1973 - A New Beginning

The most important thing on my mind after Neil and I decided that we could not live together, was that I had to find a job! The daily journey to Marandellas abattoir, where I had been working, was long and impractical, with no chance of a lift from Dad, who was still working in Salisbury, which was in the opposite direction! If I got a job in Salisbury, we could share the trip and avoid the expense of two cars in constant use. I spoke to Dr Abrey, a vet for whom we had worked in Raffingora and he offered me a job as receptionist at his  practice in Salisbury. His partnership with two other vets, Dr Wright and Dr Sugden, was extremely busy and I found that I was spending, (much to my delight), a lot of time helping in the theatre with operations. My laboratory knowledge from the days with Dr Condy came in very useful and soon I was doing a lot of the laboratory work as well!

The veterinary surgery.  This photo must have been taken in winter (the dry season in Rhodesia) as in summer, the grass would have been green!

After six months I was asked if I would like to move in and live at the surgery, and I would then also be on call for any night visits as well. I jumped at the idea, so  two rooms, which had originally been a rest room and kitchen for the staff, were converted into a bedsitter for me, complete with shower and toilet. Outside, I was told I could put up some metal fencing to form an enclosure for my cat and Rocky, my great dane. Mum and Dad helped me with all the work, and we planted grass and made a small garden.  I had a large kennel that I could put the cats into if necessary, and soon after, with a litter of kittens on the way, the kennel solved a number of issues.   It was very comfy living for me and I soon settled into a routine with work literally on the door step!

The fence we put up, with a fast growing creeper that gave me some privacy.

Whimsy, my lynx point on the left, and Sooty my chocolate point in the centre, with their kittens. 

Rocky, my great dane, taking care not to step on the tiny kittens!

Inside my little flat, bed under the window, sitting area and dining at the end from which the photo is taken. Further behind that was a small kitchen.

Apologies for the photo quality, but it was taken with a Brownie box camera, all I owned!

I thoroughly enjoyed my job, living on the premises and I found many of the night calls  very interesting. Generally, the vet on duty would take these calls and if he thought it necessary for the animal to be admitted, he would phone me and I would assess the animal when it arrived at the surgery. I reported back by phone to the vet, who would prescribe the treatment I was to give where the ailment was not severe. However, for serious cases where immediate professional treatment could not be delayed until the following day, the vet would come in, and I would help with the work. Other than car accidents or giving birth, most cases were able to last through to the following day, thus saving many trips for the vets into the surgery at night.

I would have dearly loved to have taken up animal nursing in a serious way, but Dr Wright looked into the procedure for me, and discovered that at the time, the only place I could train was in England and that was out of the question! Nowadays, there are many universities where one can gain the qualification, and one would certainly have to be qualified today to do the job I was then doing, not only because of liability and insurance issues.

Matius, one of the surgery workers earning some extra money weeding my little garden!  To the far right of the path there were orchids under cover, and on the far left, beyond the bird bath, was  a small fish pond.

My Mum on the left with my father and my godmother, who was visiting from the UK.  They were watching the fish in the pond.  Beyond them are the large windows from the two operating rooms.  How lucky it was, and thanks to me, they had a much improved view!

My godmother who was so delighted to get to meet Ian Smith, the Rhodesian prime minister at the time. A very proud moment for her!

During this period, I still went to the race track a couple of mornings a week to keep up my riding, and of course I always had time off on Saturday afternoon, when our weekly horse racing was held. On most Sundays, I spent the day out at my parents' smallholding at Ruwa, but by arrangement with the vet practice, I stayed home at nights, so that I was in a position to take any emergency calls.

Early in 1976, Rocky, who was by then 13 years old, an excellent age for  that breed, came down with leukaemia. Dr Wright did all he could for him and I am sure his life was extended by several months, but finally his age and the leukaemia took its hold, so before he suffered too badly he was put to sleep. It was a huge loss for me as he had been my constant companion over the last 12 and a half years.

My Life Before Charente to be continued :-) 

 

The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if you should be interested:-

 

See

 http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1

Settling down to married life and farming at Chimbada Farm in Raffingora. 1970.

Farming at Raffingora was something entirely new to me; our main crop was cotton, which involved quite long and hard work during the picking season. It had to be continually watched and treated for unwanted insects and disease;  the spray plane came in regularly! When we were picking, all the staff and their families, children included, were busy during all daylight hours and they were paid according to weight picked. Pickers were also shared, being moved around between neighbouring farms to keep up with the work required, hoping that everyone's crop did not need picking quite at the same time!

Neil checking the cotton; behind him, his means of transport around the farm!

Crop spraying.  Note the guy with the marker!  Not at all healthy for him, I imagine! I am sure today with GPS navigation this would not be necessary.

Cotton barns.

Baled and off for sale.

In winter, we grew wheat.  Not as time consuming as cotton, but also a lot of work keeping an eye on growth and potential problems. 

Checking the wheat.

The combine harvester at work.

As for the farm house, I loved it! It was small with only two bedrooms, but it suited us well. We had no electricity and this took some getting used to. Water was heated outside the back door in a huge drum,  with a log fire built in underneath it. We had a young black guy who came in and cleaned the house for us; another of his jobs was to see that the fire never went out under the water drum! We had an elderly wood stove in the kitchen which was always kept burning; the only time it ever went out was in the height of summer, when I could not stand the heat any more! For those times, we bought a couple of small gas burners for cooking the essentials. Sadly I never took any photos of the inside of the house. (I was not a blogger in those days!)

The only photo I have of the house is this misty looking picture of the front door with Neil sitting on the wall and his brother and fiancée, who were visiting, standing.

Next door to us was the main house on the farm, where lived friends Wendy and Neville. They had arrived a couple of years before us. They had electricity, so we occasionally had the chance to catch up on world news on their TV! Wendy strangely enough had also been at Arundel school, though being a year older was one class ahead of me. It was good, though, to have someone I knew close at hand and she had two lovely children whom she schooled on the farm. She also had a passion for gardening, so we were lucky enough to be able to enjoy her terraced garden which led down to the Hunyani river. 

Wendy's garden looking down at the river, in a tranquil state in the dry season when this was taken.

Rocky my Great Dane in the garden looking after a lamb that we were bottle feeding; they became very attached to each other!   We had a small herd of sheep and this poor lamb lost its mother giving birth.  In the background is Neil's German shepherd Pandora. 

The source of the Hunyani river is at Marandellas; it gets progressively wider until it reaches the town of Sinoia (close to our farm) and from there it crosses into Mozambique where it becomes the Pahame river, eventually joining up with the mighty Zambezi, the fourth largest river in Africa. When the Hunyani was in flood, we could not get off the farm by way of  the bridge near Sinoia, so we bought a small motor boat, in which we used to cross the river.

The river in flood, full of mud, covering the bottom of Wendy's garden. That mud acted as good top soil when the water level went down again!

Creeping up the garden getting ever closer to the house.  It never quite made it past the final step to cause a problem in the house!  

We would leave our car on the farm on the opposite bank, where the owners allowed us to build a car port. Motor boating sounds like lots of fun, but crossing a fast flowing river, carrying a couple of weeks' groceries was not easy, as the bank on the opposite was quite high, and of course muddy in the summer rainy season. We used to shop in Salisbury (now Harare), which was about 80 miles from the farm, so we only went there once a fortnight.  To add to this, there was always the chance of meeting up with a crocodile, of which there were several in that area, but thankfully there were no hippos. I remember one night we had spent the evening in Raffingora, on the opposite side of the river, with neighbours and their young son from the next door farm.  A good meal, a few drinks and a game of darts had everyone a bit revved up! Returning home, rocking the boat seemed good fun until the son went overboard. A few minutes of panic and he was back in the boat, but it certainly sobered us all up very quickly. 

My Mum and Dad arriving for a visit. It was a shorter drive to arrive via the farm opposite us on the river, than to take the long drive around by the bridge (if it was in use!).

Our carport on the opposite side of the river after a massive hail storm. Luckily for us the car was on our side of the river in the garage that night!

During this period, we both carried on with a little falconry, in which I had sound training from John Condy and which I have spoken about earlier in this blog.   I am with a Little Banded Goshawk and Neil is with a Lizard Buzzard.

My Life Before Charente to be continued :-) 

 

The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if you should be interested:-

 

See

 http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1

My Mum buys a race horse.

At the end of 1963, my Mum successfully bid for a horse called Thorstone at an auction at the Borrowdale race track. 

Thorstone when we bought her.

She was a large, very gangly chestnut mare who, to that date, as a two year old had shown nothing at all on the race track. Dad was convinced that as a three year old, she would fill out and with that would come the improvement he expected from her. His patience paid off and she had a number of second places, which more than paid for her keep, before finally gaining some wins.

My Mum leading in Thorstone, with jockey Charles Purchase, into the winning enclosure on 14 March 1964.

and with Jockey Ian Mackenzie-Smith 4 July 1964

In September 1965, when there was a large amateur race meeting at Borrowdale,  I partnered her, to win the main race of the day.

A proud Dad leading Thorstone and me into the winning enclosure.  This win actually caused a big upset, as the horse that finished second had been very heavily backed!  At least the bookmakers were happy!

I had an excellent day’s racing, achieving another two wins, riding a chestnut called Significance and a dark bay called Happy Time.

Significance owned by Mrs Nicholas, trained by Errol Abrahams and ridden by myself. Won by a short head!

Kubla Khan was still going from strength to strength and by this time he was well into A grade and competing in the Rhodesian team events. He had certainly taken over where Mr Smith had left off. He was an extremely strong horse and it had taken me some time to find the solution to the problem of keeping him under control! I came up with the idea of using a hackamore, which is a bitless bridle, and this just worked miracles with him. Suddenly I was in full control and he listened to every move I made. He was the only horse on which I had ever used one of these bridles  and I was more than impressed with the result!

Myself, and Kubla Khan wearing a normal snaffle bit in this photo.

The next couple of years were a mixture of the Veterinary Research Laboratory, wild life work, falconry, riding Kubla Khan and competing in local shows, while at weekends, when possible, going to the farm to see Neil. 

Myself on the farm with Neil's two dogs, Yogi on my right and Trixie under arm.

 Dad was still training, enjoying it, and holding his own with a number of wins at the race track.

Dad leading in Budget with jockey Andrew Erasmus in the saddle.

19 April 1965

Me leading in Budget with Roddy England in the saddle.

7 June 1965

Note:  My Mum would have been 100 years old today, 10 June 2015. RIP.

My Life Before Charente to be continued :-) 

 

The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if you should be interested:-

 

See

 http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1

Rocky becomes a new member of our family.

For my 21st birthday, my parents bought me a Great Dane, who we named Rocky. He had been bred by our local veterinary surgeon and at the time was about 9 months old. I went to the surgery to meet him, and found him lying happily in front of the fire with a litter of Chihuahuas playing happily on him, climbing back and forth over the top of his back and belly. He seemed more than happy to jump into my car when brought outside and we became instant companions. He was very protective and seldom left my side. When in the car, nobody dared to come close as he sounded a bit like a lion in full roar; not even my friends who he knew well would take the chance of going near the car if he was in it!

Rocky

At the same time I changed to a double bed, as Rocky decided that there was no doubt about where he was going to sleep and that was on my bed! Very little room was left for me on my original single bed. The door to my bedroom led to the outside, so it was ideal that not only could he be by my side but he was also in a position to guard the comings and goings in the garden area surrounding the house. 

Introducing Rocky to Dusky.

Seems they are happy in each others' company

Not too long after Rocky joined the family, I went to see Neil at the farm. While on the road, I passed a family who were obviously going on holiday with their caravan, but their vehicle had broken down. On passing I realised there were small children there, so as I had Rocky in the back I reversed back to see if I could help in any way. The father asked if I could take him to the next town where he hoped to find someone who could help him, so I said jump in and I would take him with me. While talking to the parents, Rocky was unusually quiet but as soon as I had an unknown passenger in the car, a low growl started in the back. I spoke to Rocky and told him to calm down, but I saw my passenger stiffen and freeze into position. It was  a trip of only about 5 miles and I have seldom seen anybody get out of a car so quickly with garbled thanks when we arrived at our destination! Hopefully the poor man found some help fairly quickly so his family could resume their travels.

My Dad with Rocky.  Dad was just on 6ft (1.83 metres) so this gives an idea of how big Rocky was.  The Pekingese at the bottom is a dog that I was given when the owners returned to the UK.  He  also thought he was the boss and Rocky had a lot of respect for the snappy little fellow!

Going for a ride :-)

Neil with Bits the dog that his family owned.  Bits was quite a character and was frightened of thunder.  He always took refuge in the bath of all places. You had to remember not to leave the washing in soak in the bath if there was a storm around!!

My Life Before Charente to be continued :-) 

 

The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if you should be interested:-

 

See

 http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1

Dad's fibreglass car and my first pony in Rhodesia. Still in the 1950's!

At the time of moving house, Dad had ordered a fibreglass car body from the UK. I think that the original plan was to build it up for use in the local car club driving events, but as far as I remember, this  never materialised!  The car was built with a Morris Minor engine, and when the weather was good, Mum would use it most of the time. It had an open cockpit, with no doors and I remember her always having to wear slacks when driving it!   One of the stories about this car that is vivid in my mind was when Mum was shopping one day; a school kid asked Mum what kind of car it was. She replied “it’s a Morris Minor”, so the friend with him responded  “ask a silly question and you  get a silly answer”!

My Dad's Morris Minor 'Special'. This must have been before it was registered as I see there are no number plates on it.  You can understand how my Mum could not wear a skirt to go shopping when she had to clamber in and out!

Soon after the house move, we had a stable and tack room built and then the search was on for a pony for me. By this time, my Dad was selling tractors and a lot of his time was spent travelling to farms in different areas. He had gone to a farm in Umwukwes, where the farmer was a keen polo player.  Dad asked if the farmer knew of any ponies for sale and the farmer replied that he had one that might be ideal for my purposes. It had been bred on the farm and although he had high hopes that one day the pony would be part of his polo team, Dusky, as the pony was called, did not have the heart for the game. So long as he did not have to ‘push off’ another horse, which is required in the game of polo, he could do everything else that was required; however, the game is tough and he lacked some of the heart and power to push the horse playing next to him out of the way.

Dad off-loading a Nuffield tractor that he had sold on the farm. Note the basic but clever loading platform!

After some discussion it was arranged that I would go up to see Dusky at the weekend, and before we knew it, I was the proud owner of a pony and there was a head looking out over the new stable door!!

The very next day I rode over to Lewisham Riding School to show Dusky off. I was so proud of him and everyone appeared to be duly impressed. It was of course going to be a long time before I was riding him in competition, as he still had to learn how to jump and nip around quickly in the gymkhana events. During the week I still rode the school ponies in class, but at the weekends I took Dusky to Lewisham where everyone helped me with his education. He was a quick learner and seemed to relish the fun of gymkhana events which involved lots of quick twisting and turning. 

Dusky and myself about 1958. He was just 14:2 hands high.

He was very strong, and at times it was all I could do to keep him under control. Jumping came more slowly to him and he did not seem to show too much enthusiasm; but when I took him on his first paper chase, he loved every minute of ‘running with the hounds’.

The Right Honourable John Long owned a pack of hounds and "paper chasing" became particularly popular in Rhodesia, where of course there were no foxes! Paper chases take place on a route laid out by a member of the hunt and he rides from starting point to the finish, dragging behind his horse, a sack carrying the scent that the hounds will follow. These events were also a magical training facility for young horses, as they socialised and learnt the manners needed in a crowd. I think that the horses enjoyed their day out as much, if not more, than their owners!

This first event seemed to inspire Dusky's jumping and from there on, he went from strength to strength. We used to ‘hunt’ a couple of times a month.

Above and below, photos of me from  previous years, riding the grey pony called Prince Charming at a gymkhana.

My Life Before Charente to be continued :-) 

 

The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if you should be interested:-

 

See HERE