TWO INTREPID CANOEISTS

In the late 1930s two school buddies from the Cape Town suburb of Wynberg, Alexander (Sandy) Booth and Norman Filby, were gripped by a spirit of adventure. They would spend hours cycling along pathways around the city and venture onto the numerous craggy mountain tracks that Cape Town had in abundance at that time, before being overtaken by an explosion of suburbia, bitumen roads and privately owned land that limited adventurers to a dwindling number of regulated spots. 

These two chaps had limitless energy and would cycle long distances over most weekends, camping along river banks in their tiny tents that afforded them a sense of freedom not as readily available in the bustling metropolis that twenty-first century youngsters are familiar with. One such adventure, during a school holiday, was a cycling trip from Cape Town to Port Elizabeth (Gqeberha as it has been recently renamed) and back – a distance of about a thousand miles (1600 km). These two were no slouches in respect of enjoyment of the great outdoors!

This was also a time that South Africa was greatly influenced by its association with Great Britain and many a youngster admired the naval prowess of that island nation. The design of mighty battleships by the British had enabled them to maintain a vast empire and guard their own shores effectively. It was the period between the two World Wars (not yet numbered), and the Royal Navy had played no small role in the Allied nations emerging victorious. The magnificence of ship design and building on the British Isles was intriguing to lads of that time. This influence on young minds was significant in prodding adventure seeking young fellows like Sandy and Norman to copy, improvise and apply techniques on  a small scale in their parents’ backyard sheds. They would, as they enthused about building their own micro craft, apply as much of the skill they could muster by reading, studying and imitating the engineering marvels in the field of ship construction. Determined they were to float their own canoes before long.

Two young men embarking on such a project required a mission. This they found quite easily – indeed the Berg River had not as yet been challenged by any canoeists, and certainly not in self-made vessels. The route would take them from Wemmer’s Hoek to Velddrift, St Helena Bay as it meets the ocean. In latter years the expedition along this water course was embarked upon in 1952 using professionally constructed canoes and since 1962 it has hosted the well known Berg River Canoe Marathon annually. It is, even for the professionals of today, no mean feat to conquer the multitude of rapids, shallows and rocky outcrops. When the canoeing gets tough, the vessels need to be hoisted on shoulders and parts of the hundred and fifty mile journey (±240km) undertaken on foot. 

Inspiration for the design of the Sandy and Norman canoes came from the two battle cruisers HMS Rodney and HMS Repulse respectively. These young fellows aged 23 and 21 (in 1939) constructed their canoes in the short space of three weeks in their backyard sheds. They selected deal wood (easy DIY saw wood, usually pine) and balloon cloth (tightly woven cotton fibre fabric) for the craft. Each canoe was designed for two oarsmen, so that the “crew” could transfer to the other vessel should one be irreparably damaged en route. The weight of each was thirty to forty pound (about 20 kg) – light indeed. Sandy’s boat was named “Miss Zeekoe Vlei” and Norman’s, “Miss Berg River.” Loaded on board were the following: a small tent each, as little clothing as possible and a Spartan menu of light food. The boats cost the handsome sum of £2 each (the exchange rate in 1961 was £1=R2 when some two decades later South Africa ditched the British currency and adopted the Rand). All expenses, including sensible inoculation against typhoid (a water borne disease prevalent in most of South Africa in the 1930s), amounted to £5 each. For a young clerical worker at the time, as Sandy was, and his 21 year old buddy, Norman, it must have been a tidy sum.

In a feat as yet unachieved, the two rowed and carried their canoes during the day (when riding the rapids and rowing became impossible), and camped on the river banks at night. There was no backup, and there were no paramedics to assist should they come to grief. As told to the writer by Sandy many years later, neither of the gentlemen were strong swimmers, making their exploit even more foolhardy. Despite this, these intrepid canoeists completed the trip in a week and earned themselves a write-up in the local Cape Town newspapers. The accompanying photograph taken near Wemmer’s Hoek appeared with the article (now moth eaten and not very legible print remaining, after about eight decades languishing in an attic). Having been regaled by Sandy Booth about the trip over the years, the photograph and memories of the story are all that have survived the ravages of time. To whom the photograph should be credited is not known – so that photographer and news columnist will have to get their reward in heaven someday.

©Paul M Haupt