Seaflight, Kariba, etc

[Howard Neill]

http://www.angelfire.com/art2/rhodesia/kariba.html

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[pennymac]

How Howard,

That's really cool, the photo's are awesome!!

[jiggs]

Hi Howard awsome pics thanks - somewhere I have a series of pics taken as fast as I could rewind my Instamatic in 78 from the river level, of one gate opening

Thanks again good memories

[Tricky Nicky]

Now I am REALLY homesick! :smiley19: :smiley19: :smiley19:

Lovely to look at tho and such fabulous memories.

[Howard Neill]

Did anyone ride on the Seaflight? We did a couple of day trips across to Bumi Hills, around 1972/3. My son & I sailed, on Sealion, from Andora to Milibizi, in 1990. Brilliant!

[licorice]

no I never managed that flight, thank you for the link Howard, was so great to see.

[licorice]

As this is a Kariba, nostalgia. I have posted here a poem, written by a dear friend of mine.

The Man Who Dreamed Kariba



A hundred years or more ago there must have been a man,
Who looked upon Kariba gorge and saw Kariba dam,
He saw the wild Zambesi as it thundered through that slot,
Named the “mouse-trap” by Batonka who came from near that spot.
This man was not a dam-builder or engineer by trade,
But he had the soaring vision, from which all dreams are made,
From seeds he sewed there grew a plan which others carried on,
And the plan became a project long after he was gone.

I like to think his spirit watched the process as it ran,
The greatest single project built in Africa by man,
Remote in savage wilderness under a savage sky,
Infested with malaria and the toxic tsetse fly.
Rhino left their stamping grounds and lion left their kills
As sixty miles of access road was blasted through the hills.
A new town was constructed for thirty thousand men,
Who came to work upon the site and then go home again.

Five years they toiled in sweat and dust and sun as hot as sin,
Bulldozers, cranes and gelignite all added to the din,
They built the lofty coffer dams and began the mighty wall,
Pylons marched both north and south to carry power to all.
Five hundred miles of virgin bush were cleared for fishing sites,
And Batonka were resettled from the valley to the heights.
A great generator cavern was gouged from solid rock,
And concrete poured from mixers that worked around the clock.

By day and night the haulage trucks drove down the access road,
And churned up monstrous clouds of dust with each and every load,
Surveyors pegged the shoreline and mapped the future islands,
They measured depths from the riverbed and the slopes of the Bumi highlands.
The great Zambesi river would not timidly surrender,
And struck, with the most massive flood, that mankind could remember.
It overflowed the cofferdams with three years worth of rain,
But they pumped the coffers dry once more and started work again.

In nineteen fifty-nine they poured the final concrete load,
The river drove the turbines and the precious current flowed.
The Zambesi was weary and, for once, the site was still,
The workers watched and waited as the lake began to fill.
The curved wall towered four hundred feet and half a mile across,
The lake would stretch two thousand miles but it came at a cost.
Two hundred men who lost their lives are on a plaque inscribed,
But what a monument they left in that wild place they died.

For two long years the lake rose slow, engulfing hills and woods,
And spreading into valleys where villages once stood.
Wild game fled to higher ground until they were marooned,
Unless they could be rescued, all these animals were doomed.
Operation Noah was the wildlife rescue plan,
To save the stranded animals and bring them safe to land.
Five thousand buck were rescued from shrinking island shores,
And then set free upon the land while they returned for more.

Leopards, baboons and pythons were dragged from drowning trees,
They braved the crocs and scorpions and swarms of vicious bees,
They brought down angry rhino with tranquilising darts,
And floated them to freedom on clumsy, oil-drum rafts.
Operation Noah made news throughout the world,
TV and press recorded as the true drama unfurled.
For eighteen months they toiled in the daylight and the dark,
Game rangers were the heroes and they named their boat The Ark.

The lake was rich in nutrients from rotting vegetation,
The fish grew fast and multiplied beyond all expectation.
They stocked it well with sardines that bred abundantly,
Commercial fishing then became a vibrant industry.
Vundu, chessa and bottlenose were often caught and seen,
There is nothing like a breakfast of fresh Kariba bream.
But the pinnacle of fishing and every angler’s wish
Was to hook and play and then to land the fighting Tigerfish.

The lake became the playground of Rhodesians far and wide,
Who revelled in the freedom that Kariba could provide.
Houseboats for hire, safaris and waterside resorts,
Power boats, canoes and sailing became the major sports.
Game viewing from the houseboats of wildlife on the shore,
Brought people close to elephant and buffalo and more.
Vast herds of sleek impala grazed in groups that moved as one,
Hippo snorted in the shallows and crocs basked in the sun.

Cormorants and Spurwing geese and gulls have made their nests,
Jewelled Carmine Bee-eaters with iridescent chests,
Kingfishers and Marabous with ever watchful eyes,
The lonely call of a Fish Eagle that soars in the summer skies.
Names too are evocative – Spurwing and Milibizi,
The Matusadona mountains that hem the great Zambesi.
Charara, Binga, Tiger Bay that nestles in the Ume,
Sampakaruma Island and safaris out from Bumi.

To me Kariba shows that man can sometimes do some good,
A brave decision boldly done as all such projects should.
It transformed a hostile wilderness into a paradise,
It harmonised with nature under Africa’s tall skies.
Just sit still in the evening as the sun begins to ease,
And silhouettes the desiccated branches of drowned trees.
Hear the roar of lions as they gather round the kill.
If you don’t feel the magic, then I guess you never will.

The spirit of the man who dreamed, looks on the lake below
Recalling those who toiled there some fifty years ago.
He must feel real contentment at that serenity,
That reflects the valley sunlight and became his legacy.


WMPB/28.10.08

[Tricky Nicky]

That is just fantastic. I want to go home to Kariba NOW! I am going to keep a copy of that - it is just fabulous.

[licorice]

Glad you liked it Nicky I will let my friend know.

[Howard Neill]

Some years ago someone in our wider family suggested that we should make notes about when we were growing up - just for the record. This is what I wrote about Kariba, which was still under construction. Please forgive the use of names, which will mean nothing. To remove them would require a rewrite and I don't have time for that:-

On 3rd December 1958 the dam wall at Kariba was sealed and the great Zambesi river finally had been tamed. It rapidly began backing up behind the massive, partially completed, wall. Within days it was many times the size of Lake Mc Illwayne. In the mean time, work was continuing apace to complete the wall, as well as the electricity generation facility which was the primary reason for Kariba Dam's existence.

The public were permitted to visit the site and see the progress. Whilst we were away in Natal, Dave Middleton and Alan Parker rode up there on Alan's Vespa scooter. It was an extremely adventurous undertaking. They had to contend with shocking road conditions - including 60 miles of dirt through wild and inhospitable terrain. They made it safely back and were full of tales to tell regarding the ambitious project.

On the strength of what they told us, someone suggested that we should get a party together and go up to see for ourselves. The thought of going by road did not sound too appealing. There was an airstrip, close to the dam, which was used mainly by construction personnel, but there were no scheduled flights. The only solution was to charter an aircraft.

A few initial enquiries revealed that the least expensive way, per passenger, was to use a C.A.A. Dakota. That posed the problem of how to fill the aircraft with approximately 25 paying passengers. The price per passenger was about ten pounds (R20) which was quite a sizeable sum in those days. To put it in perspective, the average pay for a junior clerk was about thirty pounds per month at that time.

Lindsay was the coordinator and he spent ages on the phone contacting the various parties. There were five Grays and five Neills so that accounted for nearly half a plane load. Ken and Mary Parker, as well as May Edmonsan, readily agreed. I watched with baited breath as, one by one, passengers were added to the list. At times it looked as though we were not going to make our quota but, finally, the target was achieved.

On the appointed day a happy throng gathered in the recently completed terminal building at Kentucky Airport. This was not your usual somber lot of passengers. These were all friends and relations who knew each other well and there was lots of laughter and leg pulling as we waited for the flight to be called. I was in charge of the cine camera and had made sure that there was plenty of film to record the occasion.

Mary Parker and May Edmonsan looked a little apprehensive when we entered the sloping cabin of the Dakota and to take our seats. This was their first flight and their nervousness was enhanced when they, and others, were asked to step outside for a moment to ease the weight of the laden plane which had now jammed firmly onto the steps.

With the steps removed we were able to take off and head north west towards our destination. I had a window seat and was able to look down as Lake Mc Illwayne slipped below our port wing. Steadily we droned on as the rich Mashonaland farmlands gave way to tribal trust lands and then, finally, hilly virgin bush which abruptly fell away as we flew over the Zambesi escarpment. That part of the country looked rugged and uninviting. I wonder what I would have thought if someone had told me that I would be spending quite a lot of time in that same wilderness and was going to get to know some parts of it quite well.

A change in the note of the engines indicated that we were commencing our descent. The plane bucked and heaved as we encountered pockets of turbulence which were rising from the Kariba foothills. The countryside was quite broken now and the turbulence increased as the Dakota leveled at 1,000 feet. One hill stood out above the rest and it was crowned with little white buildings. This was Kariba township which had been built specially to house the construction workers.

Almost immediately the massive structure of the dam wall came into view with the ragged crest of concrete of the uncompleted wall reaching up to the heavens. Mom later said that it reminded her of a cathedral. It was huge and far bigger in real life than any statistics or newspaper photographs could convey. Looking below the wall, the river was a trickle whilst, upstream, the rapidly filling lake stretched as far as the eye could see.

On the Northern Rhodesia side the aircraft banked sharply and turned southwards over the new lake. Below, one could easily make out where vast tracts of bush and trees had been cleared in the vicinity of the future shoreline. I had read that this was being done to permit boating and fishing once the dam was full.

The heat hit us as we stepped from the plane onto the tarmac. It was, but seriously hot. Kariba is about 1,000 feet above sea level compared to Salisbury's 4,000. Temperatures well in excess of 100 degrees Fahrenheit in the shade are quite normal for that time of the year.

That day was full of interest. We boarded a waiting bus and were given a fully guided tour of the project. From the low level bridge the great wall loomed above us and we watched massive buckets swinging precariously from spiderweb like "Blondin" cables as they disgorged their loads of concrete into shuttered segments of the wall.

We were taken underground along a tunnel into an immense cavern where the colossal turbines were to be housed. From a view site, high above the dam, we could see the grates of the turbine intakes where water would enter to drive the generators. Stretching southwards was a row of gaunt electricity pylons which marched through the wild countryside, ready to carry the high voltage current to the towns and cities of the developing country. This was what Kariba was all about - this was its raison d'etre. As we flew home we felt a sense of privilege at having been able to witness a miracle being enacted in the heart of this great continent.

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[Tricky Nicky]

How fantastic is that - what a great idea.

My dad went out to Rhodesia during the building of the dam wall to help design the turbines at Kariba and the turbine housing - he basically fell in love with the place and only returned to the UK in 1997!!!!

[licorice]

My mum was at the opening, along with my aunt who was one of the draftswomen used to draw the plans... We have a commemorative plate one of only 1000 made.

[Tricky Nicky]

Wow - that is soooooooo cool. :smiley20:

[Howard Neill]

"..... A bungled World Bank dam at Kariba, Zimbabwe drowned thousands of Baobabs....."

Thus spake a "Green Man" ;-)

http://drreese.wordpress.com/2009/04/03/the-astounding-baobab/

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[Tricky Nicky]

Bungled?

I read Rupert Fothergill's book about saving all the animals - it was fascinating.

[jiggs]

snivell snivel - Thanks Howard/Licorice treasured memories of a truly fantastic place - I count myself privelaged to have lived there

[Howard Neill]

"Bungled?"

That is what I have just asked The Good Doctor, at the bottom of his blog. He will be sleeping, now. He appears to be living in Australia.

I'll bet he will say that "bungled" was the drowning of the baobabs. OK, fair enough, but what was the alternative for power generation, back in the early 50s, when Kariba was designed.

If he says, "coal", what about the greenhouse effect? :naughty:

I await his reply, with interest.

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[licorice]

"Bungled?"

That is what I have just asked The Good Doctor, at the bottom of his blog. He will be sleeping, now. He appears to be living in the US.

I'll bet he will say that "bungled" was the drowning of the baobabs. OK, fair enough, but what was the alternative for power generation, back in the early 50s, when Kariba was designed.

If he says, "coal", what about the greenhouse effect? :naughty:

I await his reply, with interest.

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go get him Howard, will be interesting to see his reply.

[jiggs]

I wonder if the good doctor has any idea of the thousands of jobs the lake created as well as the food source for millions of people. I think if he is lamenting the demise of a lot of baobabs the he is very narrow minded indeed

[Howard Neill]

Should we invite him to join the "Everybody loves Kariba" Facebook group? :smiley2:

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[licorice]

Should we invite him to join the "I love Kariba" Facebook group? :smiley2:

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hahah Howard you are so bad..... I like....

[jiggs]

For shuwa and ask him if he would enjoy a cruise up the lake on the Sea Lion or a houseboat trip to the Matuasdona with a couple of hours Tiger Fishing in the Gorge

[Tricky Nicky]

I bet he wouldn't say no!

[Howard Neill]

Maybe he believes that boats pollute the waters of the "bungled dam"? He probably thinks that all dams are evil.

I have sent the blog to a friend of our son, for comment. He has a masters degree in Forestry, but he's not a tree hugger.

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[Howard Neill]

The debate is on, but it is 22h20 and I am going to bed. You guys are welcome to join in.

http://drreese.wordpress.com/2009/04/03/the-astounding-baobab/

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[licorice]

I have added my 5cents worth hehehe.

[Howard Neill]

Well done, Lesley. He turned out to be open minded. Congratulations!

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[jiggs]

An so we rest our case - Doctors beware

[licorice]

Yes dont mess with us Zimbo's, we know.

[pennymac]

Well done, Lesley. He turned out to be open minded. Congratulations!

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Open minded is good...and unusual! Well done you guys!

[jp3248]

sorry to hijack yr thread but am on the first steps of trying to find some information on my great uncle who worked on dam in the 50's.

Is there a central records office that might hold anything relating to the workers there? I'm looking for anything relating to a Billy Baldwin. He was there after the war and continued to live in southern rhodesia for many years before moving on to the carribbean to charter yanks around on a motor cruiser.

Sorry once again for posting in the wrong place.

[Howard Neill]

No problem. It is an old thread. It might be an idea to start a brand new thread, with a suitable heading?

The main contractor for the building of Kariba was an Italian company called Impresit. There were many other contractors involved in the massive project. do you know what your great uncle did?

[Howard Neill]

Here are a number of Baldwins, with Rhodesian connections.

http://www.rhodesia.com/cgi-bin/rwwsrch.cgi?baldwin

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