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Sunday, 13 July 2008 |
It had been a really frustrating day of waiting to get permission for an escorted passage through the diamond mine area. There were fears that if we could not get through, we would be caught up in flash floods from the unrelenting rain of the past week. Dry river beds, after decades of dormancy suddenly turn into swirling vortexes of mud and debris, engulfing what ever lie in their path. With this lurking in the back of our minds, we decided to wait.
Permission now granted, we headed to the mine gate where we were met by our staff escort. Three Toyota vans, filled with security, and the rest. A complexed brief ensured and an explanation of the road. It was a 2 lane compacted clay road, which is sprayed with sea water and constantly compacted. When it is dry it’s like rock, but when it’s wet, its 4 inches of slush. When your foot finally breaks through the layer of mush, you then hit the salt which is like ice at the bottom and you skid off in any direction-
Great! and off we went to attempt our “Modder Plodder” 15 km of this lay ahead.
 Our escort kept me giggling, each vehicle had this long steel rod about 3 meters high attached to it back bumper with an orange funnel on the top, this kept reminding me of a family of Warthog running through the veld . (This was so that the massive dump trucks could see the vans, or they would be run over by them) Off the vans sped wagging their buts as the slid from side to side up the road.
Slowly we pushed on using our trekking poles to help keep balance as our feet cut through the slush and hit the base layer, then it was a guess in which direction you would end going before managing to regain your balance , then heading off after your other foot.
To top it all 8km down the highway from hell a van pulls up next to us and asks
Where are you guys heading?
I looked at him and I was now a bit confused with the question but replied,
We have come from Oranjemund and are on our way to Cape town and then running to Mozambique.
He looked back at me even more surprised.
Have you got permission ? he asked
No ! I replied. Why ? This really blew his mind
I look at the string of vehicles ahead of me and turned back to see the entourage following
You are in a restricted area!- he blurted and then the penny finnaly dropped, he just looked forward and accelerated , rooster tailing away up the muddy drag in embarrassment.
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Sunday, 13 July 2008 |
It had been a long hard slog along the coast, deep sand interleafed with really jaggered rock out crops. Occasionally we would be rewarded with a few hundred meters of hard flat beach. Our running had now frizzled out into a plod, our legs burning from the soft sand. The northwester was still trying to wriggle down our necks and sap every last bit of warmth and energy we had left. The rain would follow in intermitted squalls, relentlessly pounding us with these icy needles , most of them trying to find refuge in my right ear.
As we headed over the crest of a dune ahead lay the overnight camp, Noup, an old Diamond diver camp from the nineties The most warming sight for miles around in the harsh windswept coast. A warm shower was the only thing on my mind as I crouched forward and pushed on across the bay, as the second thought began to surface – food
 Now warm and content, a surprise awaited , the camp owners, Dudley and Aletta had prepared a most welcome dinner, no grovelling in vehicles for something to suppress the hunger. Aletta had slaved over a little gas stove and oven prepareing dinner. Behind where we were staying was a large room build out of coastal rock sparsely furnished with a large table in the middle. The whole room was washed in candle light. At the other end lay the banquet of home cooked passion
Whole wheat bread “Plaas botter” Tuna pie, spicy tomato pasta, seafood and cream casserole, braised Chorizo sausage and to end off, plump local dried dates. We ate and listened to stories that Dudley shared of his mining experiences along the coast. Plate after plate we devoured until finally the only thing that stopped me was that I was too tired to carry on eating. A quick good night and I headed to my bungalow like a Gannet doing a spectacular ocean dive.
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Shine on me you crazy diamonds |
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Tuesday, 08 July 2008 |
 Our day had ended on the Farm Brazil. Here we met a really special
family, Rocky, his wife Karen and their little daughter Jesse (who was
asleep at the time). We were invited into there home situated and one
of the most picturest points of the coast. Rocky has been diving and
surfing the coast for some 10 years in the Klein see area.
He had started out his career at the diving camp called Noup some 30 km
down the coast from Brazil. Karen eventually joined up with him and
they lived in a caravan attached to a hut for about 5 years at Noup,
then getting his new concession they moved to the farm Brazil. Here he
build this beautiful timber palace
A home of character, colour, peace and harmony, a little black timber
diamond on this harsh desolate west coast. Surrounding the home lies a
scattered collection of both their art works which have been created as
day upon day they sit staring out at the sea waiting for the swell to
subside that Rocky can head out to sea and get to work scouring the
ocean floor for the prized jewel. Just above high water mark is a stone
carving of a figurine done by Rocky, it looks like an in- mate from
Easter island that is now staring over the waters as a good omen
guarding their bay.
 As soon as the weather clears, Rocky then launches his boat and is out
to seek his fortune as he walks the ocean beds with his giant Hoover
hoping to suck up just that one special crumb that has been dropped by
father time. Hour after hour as he sucks the gravel from the sea bed,
hoping that one beam of light shining through the water from above will
strike the exact spot and a prism of light will explode on the ocean
bed erupting into a magnitude of sparkling diamonds.
How we all tend to chase just that one break in life, that break that
will set us up for good. The more we listen to the tales of the big
strikes, the more reality hits home. Nothing comes easy the harder you
work the luckier you get.
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Tuesday, 08 July 2008 |
 I heard excited chatter and shrieks coming from over the dune as we got
ready to start our morning run. Looking up I saw a group of people
walking towards us, awash with colour and leading the charge was a tiny
figure laughing away carrying a bunch of flowers bigger than herself.
It was the family from Brazil, Rocky’s wife, little Jesse and friends
coming to greet and send us on our way. Dragging behind smiling Jesse
was a little painted poster saying,” Go Smile Merchants” as I looked at
her angelic little face, heard the laughter, the absolute joy and
excitement that she portrayed. My mind began to flash pictures of my
own children.
Jess my eldest daughter in Austria at the moment, slowly carving her
own life’s journey, like mine there is always the uncertainty of what
lies ahead like a heaving ocean on the one side and on the other side
the solid land of the things we know. Thinking of her as she journeys
on, trying to find the fine balance between the two and settle into her
own rhythm of life.
Where am I to guide her?
Xander my son studying at Varsity negotiating through all the barriers
that are thrown at one in modern day city life and the challenges that
the youth face today
Where am I to guide him?
Tamlin my daughter somewhere in the Transkei doing screening of
children for the next mission of Operation Smile in the Eastern Cape
opening up frontiers to bring a better life to the youth in South
Africa.
Where am I to guide her?
Little Jade, only 3 ½ , at home wondering where I am , not
understanding what I am doing away from home, the only explanation I
could give her when I left was that I was going away to help little
children with sore lips.
Jade on awaking the other morning, holding her little finger to her lip, she tearfully looked at my wife and asked.
“Where is my daddy, I have also got a sore lip”
Where am I just to hold and comfort her?
How can one ever make up this time?
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