It’s a Namibian Thing XIV

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In the picture below, I am on the left. Notice the use of a single oar. They were borrowed from the yellow rowing boat pictured at the bottom of the photo down below. I am with my cousin. I am in in my very own canoe. My dad bought it for me. Just wished he’d thought to get the proper dual canoeing paddle!! It made no difference to me. I enjoyed so many outings in the craft with a single oar, I don’t think a proper canoe paddle would have made much difference to my enjoyment.

Thanks to Sandy Buchanan, ex-O’Munder, below are a couple of colour photos of the Cormorant Yacht Club at Oranjemund taken sometime late 60’s. The structure in these photographs was not the original clubhouse which was a wooden structure, painted black (or covered in pitch) and was replaced by the brick n mortar building in the photos.

Just looking at these photos, takes me back to what seems like only yesterday. As a kid, the best place to be if not racing in a dinghy or in a canoe on the pan, was on the bridge of the clubhouse. This was where you could see all the tactical action occuring at the start, during and finish of a race. The bridge remained a hub of activity and of course, it offered the best view of what was happening on the water.

I used to sneak up there on the pretext of taking someone a cuppa tea. The cup was invariably courtesy of someone else downstairs in the lounge who happened to turn away and allow me to divest them of their steaming brew! It was what I had to do to get upstairs and nothing would deter me.

The two pictures above and below reflect a sequence in time. It is early on a Sunday and the members are starting to arrive and get their boats ready for the days racing. Looking out beyond the fence at the back where the boats were parked when not in the water, you can see the dunes that hide the beach on the Atlantic Ocean.

Click HERE to see a satellite photo on Google Earth of the yachtclub and South West Atlantic Ocean beach proximity to each other. Zoom in!
This South West coastline of Africa was infamous further north for the wrecks of ships and the desert elephants of the aptly named Skeleton Coast. But all I cared about the sea here, was that it was freezing cold. The freezing Benguela current keeps the sea at ice cold tempratures yearlong. Swimming was for the foolhardy or extremely brave. The backwash was treacherous. I once witnessed at close hand incredible bravery from Bevan who ran and plunged into what were truly nigh impossible conditions to save one of the Johnson sisters from drowning.

The sea just picked her up at knee height from where she was paddling (what we called a paddle lasted 5 seconds or less as our feet began to ache from cold) and swept her out and kept her beyond the first line of breakers. If Bevan had not been there at that moment, she would have perished. Her mum was there running parallel with her as the water pushed her along, witnessing her daughter’s drowning. How absolutely horrifc must it be for any mother to witness the death of her child. Horrid.

Thanks to Bevan, there was a happy ending to the day. He rushed in, managed to get out to her, grabbed her and got back to shore. In the photo above you can see the yacht club top corner right. Notice how the water in the pan has receded in comparison to the older colour photos above.

The sea along the South West coast break on shore as ‘dumpers’. They do not form offshore and rise then gracefully crest and form waves that you can surf. These waves just develop and break in a million tonnes of loud, dirty hydrolic action and dump you into the sea bed. It is painful. It is freezing cold. I know because I experienced it once. And then there is the backwash. It is seriously powerful. Very strong. Life threatening and very dangerous to anyone weak on foot or oblivious to mother nature’s wrath and the sheer brutal deathly strength that is the cold Benquella current and the Atlantic dumpers.

And then there was Bob Molloy who decided that this stretch of coastline could be tamed by him just once. He wanted to surf the dumpers and knew that a special board would have to be designed to attempt the feat. More about this fantastic story later. He did it. It’s a Namibian thing.

I have been away too long. I will be back. I need to get earthed again.

Click hear to read about the Benguela current on Wikipedia

It’s a Namibian Thing XIV