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Ons en die Maan
M.C. Botha
Ons en die maan is die verhaal
van ’n pa en seun wat die Okavangodelta besoek
om in die vrye natuur van die stres-belaaide
lewe te ontsnap.
Vanaf die eerste bladsy was ek
meegevoer deur die opgewondenheid van Blackie om
saam met sy pa die avontuur in die wildernis te
beleef. M.C. Botha se unieke skryfstyl, sy raak
beskrywing van die natuur en die gedrag van die
wilde diere het my meegesleur en laat voel ek
ervaar alles self.
Hulle besoek drie verskillende
reservate, ontmoet interessante mense, elkeen
met sy of haar eie opvatting en siening van die
wêreld. Party toeriste raak opgewonde oor die
langstert laksman en gryskopvisvanger en
blouwangbyvreter, terwyl ander weer kla oor die
groot vyf wat nie te voorskyn wil kom nie. Die
gidse kan hulle vergas met interessante
staaltjies oor al hul wedervaringe in die
wildernis. Party seker wolhaarstories, maar om
’n kampvuurtjie word daar mos maar baie stories
opgedis.
Hulle vlieg met ligte
vliegtuigies van een kamp na die ander, en selfs
die loodse is karakters met stories.
Een beskrywing van ’n gids wat my
getref het, was: “Hy is ’n mens wat hunker na
iets onbereikbaars” – ’n raak beskrywing van
menige soekende siele. Die pa en seun gaan op
visvangekspedisies met boorlinge van die
omgewing, en beland eenkeer in krokodilwaters.
’n Gewese sjef wat voorheen saam
met die pa gewerk het, is die eienaar van die
tweede kamp waar hulle bly. Hy het ’n beeldskone
vrou wat ’n spesiale rapport met wilde diere
het en met ’n uil op haar skouer rondloop. Die
groep hoor van stropers wat ’n witrenoster vir
sy horing geskiet het. Die hele gemeenskap is
ontsteld oor die sinlose dood van so ’n
manjifieke dier.
Tussendeur het pa en seun ook tyd
om rustig te gesels en lewenservarings en
wyshede te deel.
Hulle laaste besoekpunt voor
hulle die rustigheid vaarwel toeroep, is die
Victoria Waterval.
Welgedaan M.C. Botha. Jou liefde
en begrip vir die natuur maak dit ’n boek wat op
elke natuurliefhebber se boekrak hoort.
(Susan Stander)
Junie 2008
DE BOS
DAM
by S J du Toit
When the pioneer families settled on these
shores, they mainly used two springs for their
water requirements. At Rietfontein, where they
pitched their camps, was a strong–flowing
fountain and another on the spot where Hermanus
Pieters first camped in the late 1820s. For many
years, spring water, therefore, was
all–important in the life of the early village.
Very little recorded history of water supply in
earlier years could be uncovered, except for a
few anecdotes by older residents. The first
large village reservoir was built at the town
entrance. From the farm of Piet Geldenhuys,
water was piped to town.
Brown Water
In the Mossel River, three dams were built in
the first half of the 1900s: the High Level Arch
Dam, the PJ Luyt Arch Dam, and the Rockfill Dam.
High–lying erven in Voëlklip were served from
here. A break–pressure tank by a water main,
allowed for water to be discharged into the
reservoir at the town entrance.
Water was also obtained from two weirs in the
Vogelgat stream and piped into a reservoir
situated in Voëlklip. The water foreman referred
to this reservoir as the ‘Fairy Land Reservoir’.
Due to vegetation (Palmiet et cetera), surface
water in Hermanus was brown, typical of waters
in coastal areas. As water demand increased, a
number of boreholes were drilled on the Hermanus
Golf Course. This water had a high iron content
and was first treated in a plant situated on the
golf course and then pumped directly into the
town’s water distribution system.
Washday blues
To sidestep the brown water, washing in the old
days was done at three main springs. One was
near Swallow Park, the second high up in
Northcliff, and the third was below the cool
drink factory in Mitchell Street. Many women
used these “wasbakkies” (washbasins), especially
those who washed for the Bayview and Marine
Hotels and the Sanatorium.
There’s the story of an old German named Otto,
who lived in Main Road. He had a windmill at his
house and the most beautiful running water and a
vegetable garden. For years, no one could
understand how he could have this continuous
stream of water, even when there was no wind.
Many years later, when a pipe–burst occurred, it
was discovered that Otto had dug his borehole
and tapped right into the main water pipe of the
town!
Hermanus Snippets
MISS GORDON OF KARWYDERSKRAAL
Karwyderskraal near Hermanus will somehow always
be associated with Miss Gordon who farmed there
for almost four decades. Originally she was the
owner of Braemar, where the old leper colony was
situated from 1817 to 1845. Kruger and Shaberg
wrote in The Pear Tree Bears Fruit, “Miss
Gordon, who used to do all the farm work
herself, such as ploughing or making and laying
clay bricks, attracted a great deal of unwelcome
attention from curious passers-by. Therefore she
moved to the remote Karwyderskraal”.
Ella Gordon Dove Colston, known to local people
as Miss Gordon, was born in Scotland in 1873.
She came to South Africa as a young woman and
took up farming at Braemar. She bought the
Karwyderskraal property in 1910. She was skilled
with sword, rifle and pistol, and was a boxer of
great skill, even on one occasion thrashing two
young farmers who made insulting remarks about
her. At one stage a retired music teacher Miss
Clara Markgraff, lived on the farm with her, but
later went to Genadendal where she died and is
buried.
Ella Gordon cared well for her workers. She
built a school and church building where the
Genadendal Moravians conducted services. She
regularly held concerts with the farm children.
She was often seen with horse and cart in
Hermanus or at Botriver station fetching goods
which she used to load herself, no matter how
heavy. In the old days she often drove her span
of mules carting her grain wagon to Cape Town.
She could lift 200 lb bags (90 kg) of wheat
without difficulty. With close-cropped grey hair
and a long pipe Miss Gordon remained a mystery
to her farmer neighbours.
Miss Gordon had been married in Scotland but her
husband never joined her in South Africa. She
had few friends and gave all her love to her
dogs and her horses. She buried them in a
special graveyard where visitors can find
thirteen tombstones, each giving their life
history and dedication to her beloved horse
children. She had few indulgences in her spartan
life, but bought sweets and raisins for her
horses and dogs.
Ella Gordon died in 1958, aged 85 and is buried
on the farm. She bequeathed the farm and money
to the Moravian Church.
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