad would become the Production Director for the company.  

More on these topics in my next post.   

  

Africa is a very big place! 6,812 miles from Cape Town to Cairo.

 

One of my first life's adventures

The SS African Enterprise sailed from New York in July 1956

Today I talked with Pam Buttner at Travel Beyond, the travel group we will be asking to help us plan our 2012 trip and make our reservations for us.  It was a small beginning.  I have investigated the South African Schools vacation calendar and decided that any time after July 13, 2012 would work well for our trip.  Students would be back in school and vacation destinations would be in less demand for "the locals."

My first greatest adventure – (a blog posted to www.YourHub.com on11 November, 2007)

The defining adventure of my life was almost certainly boarding a ship in New York harbor at the age of 12 years and crossing the Atlantic Ocean to live in South Africa. Without this event much of the following five decades of my life might have been fairly boring.

That 17 day crossing from New York to Cape Town in July 1956, aboard the Farrell Lines - Steamship (SS) African Enterprise, was a pretty big deal for a skinny kid from Gadsden, Alabama. We sometimes read advice columns or hear radio talk show hosts answer questions from concerned mothers. The distraught parent laments that her husband is being transferred out of state and asks what she can do to ease the devastating effect this will have on her young children.   I am amused at these situations. Parents need to know that most kids are, if nothing else, adaptable. Any distress they experience is most often created by their panicked mothers who are worrying needlessly.

When we were 11 years old my twin brother, John, and I were asked by our parents, "How would you like to go live in South Africa for a few years?" It was a rhetorical question of course. The plans had already been made by the grown-ups.

We couldn't wait to tell our 6th Grade Class at C.A. Donehoo Elementary School. I was so excited that I got confused about our destination, telling my teacher we were going to South America.  Soon afterwards, realizing my mistake, I went to her and whispered sheepishly that it was South Africa, not South America that we were moving to. The world can be a confusing place for a 6th Grader.

 

My father risked being ostracized by his extended southern family to which an excursion above the Mason-Dixon Line was something almost inconceivable. "Those damn Yankees" was a phrase I recall hearing often from my early childhood days. But my dad was aware of the opportunity he was being given, a directorship in Goodyear Tire Company at their plant at the southern tip of Africa. He had been given his choice of three assignments; England, Sweden, or South Africa.

He declined England because of the weather, and decided against Sweden because of the weather and the language, and he had spent time there as a trainer before the outbreak of World War II. South Africa would give his twin sons a chance at schooling in English and he would have a chance to do some hunting.

The contract was to be for a 3 year term and we would only be able to come home for vacation after that time. This 3 year term was to be greatly extended.

After the decision was made and became known to family and friends, one of his uncles called and chastised my dad, saying "How could you think of taking your sweet little wife and three little kids to Africa, with all those natives?" His concerns included our one year old baby brother David. 

So after graduating from 6th Grade, I recall busy weeks loading furniture and my mother shopping for clothes and things she was sure we would be deprived of for the next three years. The house was being sold.  Mostly the grown ups handled that stuff while my twin brother and I played, went to Boy Scouts and enjoyed the usual bare footed summer time boy stuff. On an appointed day in mid-June, 1956, we loaded up the Nash Rambler and headed north through Tennessee, skirting the Great Smokey Mountains, and on to Akron, Ohio.

I can't recall how we all fitted in the car. It helped that we didn't have to have a car-seat for baby David. But among the pile of bodies was my 4ft 10inch, 63 year old maternal grandmother, Clara McGraw. 

Talk about an adventurous spirit? Clara McGraw had never owned a car or flown in a plane, preferring to go by train. She was traveling with us to New York and planned to fly back to her home in Birmingham when we boarded the ship for Africa. We spent a week in Akron, where Goodyear Headquarters was located, while Clara visited her son, my uncle Joe and his family, in nearby Youngstown, Ohio. 

Finally the Clampetts were on their way across Pennsylvania to the big city of New York. To a little boy, New York skyscrapers were pretty impressive. We spent about five days at the Taft Hotel. I recall the dark, thickly carpeted hallways and creaky elevators.

The view from our hotel room window was incredible, but I was thoroughly impressed by the door to our room. It opened from inside and out! We could put laundry or shoes to be shined in the door from the inside and during the night housekeeping staff would open it from the outside and return it before we woke up the next morning.  I wanted so badly to have a pair of shoes that needed polishing just so I could use that remarkable feature.

 

We went with my dad to the harbor where he left our car to be loaded aboard the African Enterprise. The ship looked very impressive from dockside and my brother and I watched the huge cranes swinging cargo aboard. We made several excursions on the underground rail, one day even going to Dodgers Stadium to see the Brooklyn Dodgers play the New York Yankees. I guess this was a right of passage for little boys but I don't remember who won or the names of any of the players.

I was getting more and more anxious to get aboard and set sail, but mostly to play in the ship's swimming pool. I figured I would be able to swim all day, every day for the next two weeks.

Detailed memories of those days are elusive. I do recall my mother's shock at store and restaurant prices in New York. Why, a bottle of Coca-cola in the Drug Store was over a dollar, and we couldn't afford a milkshake! The price of a hamburger was outrageous.

Mother couldn't understand how people in New York could afford to eat. Of course Yankees were rude and hard to understand. This was culture shock for my mother but for me it was the first exposure to different people and places. If my mother had concerns about New Yorkers, how would she adjust to the varied peoples, cultures and languages of South Africa? She never really did, but that's another story. 

Grandmother McGraw was due to fly home from Idlewild Airport (later to become John F. Kennedy Memorial) to Birmingham, Alabama. When my dad suggested she go by taxi from the hotel she said no, she would prefer to use the helicopter service!

For someone who had never flown, she decided to opt for a whole new experience. For the remaining 24 years of her life she talked about that helicopter ride. Some years later, at the age of 72 she visited South Africa and while touring an Ostrich farm she rode an ostrich, when few others in the crowd would volunteer. 

The African Enterprise was one of "Two Distinguished Sister Ships" operated by Farrell Lines, offering regular first-class passenger service between New York and South Africa "over the incomparable Fair Weather Route." The Enterprise certainly was no Titanic in size but it was, by 1956 standards, a reasonably large vessel.

Primarily built to haul cargo, it offered seven luxury suites on "A" Deck and 22 suites on "B" Deck: comfortable cabins for about 50 passengers. It was 492 feet long and 65 feet wide. I can't help but compare it with a Holland America Cruise ship we took last year that accommodated 1,848 passengers, 800 crew members, had eleven passenger decks, and was 951 feet long.

We boarded ship with lots of luggage, much of which was disposable diapers (the brand name Playtex rings a bell) for my 15 month old baby brother. My parents optimistically assumed our crates of furniture and our car were safely stowed in one of the ships holes.

These would be unloaded when we arrived in Port Elizabeth, South Africa 19 days later. Containers were not commonly used then and it was interesting to watch the stevedores load odd-sized crates and canvas draped pallets through small holes into the huge below-deck freight areas.

We waved goodbye to the distant Statue of Liberty as tugboats nudged us away into the river and on toward the open Atlantic. It was a hot, humid, late June day and I was disappointed that the swimming pool had not yet been filled. My brother and I explored the ship and played our first game of shuffleboard. I suppose it would be true to say that our adventure had finally begun - in earnest.  

A brochure extolled the ocean vacation experience we were about to have. "In less than two days from New York" it proclaimed, "you will learn first-hand how the "Fair Weather Route" came by its name. Day after day you are greeted with tropical blue skies, a calm sea, warm sunshine.

Day after day for relaxing in a deck chair . . taking an occasional turn at shuffleboard or deck tennis . . enjoying a dip in the outdoor pool," etc., etc. The entertainment highlight of the trip was to be, "your initiation into the "Trusty Order of Shellbacks" as you cross the Equator. It's an experience as unique and unforgettable as your entire vacation will prove to be." On our eight day at sea we would cross the Equator and go through an initiation ceremony.

The sailing wasn't rough, but it wasn't calm either. The swimming pool was pumped full of sea water but we found the slightest ocean swell started the water in the pool sloshing back and forth, breaking against the steep tiled sides and making it difficult for anyone to swim, much more so for a 12 year old with limited swimming skills.

Ships in those days didn't have automatic stabilizers. So much for spending my hoped for days playing in the pool. On one or two days in that first week we experience fairly strong winds and I enjoyed standing against the rail on the foredeck watching the bow of the ship dip into the ocean swells and create great sheets of salt spray across the deck. At times we would see dozens of flying fish shoot out of the water and disappear again. Timed passed too fast.

We crossed the equator on about the 7th July, 1956. A large canopy was stretched across one of the top decks and a throne set up to accommodate King Neptune. In deference to our youth my twin and I were initiated together. Side-by-side we were led, blindfolded, to the foot of the throne and told to get down on our knees. I was terrified.

At one point we had to put a finger into "Nelson's eye" and I felt something squishy and juicy. It turned out to be an overripe tomato. Some sort of gooey food, including soft spaghetti noodles was poured over our heads. After it was over I was relieved that we hadn't been water boarded or anything like that. My vivid boyhood imagination often ran away with me. Mostly it was a funny experience because my dad was dressed as a ridiculous looking pirate and was on the King Neptune team initiating the passengers who were crossing the equator for the first time. We never figured out why he escaped the ritual himself.

Five or six days later we approached the remote island of St. Helena. This volcanic island is one of the most isolated places in the world: the nearest landmass being the west coast of Africa 1,200 miles away. In the 51 years since visiting this tiny British territory I don't recall ever having met anyone else who has been there and I suspect 99.9% of Americans have never heard of it. It is best known as the place to which the self-proclaimed Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte was exiled after his defeat at the Battle of Waterloo in 1815.

 

As there is no harbor at St. Helena our ship anchored some distance from the only town, Jamestown, and those passengers who chose to tour the island were taken ashore in lighters. This was an incredible fun experience for me and I have very vivid memories of the hours spent in this special, historic place. My dad hired a taxi and guide and we drove along the narrow roads into the interior of the island, visiting Longwood House where Napoleon lived and subsequently died (in 1821). We visited his gravesite although he wasn't actually there. Forty years after his death his body was disinterred and transported back to France. We saw a large tortoise in the grounds of Longwood House which, we were told, had been living 135 years earlier when Napoleon had resided there.

Overlooking Jamestown, in the valley 500 feet below us, we stood at the top of Jacobs Ladder, a shortcut up (or down) the mountainside comprised of 699 steps and 2 inch diameter piping handrails on each side of its concrete steps. Several young boys, probably 14 or 15 years old, offered to show us a fast way down for a little financial incentive.

My dad paid each one a quarter or two. They straddled the steps with their heels on one side and their backs over the other and began to slide down the mountain, picking up speed as they descended. The steps were 900 feet from the top to the main street of Jamestown below. I guess those boys made it to the bottom in less than two minutes. My brother and I took the 699 steps down. I remember my legs being sore for several days afterward. 

For another five days we sailed eastward toward the African continent. Late in the afternoon on day five we felt the engines slow as the sky became overcast. Just before dark I saw the outline of the sunlit Table Mountain through the clouds and later the lights of the city were twinkling ahead of us as we entered Table Bay. It didn't occur to my uneducated boyhood brain at the time but this historic natural harbor had sheltered ships for almost 500 years. 

The following day the family went ashore and took a taxi around the City of Cape Town or Kaapstad as it had been called by the Dutch. It was cloudy and raining so our tour was brief and we didn't attempt to see the main tourist attractions. Over the next 25 years I would return to this most beautiful Cape Peninsula many times. Thirteen years later my bride and I would fly into Cape Town and spend a short honeymoon there before beginning a new job in the area.

My 1956 adventure neared its conclusion as the African Enterprise left Table Bay and rounded the "Cape of Good Hope" heading east into the Indian Ocean. Two days later we ended our voyage in Algoa Bay (now Nelson Mandela Bay) and the city of Port Elizabeth.

Within two weeks we would move to a comfortable house in Uitenhage, 20 miles inland. Adventure number 2 would begin when my twin brother and I put on our school uniforms for the first time and walked a mile to the all boys High School that would educate us for the next 5-1/2 years.

We were two skinny American kids with strong southern accents. The other 500 boys in the school had foreign accents.