| Croc' spotting in the upper reaches. |
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| High summer on July 4th, saw the R. Southerns' annual quest up the Limpopo……..sorry, Hamble, for an unlikely glimpse of the occasional wilderbeast or crocodile in the upper reaches. |
| Twenty-eight intrepid souls set off in a variety of open craft headed by the Club launch suitably re-named the "African Scream" and piloted by veteran white (haired) hunter 'Humphrey Stobart' and guided by our esteemed leader, 'Audrey Heartburn' aka Angus and Annette. |
| Proceeding beyond the better-known areas near the main road bridge we journeyed through the graveyard (or was it the birthplace?) of large mast less craft known by their tribal salutation of 'Princess'. |
| Soon we were in a beautiful sylvan setting, spotting white Egrets on the banks, but fortunately for us, none of the Hippo's, that they sometimes accompany. |
| Shortly after, we came to a fork in the river. We initially turned left having spotted in a clearing on the water's edge, a far-flung outpost of the YMCA where the inhabitants were beaching their canoes, presumably in shelter from the mid-day sun. Having exchanged waves and re-assured ourselves that all was well with them, we turned and resumed our course up the rapidly narrowing river. |
| Progress was now quite slow as we approached the shallows in amongst the reeds, 'Humphrey' skillfully dodging the crocodiles (or where they logs?) in the water. After several twists and turns, we suddenly stumbled upon civilization in the form of a Horse and Jockey!……..Well that's what it said on the wall anyway. |
The first to arrive |
| Spirits, already high, rose even higher as we joined our comrades to tie up alongside, in the hope of some reviving refreshment. We were not disappointed, as mine host catered willingly to our culinary needs, many of our explorers returning repeatedly to the watering hole for more. |
| Suitably refreshed, we decided to retrace our steps before the waters receded and made our return impossible. We bade farewell to our other comrades who had made a slightly less intrepid trip overland in a fast open carriage and cast off again. |
| Retracing our steps, we turned downstream after a short delay which saw one of our fellow craft containing several happy hunters wander too close to the shore again and become temporarily entangled in the overhanging branches near the reeds. However, dignity restored, and with no harm done, they managed to extricate themselves and join us once more. |
| The return trip was not entirely without incident. Your scribe must confess that as a result of our progress now being into wind my hat had become considerably more aerodynamic and in a sudden gust, my Pith helmet (yes really!) flew off and landed in the fast flowing waters. As it happened, thanks to the deft skill of our helmsman, it was happily retrieved before it found its' way to uncharted rapids. |
| Once further downstream in the more populous area again, the consensus was to briefly venture ashore once more, this time for afternoon tea at the residence of a Sailor known for his 'jolliness'. Back again in the dinghies, It was not long before we finally reached our Southern base camp and dispersed, happy and elated, to write up our journals. |
| A splendid day out and, one can honestly say that a couple of Crocs' were spotted - albeit on the feet of one of the crew! |
| Bryan Hughes |
The after-guard
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