Wide eyed rubbernecks in South Africa 1980
Posted: Fri Jan 31, 2014 3:22 pm
I've been wanting to get these fragments of memory out of my head and into writing for years, because the fragments are getting smaller and fuzzier and I've never actually recounted the story in full, not even verbally.
I'm not working at the moment, so it's time to use the spare time.
I went to South Africa in 1980 with some mates, it was the first overseas trip for all of us, and more of an adventure than anything I've experienced since. I could just write this on the computer, print it off and put it in a drawer but what the hell, I've found this surf forum now so here goes, if an old guy waffling bores you turn away now……but there are some good pics for those with short attention spans…..
My mate Jonno and I (both Adelaide boys) decided in 1979 that we just had to go to South Africa to surf. This decision was brought about largely by first hand accounts, told over cups of tea at campfires by friends who had actually been there. The main culprit was Paul Gravelle, a Sth. African who had set up shop at Cactus building boards, his glasser Baz, and a handful of others who's stories had us frothing.
A couple of Victorian Cactus regulars Harry and Mick, who had become good mates of ours had also caught the bug and so we hatched the plan that we would all go together in the winter of 1980 for the full 3 months that a visa would allow.
We all went our separate ways to earn the money for airfares and spending money, kept in contact, and worked hard at gathering info for the trip. I went to WA and worked in my trade as a Diesel Mechanic in Mt. Newman for 6 months, Jonno did his thing on the Tuna boats, and the 2 Victorians probably robbed a bank.
Gathering info was a big deal and we worked hard at it, grilling everybody for anything useful, writing it all down and comparing notes. There was no internet of course, not even a useful book on surfing in Sth. Africa so all info was hard won and precious…places to stay, places to surf, how to get around, things to watch out for etc.
When the time came near we all met up at Cactus again to tune up our surfing for 3 weeks, then straight to Perth for the plane. I had my trusty 6'6" Gravelle, but I got him to make me a 7 footer to take as well because I thought I would need it for J-bay.
In the pics…this was my life for 6 months, fixing these things. The HT Holden is mine, intact on the way up to Newman from Perth, the other one is the same car after I pulled the pin from Newman and fell asleep at the wheel and rolled it halfway back to Perth. Lucky I wasn't really hurt, except for climbing out the drivers window without realising I was up a tree, because not a sole came along for 2 hours. In the meantime I gathered a few of my belongings from down the road, which had all been strewn out the broken windows on both sides of the road as the car must have rolled quite a few times. I found my camera and took a couple of pics, then a farmer came along in a tractor, asked if I was O.K. and gave me a cold beer from his on-tractor esky. Using his tractor we got the car down off the tree but the poor old HT was Chernobyled. The farmer gave me a lift into the next town where I struck a deal with the towns wrecker, I told him where the car was and he paid me cash in good faith without even seeing the wreck. I jumped on a bus with whatever I had salvaged and headed for Adelaide.
To be continued….
I'm not working at the moment, so it's time to use the spare time.
I went to South Africa in 1980 with some mates, it was the first overseas trip for all of us, and more of an adventure than anything I've experienced since. I could just write this on the computer, print it off and put it in a drawer but what the hell, I've found this surf forum now so here goes, if an old guy waffling bores you turn away now……but there are some good pics for those with short attention spans…..
My mate Jonno and I (both Adelaide boys) decided in 1979 that we just had to go to South Africa to surf. This decision was brought about largely by first hand accounts, told over cups of tea at campfires by friends who had actually been there. The main culprit was Paul Gravelle, a Sth. African who had set up shop at Cactus building boards, his glasser Baz, and a handful of others who's stories had us frothing.
A couple of Victorian Cactus regulars Harry and Mick, who had become good mates of ours had also caught the bug and so we hatched the plan that we would all go together in the winter of 1980 for the full 3 months that a visa would allow.
We all went our separate ways to earn the money for airfares and spending money, kept in contact, and worked hard at gathering info for the trip. I went to WA and worked in my trade as a Diesel Mechanic in Mt. Newman for 6 months, Jonno did his thing on the Tuna boats, and the 2 Victorians probably robbed a bank.
Gathering info was a big deal and we worked hard at it, grilling everybody for anything useful, writing it all down and comparing notes. There was no internet of course, not even a useful book on surfing in Sth. Africa so all info was hard won and precious…places to stay, places to surf, how to get around, things to watch out for etc.
When the time came near we all met up at Cactus again to tune up our surfing for 3 weeks, then straight to Perth for the plane. I had my trusty 6'6" Gravelle, but I got him to make me a 7 footer to take as well because I thought I would need it for J-bay.
In the pics…this was my life for 6 months, fixing these things. The HT Holden is mine, intact on the way up to Newman from Perth, the other one is the same car after I pulled the pin from Newman and fell asleep at the wheel and rolled it halfway back to Perth. Lucky I wasn't really hurt, except for climbing out the drivers window without realising I was up a tree, because not a sole came along for 2 hours. In the meantime I gathered a few of my belongings from down the road, which had all been strewn out the broken windows on both sides of the road as the car must have rolled quite a few times. I found my camera and took a couple of pics, then a farmer came along in a tractor, asked if I was O.K. and gave me a cold beer from his on-tractor esky. Using his tractor we got the car down off the tree but the poor old HT was Chernobyled. The farmer gave me a lift into the next town where I struck a deal with the towns wrecker, I told him where the car was and he paid me cash in good faith without even seeing the wreck. I jumped on a bus with whatever I had salvaged and headed for Adelaide.
To be continued….