The Adventure Diary for 2007Click here to go back to the Adventure Diary for 2008 Conakry on the coast of Guinea
Traffic choked downtown Conakry on the coast of Guinea, West Africa at a school for the deaf and dumb. The children are bright eyed and beautiful, and to greet us they wave both hands in the air.With us is Isaac Kekana, South African Ambassador to Guinea. Dressed in a t-shirt branded with the South African flag he makes us feel proud to be South African as he assists us in giving each and every child a long lasting PermaNet® and a pack of exercise books and pencils. All part of our humanitarian expedition to circumnavigate Africa in Land Rovers and inflatable boats. Then with a police escort we’re off to the general hospital where every mother and infant receives a life saving net. You would think that we’d have become battle hardened by now – but still the emotion hits you in the pit of your stomach. The desperate poverty, children dying from malaria because the mums cannot afford a PermaNet®.
In the children’s ward we place a net on each bed. Bed by bed down the corridors, the smiles of appreciation and handshakes from the parents is heart warming. Poor electricity supply with constant power cuts has little premature children’s lives, two and three to an incubator, hanging on a thread – now there is a PermaNet® for each mother and infant, at least they will be safe when they get home. A ministry of health official makes a speech. The minister of lands and mines endorses the Mandela Scroll in support of malaria prevention. The media scribble in their pads, local TV and radio are present. The Ambassador writes… “Viva the expedition, viva.” A journalist pulls me aside: “Congratulations,” he says in his French accented English. “Hand by hand, it’s the only way. If you gave the bales of nets to the officials they will sell them in the market – and these poor people they will never get.” Next day with local malaria prevention volunteers we make our way past the notorious camp Boro where many anti government supporters were tortured and killed, some even hung from a bridge over the highway. Careful not to be seen taking pictures of the bombed out palace and loaded with PermaNet®s we launch into the Atlantic – our destination are the islands of Roum, Kassa and Tamara – small island village communities that are desperate for PermaNet®s. That’s the nature of the expedition – saving and improving lives through adventure – tomorrow we will load up the Landies and head up the coast for the ex-Portuguese colony of Guinea Bissau. Like Mozambique and Angola it had a long war of liberation followed by bitter civil war – We don’t know quite what to expect.
The road to nowhere Tired and worn out by the insistent rain and humidity, the elephant grass taller than the battered Landies – reverse, forward, reverse again, the spotlights on the bush bar casts a wide beam as we use the vehicles to flatten the grass, allowing us a patch big enough to camp on. The rain hits us again and we dive for our tents. Up early we push on, the mud, water holes and deep river crossings make it really slow going. I chat to Omar on the radio – he’s our new expedition member, joined us in Conakry. He’s a mature 24 year old who learnt English in Sierra Leone, lost his mother in the war, and speaks French and the local languages. “Omar, at the next village, ask if there’s a ferry and if people are still crossing into Guinea Bissau and is the border post open?” A few minutes later I get the answer: “Yes Papa King, yes. There’s a ferry and the people they are crossing and the border is open.” I give a sigh of relief – I’d been worried, the road had now become just a narrow hardly used mud track – it certainly didn’t look like the route nacionale to an international border. We stop the Landies and ask again at the next village. Omar gives a big grin. “Yes, there’s a ferry,” he says and so we push on. First and second, low range difflock, grinding and growling through the mud, water cascading over the bonnets, the constant swaying and jerking, the heat and humidity intensifying as we inch up the coast. “Watch out!” shouts Mashozi as I swerve for a goat and slide sideways into a deep slymerige mud hole. Ross winches me out. How much more can these poor vehicles take? The Garmin GPS shows we’ve reached the river boundary between the Republic of Guinea and Guinea Bissau. A man in a tattered blue uniform jumps out from under the thatched eaves of a hut – there’s a rusty chain across the road. “Where’s the ferry?” we ask quite geirriteerd. It hasn’t worked for a year comes the reply, it’s got a big hole and the engine’s buggered – the government people from Conakry said they’d come and fix it but they’ve forgotten about us, you’ll have to turn back.” I feel sick. Two days of slogging down a rotten road to nowhere and now all the way back. But then I cool down and see the humour of it all. How stupid, I’ve travelled enough in Africa and I should have known how these things work by now. Is there a ferry, I’d repeatedly asked – YES, had come the reply – but I’d failed to ask if it was working and AND ARE PEOPLE CROSSING? YES! But in dugout canoes, and YES the border IS open – that’s of course if you’ve arrived on foot or by bicycle having crossed by pirogue or swam and risked the crocodiles. We slowly turn the Landies around and stop under a tree for a bully beef and dry bread “sarmie”. There’s a type of fly here that bites like hell and leaves a blistery welt on your skin that itches and burns like shit – always happen at the end of the rainy season they tell us. Further up the same river is another ferry. “Is it working,” I ask. “Can it carry Land Rovers like these, when did you last see it?” We can’t say comes the answer – it’s a long way away but we have heard that people cross to the other side… Guinea Bissau Eventually we find a working ferry and cross into Guinea Bissau, one of the least known countries in West Africa. The Cashew nut trees and war torn Portuguese buildings remind us so much of Mozambique and we all get a little home sick. After frenetic francophone Conakry the small relaxed city of Bissau is alive with bars and music and even has an annual Rio type carnival. We wander out onto the wharf side at Pidjiguiti where half sunken wrecks line the old jetty. It was here on August 3, 1959 that a ‘dockworkers’ strike for a living wage took place and police opened fire at point blank range killing fifty men and wounding more that a hundred. Jose Emillo Costa who took part in the strike worded it this way…. “This old captain friend of mine, Ocante Atobo, was leaning against the wall of the office shed. When the line of police reached the spot where he was, an officer suddenly raised his gun and shot him point blank in the chest. Ocante collapsed in a pool of blood. For a split second everyone froze – it was if time stood still. Then hell broke loose. The police moved down the pier, shooting like crazy into the crowd. Men were screaming and running into all directions. I was over by my cousin Augusto Fernandes’ boat, the Alio Sulemane. Augusto, who was standing next to me, had his chest shot wide open; it was like his whole inside was coming out. He was crying: ‘Oh God, João kill me please”. But it wasn’t necessary; when I lifted his head from the ground he was already dead. The last one to die was a boatman hiding in the mud under his pirogue, out of sight of the police. A Portuguese merchant, however, spotted him from his apartment window and shot him in the back with his hunting rifle.” The massacre and the police interrogations that followed lit the spark for armed conflict and the war of Liberation against the Portuguese followed sadly by a civil war that brought Guinea Bissau to its knees. BUT now there’s peace. We meet with the minister of health and arrange to distribute life saving PermaNet®s outside Bissau. Our Scroll of Peace and Goodwill in support of malaria prevention is endorsed by the local governor and a Guinea Bissau foreign affairs representative. Outside the bombed out palace, with near naked, white clay faced tribesmen around the Landies we meet Steve who with a team of experts is lifting landmines in the interior. He directs us to a river north of Bissau where we go about preparing to launch the expedition boats into the Bijagós Archipelago. Made up of more than 40 islands, it is the largest island group along the West African coast.
There’s the familiar smell of outboard fuel and the sweat of pumping the pontoons, inserting the boards and bolting the tough Yamaha Enduros onto the transoms of the two 6m long One Net One Life Gemini inflatables. Then it’s the loading up and tying down of camping equipment, basic supplies, first aid kit, a change of clothes, bales of life saving PermaNet®s for remote island communities, some Captain from the Land Rover water tank, paper maps and the Garmin GPS’. It’s low tide and hot as hell by the time we snake through the mangrove swamps and out into the sharp chop of the waves of Guinea Bissau’s warm North Atlantic. Pelican fly overhead in perfect formation. We find an island filled with birds and baobabs. Ross catches a good sized barracuda. Another island is knee deep in shells but too rocky to camp on and somehow the spirits don’t seem right. By late afternoon, the setting sun an orange ball in the west, we find our island paradise – 90 m long by just 30 m wide – a beach and a lone baobab tree, plenty of firewood and not a human being in sight. Ross and Anna fillet the barracuda whilst Egyptian vultures dive and swoop over the sharp toothed big eyed carcass. Bruce, with his shirt off, map of Africa tattooed on his back and now looking a bit skinny after all the months of hard travel, chops the fillets into chunks and fries them up with hard round onions from the Central Market in Bissau. He then adds some precious Nando’s hot peri-peri sauce and we all sit with our backsides in the sand under a starlit sky, helping ourselves thumb and forefinger African style to succulent pieces of Bijagos peri-peri barracuda. There’s no menu, no bread or salads, no music or TV, no cellphone reception and there’s not a sole in the whole wide world that knows where the bloody hell we are, other than somewhere on the outside edge of Africa – will keep you posted…
Senegal – The most Westerly point
The supported South African humanitarian expedition that is tracking the outside edge of Africa through 33 countries has now reached Dakar in Senegal. The expedition is linked to a One Net One Life campaign in which thousands of long lasting World Health Organisation approved PermaNet®s are being distributed to pregnant mothers and to children under the age of five, a Right to Sight programme in which spectacles are given to the poor sighted and a Teaching on the Edge programme, handing out mobile libraries and writing materials to remote schools. In the Cassamance area of Senegal PermaNet®s were distributed to small groups of mothers and to a primary school in the wetlands near Cap Skiring. Using expedition inflatable boats and a massive pirogue approximately 1 500 PermaNet®s were carried to the island of Bassoul and a net given out to every mother and child in the five communities that make up the island. In Dakar at a media function attended by the head of the malaria control programme and ministry of health officials we handed over a symbolic bale of nets to the local hospital. Ministry of health officials endorsed the Scroll of Peace and Goodwill in support of malaria prevention which has also been endorsed by Nobel Prize laureates Archbishop Desmond Tutu and Nelson Mandela. The South African embassies that we have had contact with along the outside edge of Africa have been incredibly supportive of the expedition. Lovely Thembi Majola, Ambassador to Senegal, Cape Verde, Mauritania, Guinea Bissau and The Gambia writes these words in the expedition journal: To my fellow compatriots. Your epic journey along the West Coast of Africa to bring awareness and to physically distribute treated PermaNet®s to expectant mothers and mothers with babies up to five years is clearly a noble act... A very personal experience that has touched many people in a most direct, personal life saving way. I salute this noble expedition and want to express my deep respect and pride in the humanitarian work you are achieving at a great deal of personal cost. I wish you Godspeed on your journey, and am proud that you fly the South African flag, representing South African resilience, a caring spirit and a will to succeed. Hambani kahle! The Outside Edge expedition is also carrying a scroll from South African National Parks with a message encouraging a conservation partnership with its neighbours in Africa. With it they have sent three stones to be taken by expedition Land Rover to the three corners of the continent where we will collect stones to be placed at Cape Agulhas, the southern tip of Africa. And so at a ceremony facilitated by the South African Embassy in Dakar a stone was placed and another picked up at Les Almadirs, the most westerly point of Africa. From Dakar the expedition will continue North up the beach to St Louis, the oldest French settlement in West Africa and until 1958 the French capital of Senegal and Mauritania, where with the assistance of the ministry of health, more life saving PermaNet®s will be distributed in the vicinity of the Senegal River. Many thanks for your support, in caring for the people of Africa
– we will keep you posted.
The game’s in French
and the picture a bit snowy, but who gives a shit, South Africa
is bringing home the cup.
Cote d’Ivoire Greetings from Cote d’Ivoire or the Ivory Coast as it is known in English. Our travel guide reads “You are ill advised to travel here.” That’s because of the recent civil unrest during which time the large French expatriate population were evacuated. Here in Cote d’Ivoire it’s referred to as the crisis. We get off to a bad start. The border is a “dogfight” with seven bales of the expedition’s life saving PermaNet®s being impounded by customs. This means that 700 pregnant mums might go without. Out comes our Scroll of Peace and Goodwill and the negotiations continue into the dark. Finally thanks to the assistance of the South African embassy in Abidjan the nets are loaded up, passports stamped and we are on our way. Flack jackets and tight fitting camo outfits, sunglasses and red berets at an angle, French style, automatic weapons at the ready, the frantic blowing of police whistles. Twelve roadblocks in the pouring rain. Tyre bursting spikes and logs across the road. It appears that this is a major smuggling route out of Ghana and to be fair the large bales of mozzie nets could be contraband. To make things worse Anna goes down with malaria. It’s her first time and we dose her immediately and take digs in the original French colonial capital of Grand Bassam, a place of crumbling old French buildings, palm trees and a massive lagoon that stretches all the way to Abidjan and beyond. The heavy rain continuous and at times the humidity is unbearable. The truth is that an expedition like this is certainly not always easy, but I assure you that we’ll not loose our sense of optimism. After all there are still 21 outside edge countries and 7 months to go – we’ll keep you posted. The expedition in charging ahead, Anna is over her malaria and we’re in Abidjan, the gleaming high rise commercial capital of Cote d’Ivoire, sometimes referred to as the New York or Paris of West Africa. It’s quite a culture shock for the Outside Edge Expedition. Fancy cars driven by rich Lebanese, chique girls in tight jeans, we stretch the budget for a few items at an air-conditioned supermarket. Mashozi ogles at the imported French cheeses, hams and salami’s. I spend time at the wine tasting counter. Before the crisis this city must have been a gem. There’s still a bit of tension and roadblocks around and the elections have been postponed again. The contrast here between rich and poverty stricken are incredible, ankle-deep mud and six-lane motorways, corrugated iron shacks and 30-storey buildings, Paris fashions and rags. We meet John Segbo who heads up a NGO called Stop Malaria. There is a malaria crisis here and since the French were evacuated and civil unrest hit the country the organised malaria control programme has virtually stopped. Malaria is the No.1 killer here with approximately 300 people mostly children dying every day. We move in to assist by distributing long lasting insecticide treated PermaNets to maternity clinics, outlying schools and villages. Through the Land Rover speakers John Segbo translates the malaria prevention message in French. The expedition team does demonstrations on how to use and care for the nets. There’s singing, dancing and drumming. We push on up the coast and take a boat out to an island to deliver paw-paws and yams to a resident family of four chimpanzee. The humidity and the rain is endless. We’re heading for war torn Liberia. Some warn us not to go. Trying to cross into Liberia. Virtually no travellers come this way. Cote d’Ivoire Customs and Immigration are friendly and we even share a Captain Morgan together, but oh my god, Mr Big of the military is a hard nut to crack, he’s demanding 15 000 CFA’s just for permission to use the ferry across to Liberia. There is tension here. Ross uses the old trick of taking out the satellite phone and pretending to phone the embassy. I see a flicker of concern in Mr Big’s eyes. He is not the sort of bloke you mess with. I turn to John Segbo who’s assisting us with our One Net One Life malaria programme “Please plead with him John. Explain again that we’re a humanitarian expedition, that we’re born and bread Africans – not rich foreigners.” Ross pretends to have the embassy on the line. Mr Big agrees to 5 000 CFA’s. I jump at the chance. We wave goodbye to John Segbo and its low range first gear onto the crumpled ferry and into Liberia. It’s getting dark. We’re feeling a bit uneasy. On the Liberian side everybody a bit rag tagged and speaking a crazy Rasta type English. “Haya all do’in. Welcome to Liberia.” They look at the Land Rovers and the 33 flags of the outside edge that run down the sides of the vehicles. “Yaah come from Saa Africa – what’s ya mission in Liberia?” People crowd into the immigration office. It’s a shack on the river. There’s muscled dudes in tight t-shirts, sleeves cut off. A boss man appears. Mashozi is in agony with stomach cramps and we have to shoot her off into a nearby rubber plantation. The boss man stamps the passports: “You’re going have to go into Harper to see immigration and customs.” “But it is dark,” says Ross. “Roads baad, rainy season,” says another. “War’s over,” says the boss man, ”yah’ll be safe, Wilfred here will go with yah.” And so we rumble into the bombed out port town of Harper, capital city of the county of Maryland – never seen so many UN Peace Keepers in all my life. Sandbagged sentry posts, blue helmets, flack jackets and guns at the ready – will keep you posted. Liberia We’re over the initial shock of war torn Liberia. The people are welcoming and friendly, but oh how they’ve suffered in the recent war – nearly 20 years of Hell. People murdered, raped and butchered, limbs cut off by the rebels. Guns bought with diamonds. We’ve left Harper and are heading for Greenville. Never in this entire Outside Edge journey have we’ve had it so tough, the rains are endless, mud holes deeper than the Land Rovers, winching and pushing, red brown mud everywhere. Helping the occasional fellow travellers who are limping along in battered Hilux bush taxi’s. In the back of your mind there’s always the fear of an ambush. We sleep in a clearing in the jungle. It’s dark, the villagers come rushing out, amazed to find three Landies and a group of very muddy travel worn South Africans. They ring a village gong and a “town crier” spreads the message that we come in peace, no danger here. They help us with fire wood. Later the rain beats down on our rooftop tents. Next morning we distribute PermaNet®s to every pregnant mum in the village. A lovely mama called Deborah joins us around the breakfast fire. “It waah terrible,” she says in the sort of Deep South lingo the Liberians speak. “I was only 12 when the rebels came, we ran to the forest, they shot my grandfather in front of me. We went to a refugee camp in Cote d’Ivoire. I sold fish and firewood to survive and when the war was over we came back to our village. But then it started again and we had to run again, but now we are back and Ellen Johnson, she’s our new president, she’s a woman and we hope that she will treat us like her children and now we are hopeful. We grow food and UNHCR gave us some blankets, a tarpaulin to sleep under, cooking pots, some food and five dollars each. But there’s no money now and no jobs.” There are some poor sighted people in the village and we are able to distribute spectacles through our Grindrod supported Right to Sight campaign. The smile of gratitude on these old people’s faces is endearing. They can see to read and to do handcraft – its instant delight. We pack up to leave. A man walks out of the forest holding a dead white faced monkey, blood dripping from its nose. It’s bushmeat for his pot tonight. Another man brings us a tame baby chimp. Mashozi offers it bits of orange and it gazes at us with soft brown eyes as it sucks out the juice. The chimp owner shakes his head and says: “The road ahead man, it’s baahd, really baahd. You can get stuck in a mud hole for weeks.” The Shell filling station in Johnson Street, Greenville sells diesel from glass 1 gallon Blue Plate Real Mayonnaise jars, the small print reads: Quality since 1927 bottled in New Orleans. One US dollar equals 60 Liberian dollars and you can change money in the street with the Lebanese diamond traders. We get into shit with immigration because Wilfred who has been travelling with us since the Cote d’Ivoire border has no papers. They demand we pay him off – he’ll have to take a bush taxi back to the border, a killing journey through the mud and rain. The Ethiopian UN Peace Keepers allow us to camp at their base. There are search lights, razor wire and armed sand bagged sentry posts. Next morning it’s on through the mud, direction Buchanan. The pole bridges are a problem, many of them are washed away and we are forced to take detour after detour. We camp in an old logging clearing where we meet Thomas Davix who shares our breakfast of left over peri-peri chicken, Nando’s sauce and local rice. “It wah terrible,” he says chewing on a bone. “Ra-ta-tat these rebels just killing, stealing cars and property, bodies piled in the streets of Monrovia. I went and hid in the Nigerian Embassy.” I ask him if the guns have all been handed in and whether the rebels had all been integrated into society. “Yes,” he says, “The UN collected the guns and now without the guns the rebels have no power and we have forgiven them, despite the fact that they’ve killed my mother.” Sitting on one of our camp chairs, a panga in his hand, Thomas gives me a broad smile. The Liberians we meet are just so friendly and optimistic. They are so sick of war and the only thing to hang onto is the belief that things will improve in the future. I guess when you’ve had it so bad it’s the only way forward. We give Thomas a PermaNet® to be shared with his wife and small boy. Ross helps him with some fishing line and hooks, there are big catfish in the river. We leave him some clothing and a little money – what a lovely man. The sun comes out and the mud road improves as we head for Buchanan and the capital city of Monrovia. We’re pushing it. First, second and up into third and then back down into first or low ratio difflock for the next mud hole or plank bridge, clutch, accelerator, breaks – the Landies go through absolute hell. Sweat drips through onto the khaki Melvill and Moon seat covers. We pull into the jungle for lunch. “Remembaah my name – it’s Paatrick,” says a bare chested hunter with a grin as he proudly shows us the antelope. “Just caught it in a traap! Get me one a day, sell whole body for 700 Liberties.” Blood drips from the animal’s nose. “Don’t look,” I say to Mashozi as she and Anna dish up sweet corn, bananas, local bread and some sardines from the tailgate of the Land Rover. “How long to Monrovia?,” I shout to Patrick as he walks away with the antelope hanging over his shoulder, panga in his hand. “Can take you a month, roads bhaad mon! Rainy season.” Monrovia here we come – will keep you posted.
Kingsley Holgate’s humanitarian expedition is continuing to do great malaria prevention work as they track the outside edge of Africa. But from this update one gets the impression that they’re missing home a tad. Best explained in Kingsley’s own words: I realises that the journey is running into months when I starts thinking of home and things South African. You know, like Marmite, a Nando’s take-away, ice in the Captain Morgan, sleeping in till late with the Sunday papers and the dogs curled up next to the bed, being called to dinner and knowing that its roast beef and Yorkshire pudding instead of bean stew over a smoky fire. This gets me thinking of biltong and the incredible bad luck we’ve had in getting sticks of our favourite wet and fatty. You can imagine our excitement when we heard that big Deon Schurmann, who used to play professional rugby in France, was flying into Pointe Noire as French interpreter and malaria prevention volunteer. By satellite phone we get the good news. “I’m bringing 20 vacuum packed sticks, rolled up and hidden in my canvas bedroll,” says Deon. We can’t wait and the Leathermans are out, ready for the cutting ceremony. But then with a glum look, hands in the air, Deon drops a bombshell. “Got to Brazzaville to find that the bastards had nicked the whole bedroll.” Our next visitor from “South” was Adolf Waidelich, our Land Rover fitment sponsor from 4x4Megaworld. He knew about our plight and weeks before his arrival in Gabon had gone biltong hunting. Two big packets, one of impala dry wors, the other of sticks. We fetched him from Port Gentil by rubber duck and were now camped at an island at the mouth of the Ogooue River. “Adolf, let’s take it easy,” I said, sitting around the fire with a Captain Morgan. “We’ll do a bit of the dry wors tonight and save the rest for when we get back to base camp. We all slept on a tarpaulin under the stars, kept awake by the yapping of two dogs from the deserted fishing village alongside. Next morning to our shock and horror we found that the dogs had stolen into camp and guzzled the lot. “You should have tied the packets up in a tree,” says Ross with a glum look – was I bloody popular! Next man in was Hugh Roe from Cape Town who’d flown into Conakry on the coast of Guinea to join us for our inland journey down the Niger River to mystical Timbuktu. He’s a great lad and a wonderful adventurer, but the moment I saw his face I knew. “The the whole b-bloody lot was confiscated in Bamako – even bribes and negotiations did not work,” he stammers. I saw the look of shock and horror on the team’s face. The Rugby World Cup is coming up, and even the expedition is gripped with rugby fever. But it won’t be the same without biltong.
We break away from the outside edge of Africa in Conakry, Guinea and in the three expedition Land Rovers loaded with the expedition equipment, Gemini inflatable boats and Yamaha outboards, we make our way to the giant 20 000 square kilometre inland delta of West Africa’s greatest river, the Niger. Water levels are the highest in over 20 years, many of the mud villages have been “swallowed” and malaria is rife as supported by Central African Gold who have an operation in Mali and our other sponsors we distribute thousands of PermaNet®s to pregnant mums and to children under the age of five. Somewhat beaten by the sun and the intense heat we eventually arrive in the ancient trading city of Timbuktu. It’s a dream come true. I sit in the mud walled courtyard of the place where Major Gordon Alexander Laing, the first white man to enter Timbuktu, had stayed before joining a camel caravan to take him north across the Sahara. Two days later he was stopped by the Touareg and killed with a spear through the heart. Now in the same house an artist, using a quill pen, transcribes the words of an ancient scroll onto a page of the expedition Scroll of Peace and Goodwill. Camels still carry trading salt to Timbuktu, the Touareg still wear robes and turbans and fight the desert heat by drinking daily cups of sweet Mali tea brewed in delicate handcrafted kettles. BUT in this ancient place we have a modern day dilemma. The Boks have made it into the Rugby World Cup final and we’re up against England – it’s Africa against Europe. And so we leave the dusty streets of Timbuktu – the inflatable boats rolled up on the Landies, we cross on the Niger ferry and race through the potholes and the scrub, dodging cattle, donkeys, camels and goats. The game starts at 7pm local time – we’d phoned ahead, there’s a hotel in Savare town that will tune in to the game for us. Two minutes to 7, it’s a race against time. At the sight of our three Landies a policeman rushes forward, whistle blowing furiously, hand up to stop us. “Let’s go!” I shout over the radio, first making sure he’s not carrying an AK47. We wave and swerve, foot flat and acting stupid, then into the hotel grounds, a small TV with a bunny ear aerial is set out with chairs under a tree in the court yard. We all stand to attention, fists clasped to our chests for the South African National Anthem. The game’s in French and the picture a bit snowy, but who gives a shit, South Africa is bringing home the cup. The local Malians are as excited as we are. We embrace and shake hands. In broken French accented English they shout. “We are happy, so happy, it’s a victory for Africa.” Guinea Traffic choked downtown Conakry on the coast of Guinea West Africa
at a school for the deaf and dumb. The children are bright eyed
and beautiful, and to greet us they have both hands in the air.
With us is Isaac Kekana, South African Ambassador to Guinea. Dressed
in a t-shirt branded with the South African flag he makes us feel
proud to be South African as he assists us in giving each and
every child a long lasting PermaNet® and a pack of exercise
books and pencils. All this activity are part of our humanitarian
expedition to circumnavigate Africa in Land Rovers and inflatable
boats. Then with a police escort we’re off to the general
hospital where every mother and infant receives a life saving
net. You would think that we’d have become battle hardened
by now – but still the emotion hits you in the stomach.
The desperate poverty, children dying from malaria because the
mums cannot afford a PermaNet®. In the children’s ward
we place a net on each bed. Bed by bed down the corridors, the
smiles of appreciation and handshakes from the parents is heart
warming. Poor electricity supply with constant power cuts has
little premature children’s lives, two and three to an incubator,
hanging on a thread – now there is a PermaNet® for each
mother and infant. At least they will be save when they get home.
A ministry of health official makes a speech. The minister of
lands and mines endorses the Mandela Scroll in support of malaria
prevention. The media scribble in their pads, local TV and radio
are present. The Ambassador writes… “Viva the expedition,
viva.”
Humanitarian Action – Saving and Improving Lives Through Adventure
Given that the expedition left from the Cape of Good Hope and travelled up the West Coast of South Africa which is not a malaria area, it was important to immediately commence the Teaching on the Edge campaign in which the expedition distributed mobile libraries to remote schools, and in Namibia around Luderitz, Walvis Bay and Ruacana. The One Net One Life malaria prevention campaign in which long-lasting insecticide impregnated PermaNet®s are distributed to pregnant mothers and to children under the age of five got into full swing in Northern Namibia and Southern Angola, as did the Right to Sight programme in which spectacles are distributed to the poor sighted. The gratitude from the pregnant mums and those with babies under five is overwhelming as is the instant delight when a poor sighted person is able to read or do hand craft or simply weave a mat. In Angola the expedition distributed thousands of pencils, pens and exercise books to remote bush schools, many of which don’t even have desks. At Centro de Saude Boavista, a downtown clinic in the centre of Luanda PermaNet®s were distributed to pregnant mums and babies. This very successful event went out on local radio, TV and press, the story of a South African led expedition caring for the people of Africa. At Ponta de Padrao at the mouth of the Congo where Diogo Cao first erected a stone cross in 1482 we distributed PermaNet®s to pregnant mums with babies and continued to do so as we made our way across the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Cabinda and Congo Brazzaville. In Gabon with the help of the Wildlife Conservation Society we used theatre and costuming to add a conservation message to our Teaching on the Edge programme. At the Albert Schweitzer institute in Lambarene Prof Sadoo agrees that the best results that they’ve had in preventing malaria have been through the distribution of life saving PermaNet®s, proving once again that we and the sponsors who are supporting this, the most exciting expedition ever, in support of malaria prevention, are on the right track. Working in the mud and rain in Cameroun we continue to place life saving nets in the hands of pregnant mums and mums with children under the age of five in high risk malaria areas where there are no regular health services, Teaching on the Edge materials and spectacles to the poor sighted. In Nigeria we are part of a campaign to distribute over 200 000 long-lasting PermaNet®s, and a continued supply of mobile libraries and hundreds of spectacles to the poor sighted. The expedition Scroll of Peace and Goodwill endorsed by Nobel Prize laureates Archbishop Desmond Tutu and Nelson Mandela remains very much part of our humanitarian effort, now gathered over 4000 signatures and messages in support of malaria prevention. These include goodwill messages from the drivers and teams of the 347 Landies that escorted us out from the Cape of Good Hope 128 days and 16 427 km ago.
The Scroll has gone on to be messaged by government
officials, health workers, prime ministers, governors, administrators
and chiefs. In Kaokaland the Scroll was endorsed with a simple
red ochred handprint from a near naked Himba mother, in Luanda
by a member of the Dos Santos family and by the chief at Ponta
Padrao where in 1482 the Portuguese navigator Diogo Cao erected
a stone cross at the mouth of the great Congo River. At a media function in Libreville additions to the Scroll continued as the South African ambassador and the embassies of Sao Tome and Principe, Egypt, Algeria, Equatorial Guinea, Guinea Conakry and the Democratic Republic of Congo all added their signatures and messages. Added to the endorsements in support of malaria prevention are those of ordinary people as well. In the forests of Cameroun a simple pygmy signed the historic Scroll. In Nigeria it has been endorsed by High Chief Edem Duke, the Royal Chiefs of the ancient city of Calabar and the governor of Cross River State who wrote: “We commend your wonderful humanitarian effort aimed at the mothers and children of Africa. We are proud to be part of this initiative.” At a banquet in Lagos the First Lady of Lagos
State endorsed the humble expedition scroll as did the Roll Back
Malaria team who joined us in a 10 000 PermaNet® fight against
malaria in Nigeria. Dodging the wild chaotic traffic of Lagos
the three expedition Landies made it to the King’s palace
for an official signing and distribution of PermaNet®s to pregnant
mums and babies. In the Kingdom of Badagry, his Royal Majesty
the Akran wrote: In Ouidah, Benin to the accompaniment of drums, singing and dancing in the sacred forest his majesty the voodoo king Mito Daho Mindji Kpassenon wrote “I do appreciate what you are doing for peace and malaria. We voodoo people thank you for this great work.” In Ghana the Scroll is messaged by the Paramount Chief of Aflau, the regional administrators and the honourable Kofi Osei deputy minister of tourism. In Accra the director-general of education writes: “AKWAABA!!! Welcome to Ghana, the land of people who love peace – we cherish and appreciate your concern for the welfare of ordinary Africans – God bless you – BRAVO!!” Dr Bernard Kwazi Glover who is assisting us with our One Net One Life campaign against malaria writes: “This is a wonderful venture and adventure. Malaria has been endemic in this part of West Africa for centuries – in fact in colonial times the area was referred to as the ‘white man’s grave’ – caused by malaria. This venture will make a difference.” Yao Dzide writes that “Malaria is still a major killer and that the long-lasting PermaNet®s we are distributing will drastically help in reducing malaria, especially in children.” The South African ambassador in Ghana at a dinner party in our honour wrote this message: “Thank you for flying the flag of our Rainbow Nation in a noble mission of saving and improving lives.” We continue our humanitarian work in Benin and Togo and in Ghana we distributed mobile libraries, spectacles and over 6000 life saving nets. Down on the gold coast of Ghana we’ve had great success in using the historic forts and castles as distribution points for the One Net One Life campaign. Each pregnant mum and those with children under the age of five received a stamped Africa Outside Edge ticket which they exchanged for a life saving PermaNet®. It's a great humanist turn about giving out these nets in the same courtyards and on the same steps from which tens of thousands of slaves were exported to the new world, part of the horrific trade in human flesh, so its good that we distributed life saving nets from these same historic locations. J.K.W. Kwaw, the officer in charge of the world heritage site Elmina Castle, build by the Portuguese in 1482 (10 years before Columbus discovered America) added this note to the Mandela scroll: "Elmina Castle, the first of so many European settlements on our coastline is proud to receive the One Net One Life expedition. Malaria, the scourge of sub-Saharan Africa ought to be eradicated completely. Your expedition is an outstanding example of human endeavour." The One Net One Life campaign continued to Cote d’Ivoire. Abidjan, the gleaming high rise commercial capital of Cote d’Ivoire, sometimes referred to as the New York or Paris of West Africa. It’s quite a culture shock for the Outside Edge Expedition. Fancy cars driven by rich Lebanese, chique girls in tight jeans, we stretch the budget for a few items at an air-conditioned supermarket. Mashozi ogles at the imported French cheeses, hams and salami’s. I spend time at the wine tasting counter. Before the crisis this city must have been a gem. There’s still a bit of tension and roadblocks around and the elections have been postponed again. The contrast here between rich and poverty stricken is incredible, ankle-deep mud and six-lane motorways, corrugated iron shacks and 30-storey buildings, Paris fashions and rags. We meet John Segbo who heads up a NGO called Stop Malaria. There is a malaria crisis here and since the French were evacuated and civil unrest hit the country the organised malaria control programme has virtually stopped. Malaria is the No.1 killer here with approximately 300 people mostly children dying every day. We move in to assist by distributing long lasting insecticide treated PermaNets to maternity clinics, outlying schools and villages. Through the Land Rover speakers John Segbo translates the malaria prevention message in French. The expedition team does demonstrations on how to use and care for the nets. There’s singing, dancing and drumming. War torn Liberia and Sierra Leone proved to be one of the expedition’s greatest challenges as we battled through the endless mud of the wet season. Tough on man and machine we were still able to continue our fight against malaria, reaching people who had suffered horribly during the war in which rebels had savaged communities and hacked off limbs. Many of the remote villages we visited had only recently returned from refugee camps in Ghana and Cote d’Ivoire. In Freetown, capital of Sierra Leone, Dr Baker head of the National Malaria Control Programme, endorsed the Scroll with these words of thanks: “This expedition shows the real African brotherhood spirit of one country caring for another. We extend our sincere and heartfelt gratitude.” In a massive One Net One Life effort, the expedition detoured from Conakry on the coast of Guinea inland to Djenne in Mali where as part of the end of Ramadan celebrations, hundreds of PermaNet®s were delivered to the maternity clinic and river side homes – all within close proximity of the Djenne mosque World Heritage Site, the largest mud building in the world. After Djenne the expedition followed the Niger River through its 20 000 square kilometres inland delta to mythical Timbuktu. With the highest rainfall in years the delta has “swallowed” many villages and as the waters now recede malaria is rife. Using the expedition inflatable boats we travelled from village to village, placing long lasting nets in the hands of pregnant mothers as well as spectacles to the poor sighted. In the poor areas of Bamako nets were distributed to thousands of pregnant mums via well organised events at maternity clinics and schools. The media followed these events with keen interest, a malaria prevention expedition that had been to Timbuktu and back was certainly news worthy. Imagine the excitement as we sat around a small TV set with bunny ear aerials watching the Springboks bring home the cup. With over 20 000km and six months behind us humanitarian expedition moved back to Conakry on the coast of Guinea where we worked with the local Ministry of Health, the Malaria Control Programme and the Department of Education to continue to fight the scourge of malaria in Guinea. Radio, press and TV got behind the campaign and Mr Isaac Kekana the ambassador of South Africa to the Republic of Guinea joined us at a maternity clinic and a deaf and dumb school to assist. He wrote these words in the Mandela Scroll: “The humanitarian donations to Africa’s poor of PermaNet®s makes us all proudly South African. Viva the expedition, viva! Viva the expedition, viva!” Today we leave for Guinea Bissau – we will keep you posted – THANKS FOR THE SUPPORT IN CARING FOR THE PEOPLE OF AFRICA 30/9/2007
WELCOME TO GHANA is written in big bold letters on an arch at the border post with Togo. The Ghanaian word for welcome is Akwaaba and welcomed we indeed are. British Airways, who are supporting our One Net One Life malaria prevention campaign, are here to meet us in full force. There’s traditional dancing and drumming and a PermaNet® distribution day at the Paramount King’s palace with more drumming and dancing. The Paramount Chief sits on his gilded throne, near naked women kneel on mats, pregnant mums and mums with babies line up for their nets. The Paramount Chief endorses the Mandela Scroll of Peace and Goodwill in support of malaria prevention. And so our humanitarian journey up the coast of Ghana continues with further additions to the Scroll. In Accra the director-general of education writes: “AKWAABA!!! Welcome to Ghana, the land of people who love peace – we cherish and appreciate your concern for the welfare of ordinary Africans – God bless you – BRAVO!!” Dr Bernard Kwazi Glover who is assisting us with our One Net One Life campaign adds: “This is a wonderful venture and adventure. Malaria has been endemic in this part of West Africa for centuries – in fact in colonial times the area was referred to as the ‘white man’s grave’ – caused by malaria. This venture will make a difference.” Yao Dzide writes that “Malaria is still a major killer and that the long-lasting PermaNet®s we are distributing will drastically help in reducing malaria, especially in children.” The South African ambassador in Ghana at a dinner party in our honour wrote this message: “Thank you for flying the flag of our Rainbow Nation in a noble mission of saving and improving lives.” It’s great when people appreciate what we are trying to do as our adventure to improve and save lives continues up the West Coast of Africa. One of the three outside edge expedition Land Rovers has been sponsored by 600 school children from Centurus Colleges and is proving to be great fun. They get regular history and geography updates which take then around the outside edge of Africa. This way these children get know about countries like Angola, Gabon, Cameroon, Benin and Togo – it’s a wonderful adventure and some of the lucky few from Southdowns, Tygervalley and Pecanwood, together with a group of teachers and Trevor Glass, the founder of these schools, get to fly into Accra in Ghana to meet with the expedition. It’s wonderful to see these children’s faces as they walk hand in hand with little Ghanaian kids through a rural school called The Lord is my Shepherd where they distribute mobile libraries and PermaNet®s – there’s even a handing over ceremony in which a South African flag is exchanged for a Ghanaian one. This is the sort of Peace and Goodwill that this expedition is all about and at Bibiani we are hosted by Greg Hunter of Central African Gold who is supporting us in One Net One Life malaria prevention. Their goldmine is within the Ashanti Kingdom and next day we all have the privilege of meeting his royal majesty Otunfuo Osei Tutu II, the Ashanti King and later these words are added to the expedition scroll: “The manhyia palace seat of the Asante Kingdom is happy to be associated with this crusade to rid malaria… Africa is grateful.” We say goodbye to our little adventurers and continue with our crazy adventure up the coast of Ghana.
Little Benin republic - It is the Venice of Africa
After the madness and chaos of Lagos and Nigerian roads, little Benin republic seems like an oasis of calm. Sure the sprawling city of Cotonou has 10’s of 1000’s of mopeds – flat out two or three to a bike and still no crash helmets – but gone are all the roadblocks and outside the city we find what is considered to be the largest lake village on the continent. It is the Venice of Africa with over 20 000 people living above the water in huts built on stilts and people commuting in dugout canoes. The name of the village is Ganvie – our boatman tells us it means place of safety because during the slave trade people there were safe from invasion by the Dan-homey slavers because for religious reasons it was forbidden to extend their attacks over water. Malaria is rife in Ganvie. Today’s PermaNet®s are funded by Durban based Grindrod Limited and it is a fascinating exercise as we distribute the life saving nets to mums and babies who arrive at the little hospital by dugout canoe, tiny babies strapped to their backs. Most of these Tofinu speaking women make a living from trading in fish which are grown and trapped in a network of branches that make up the underwater fences known as Akadja. I can see the appreciation in the mother’s eyes – many of them know what it’s like to loose a baby from the bloodsucking bite of the female Anopheles mosquito. They’ve seen loved ones convulsing in fever or the dreaded coma before one dies from cerebral malaria. We personally place a net in each mother’s hand – they curtsy and demurely shake hands. The rain clouds gather, the sweat trickles down our backs. The village chief shakes us by the hand, but I can’t relax. Back in Cotonou Ross is sweating it out with a terrible bout of malaria. Its crazy isn’t it? How sometimes we risk our lives to save lives. Tomorrow if Ross is well enough we’ll go down to the voodoo stronghold of Ouidah where through the Gates of No Return slaves from Benin took the voodoo religion to the distant America’s, the Caribbean, Brazil, Cuba and Haiti – we need to know more – it’s all part of discovering Africa’s outside edge. The humidity is thick as golden syrup. Ross is struggling – he’s puked up the first four pill dose of Coartem, so we give him anti nausea tablets, wait awhile and re-commence the malaria treatment. It’s scary.
The next day it’s back in Land Rovers and a Gemini inflatable boat travelling with a delightful team of journalists that Lesley Sutton from Land Rover has flown in with. We’re heading for the slave port of Grand Popo – in this crazy land of voodoo may God be with us.
Out of French and into English the “Welcome to Ghana”
sign is within the city limits of Lome, the capital of Togo. We’re
still slowly working our way around the outside edge of Africa,
behind us are 11 countries, 136 days (Eben please work this out
from 27 April to date of publication), buckets of sweat, tens
of thousands of PermaNet®s, desserts, rivers, lagoons, lakes,
beaches and rainforests, sprawling cities, fishing villages, mud
and more mud, countless campfires and through it all a will to
save and improve lives through this crazy adventure.
Instantly perceptions of Nigeria change – this is the joy of travel!
Two or three people to a moped, no crash helmets, they expertly
duck and weave through the traffic, street vendors selling everything
from drinks to toothbrushes line the road. It’s all a dangerous
game of dodgem cars, the busses and taxis all painted bright yellow
are dented and scarred as they nudge their way through the potholed
puddled mess that makes up the craziest city we’ve yet visited.
It’s no surprise that trucks, busses and lorries carry slogans
like “God’s my Pilot” and “God’s
Luck”, but believe me, to survive this lot you need a huge
dose of divine providence. Thank God we’ve got an armed
escort. We meet the first lady of Lagos State, the king of Lagos
and the Royal House all who endorse the Scroll of Peace and Goodwill
in support of malaria prevention. Bob Thielcher from Protea Hotels
in Lagos puts us up in luxury – clean sheets, ice in the
Captain and warm hospitality. They too have joined our One Net
One Life cause and here in Nigeria donate 1000 PermaNet®s to
the needy who live in high risk malaria areas around Lagos. As
always the South Africans really move in to help. Nando’s
open up their 6th Restaurant in Nigeria. It is a never to be forgotten
peri-peri bash and our expedition team are the guests of honour.
It’s taken us over 4 months and 16,000km to get here. Founder
member Robbie Brozin is here to meet us. He hands over a Help
Nando’s Fight Malaria cheque. They fly in celebrity chefs
Clayton Sherrod from America and Citrum Khumalo from South Africa.
The humidity is as thick as golden syrup. At the market at Beye
on the Lagos Lagoon there are live crocodiles and turtles for
sale but the chefs stick to fish, greens, yams, groundnuts, pumpkin
seeds and chillies as they prepare us a peri-peri bash on the
beach. David O’Sullivan from Radio 702 flies up to meet
the expedition. Toes in the sand we drink Captain Morgan till
late and next day we distribute PermaNet®s to the village. Humanitarian Action – Saving and Improving Lives
Through Adventure A few questions to Kingsley
And did you make it to the island of Sao Tome? Have you had good support from the South African Department
of Foreign Affairs?
What is Cameroun like? Where to after Cameroun? Greetings from Gabon, a jewel on the raw edge of Africa! “It seems ages ago that a world record
347 Land Rovers escorted us out of the Mother City from the Cape
of Good Hope. Behind us now is the West coast of South Africa,
the entire length of the Namibian coast to include the Sperrgebiet,
the great sand ocean of the Namib and the length of the Skeleton
Coast through to the Cunene River. Following the outside edge
of Africa is sometimes tough. There was always the risk of unexploded
landmines in the north of Angola and the crossing the Congo was
dodgy – 80 blokes screaming and shouting full of the noo
on palm wine, manhandling the Landies onto a narrow hand build
plank barge, powered by two antique 40 HP outboards. We nearly
drowned one of the Landies, saved only by winching it onto the
one in front. We had passports and bucks in our top pockets and
one of our Yamaha powered Gemini inflatables alongside just in
case. The Congo is Africa’s biggest river and at the mouth
there’s a canyon over 1km deep. We shat ourselves every
time a swell hit us but somehow made the 26km across from Soyo
in Angola to Banana in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Thick
green equatorial forest, fan palms, tree ferns and palmnut vultures.
Commotion on the red dust road. Pigmies in masks, their entire
bodies covered in layers of dry banana leaves – no arms
or legs or head – just mask and leaves, little grunting
noises. People at the roadside singing and jolling, ten dollars
to pass – it’s the custom. Plastic chairs and tables
under palm thatch. Primus beer in thick brown bottles –
we shook hands with the secretary of the village, Captain Morgan
was decanted from the Landie tank into two big plastic mugs. We
danced and sang – we’d survived the river and since
then the DRC, Cabinda and the Republic of Congo. It has always been a dream to reach Dr Albert Schweitzer’s memorial hospital in Lambarene and so from the mouth of the great Ogooue River we detour inland to pay our respects to one of the greatest doctors Africa has ever known. We sat at the grave site and slept in the actual rooms where the early doctors and nurses had lived for years: tending the sick who would arrive in dugout canoes from the bush. Malaria, sleeping sickness, tropical ulcers, snake bite and terrible wounds from crocodile and hippo attacks were the order of the day. Albert Schweitzer with his wife Helene had set out from Europe for Gabon in 1912 and had set up a hospital on the banks of the Ogooue. We visited his old operating theatre and the house he’d lived in – even his old piano is still there – fished off the beach from a shipwreck. What a great man who’d given his life to Africa and to tending the sick and dying in the remotest of Equatorial locations. It is fitting that the Scroll of Peace and Goodwill we are carrying through 33 countries around the edge of Africa in support of malaria prevention, as messaged by Nobel Prize laureates Archbishop Desmond Tutu and Nelson Mandela also gets endorsed by the director of the Albert Schweitzer Institute of Nobel Peace prize fame. Prof Sadoo, head of the malaria research institute in Lambarene agrees that the best results that they’ve had in preventing malaria have been through the distribution of PermaNet®s. We are on the right track. In Libreville people shout and wave as they see the three expedition Land Rovers pass – it even helps with the road blocks. It’s all because local television, press and radio pictured the expedition with the South African ambassador to Gabon, and the ambassadors of Egypt, Sao Tome, Equatorial Guinea, Nigeria, Benin, Algeria, Guinea – all countries that are part of our humanitarian expedition to track Africa’s outside edge. The ambassadors and media endorsed the Scroll of Peace and Goodwill in support of malaria prevention and in a brief ceremony 5 boxes of spectacles were handed over to Madam Georgette Koko, the vice prime minister of environment who with the help of the South African embassy distribute them to the poor sighted as part of the expedition’s Right to Sight campaign. There is no doubt that the story of a South African family and a team of volunteers travelling the rim of Africa, using adventure to save and improve lives, has fired the imagination of all we come across. South Africa, Namibia, Angola, the DRC, Cabinda, Congo, Gabon, Sao Tome and little Principe (where we met the president)are behind us now as we head through the rainforests for Cameroun.
Four days in the life of an expedition Lately it’s been difficult to get hold of Kingsley Holgate. They’ve been stuck in the Equatorial forests of the Congo, at times so dense that they can’t even get a satellite signal on their Garmin GPS’s. Today we get this note from the Greybeard himself who with his family and team of malaria prevention volunteers are still tracking the outside edge of Africa. The note’s simply called Four days in the life of an expedition… We’re bloody lost – no satellite signal, the primary rainforest thick and overgrown, re-building plank bridges as we go – Jeez! mud up to your knees and it stinks – pushing, pulling and winching – then we’re into a forest clearing. We get our bearings – its beautiful, savana grassland between forest outcrops, a chimpanzee runs across the path, he only notices us at the last moment and speeds for a tree. We’d seen gorilla tracks in the mud and heard them in the jungle. We’re desperate to observe forest elephant or pygmy elephant as they are sometimes referred to. We find Jannie Fourie at Loango Lodge in the wilds of Gabon. He heads up a safari outfit called Operation Loango – started by an adventurous Hollander Rombout Swamborn, who’s putting money into saving the forests and wildlife of Gabon. “There they are!” shouts Mashozi as a flock of African Grey parrots settle noisily in a tree above our forest clearing camp – makes us a bit homesick for “George”, our African Grey back home. Jannie gives us a guide called Dimitri – I swear he’s got a bit of pygmy in him. We’ll leave at dawn down the Akaka River in search of forest elephant. Ross catches an African Cubera snapper in the mouth of the Loango Lagoon – we eat it with the last of the Nando’s sauce. The early morning mist hangs over the river and with the sun comes the tsetse flies. “To the left!” shouts Bruce Leslie from the front of the Gemini inflatable. And there he is, looking out from the green papyrus – our first pygmy elephant with his little Mickey Mouse ears and his small tusks, feet in the mud, he’s small enough to duck through the thick primary forest – he’s beautiful. Shy Sititunga look up from their breakfast nibble of swamp grass, an African forest buffalo swims across the river in front of the boat. Pelican fly in formation over the endless forest, Egyptian vultures look down on the boat from their leafy perch – we’ve never seen so many African Jacana before, bright malachite kingfisher dart between tall green papyrus heads that sway in the wake of the boat. More elephant with every sweep of the river, a lone hippo and a long snouted fish eating croc on a mud bank. Spaghetti and meat out of a can, we sleep in a forest shack, owls hoot throughout the night, we hear chimps in the forest. Here it is not uncommon to see elephant and buffalo on the beach and hippo surfing in the waves. President Bongo established a national park system encompassing 11% of the country’s territory. More than 70% of Gabon is covered in pristine rainforest. The national bird of Gabon is the African Grey. This is Gabon, a forested jewel on the raw edge of Africa. Next day it is back in the Landies, the Cooper Tires at 0.8 of a bar squeak on the powder white sand as we race against the tide – and then in the distance the wreck of a giant ship, high and dry on the beach, not a sole in sight, a thick anchor rope tied to a tree in the forest – there’s no rust – it must have just happened - its eerie like a ghost ship. Like pirates the team climb a rope ladder hanging from the side. Called the Loba E Ndedi, registered in Limbe, Cameroon, she’s been ransacked but we find old sea charts for North and West Africa – they’ll be great for the way north – and orange life rings which we attach to the front of each Landie. We push on, it becomes risky on the high tide as we dodge waves and mangroves, the setting sun and the Atlantic on our left, we’re stopped by the wide mouth of the Nkoni Lagoon where a metre from the shore barracuda chase shoals of sardines. Here the crystal clear estuaries are as God made them. Babu Cossa, our expedition hand from Mozambique, fillets a barracuda – the other one we give to a group of passing fishermen. We set up a base camp, just the sighing wind, the campfire, three Landies and some crazy pilgrims of adventurers attempting to circumnavigate Africa. Out with the choke, a few pumps on the fuel bulb, a pull on the rope and the Yamaha Enduro roars into life. The only way forward is in one of the expeditions’ Gemini inflatables. Bruce, Babu and Sam will stay behind at the Nkoni Lagoon base camp. Ross, Mashozi, Annelie, Quentin Makaya our Gabonese interpreter and myself will trace the mangrove backwaters into the great Ogooue River. Loaded with emergency supplies, extra boat fuel and sleeping bags – Ross plots a course on the Garmin GPS – we’d be lost without it. Everybody a bit tense, it’s a race against time, Port Gentil or bust where we are collecting a “special package” off the plane – Ross’ 6 year old little Tristan Kingsley Holgate, our youngest expedition member, who’s being escorted in for a while with 4x4MegaWorld owner Adolf Waidelich. We can’t wait – he’s a little bundle of joy, sings and dances like Johnny Clegg and is like the Maugli character in Rudyard Kipling’s Jungle Book. He’s fast become the expedition mascot. At Port Gentil he races into our arms. And then on the sunset, waves breaking over the boat, it’s back across the bay to a little island at the mouth of the Ogooue. Around the fire Adolf takes out the goodies: a bottle of Captain Morgan, a bag of Kudu biltong and stories from home. We role out a tarpaulin and sleep under the stars like sardines. Next morning to our horror we find that a village dog has stolen the remainder of the biltong bag. Its five hours through the mangroves to get back to our base camp. From there we will have to get the Landies to Libreville via Lambarene where the Scroll of Peace and Goodwill in support of malaria prevention as messaged by Nobel Prize laureates Archbishop Desmond Tutu and Nelson Mandela will also be endorsed by the director of the Albert Schweitzer Institute of Nobel Peace prize fame. I remember Jannie Fourie’s words as we’d sat around the fire four days ago. “Surely your Outside Edge expedition should include the old Portuguese Gulf of Guinea islands of Sao Tome and Principe. After all they’re linked to Africa by a volcanic pipe that runs out across the Gulf from Mount Cameroon.” I look out across the Atlantic – it’s an interesting thought, isn’t it? The journey to Lobito, Angola
It’s Annelie Muller’s birthday, a boeremeisie from the Oos-Kaap, it’s her first expedition. She’s doing great, learning to drive the Landies and live in the bush – not always easy, pitch camp, strike camp – move, move, move forever up the coast. It seems timeless and endless. The sun is up, Renoster coffee on the boil and for breakfast pawpaw and big fat yellow bananas – our first fresh fruit in weeks. We sing “Happy birthday”. Hunting dogs bark hysterically. Small figures in the distance, a panga comes down, chop, chop, chop. The hunter lifts a dark shape into the air – probably a little grey Duiker or maybe an antbear. Down from our hilltop camp we dodge the wag-’n-bietjie bushes and knyp our buttocks hoping there are no unexploded landmines about. Can’t believe it, Lobito and straight into the arms of
a Shoprite supermarket and the chance for Mashozi to stock up.
Car guards with AK’s, we’ve hit civilisation. Oil
and diamond revenues trickling south but still a great divide
between rich and poor, mud shacks on the hills, mansions on the
beach. A dude in a blue Porche Boxter wheelspins into the car
park. The hood goes up electronically – not the ideal car
for dodging the serious pot holes but great I am sure for keeping
the ego intact. Lobito established by the Portuguese in 1843 is
still a grand place – a silver coloured mermaid statue in
the bay, a roundabout centred with a high and dry fishing boat
called Zaire and a thatched restaurant aptly named Zulu –
great for us gang from KZN. A peri-peri flat chicken birthday
lunch for Annelie and a homemade birthday card decorated with
pressed flowers and the words: “Anna what better way of
celebrating your birthday than living on the edge.” The
lunch drags on. “Camp here next to the restaurant,”
says Mario. “How’s the crime,” I ask. “Was
terrible, but then the chief of police decided to close the jails
and open the graveyards, now things are quiet,” and so we
camp on the beach of the restaurant Zulu. We shampoo our hair in the warm ocean, this is not the cold south Atlantic we know from the Cape of Good Hope and the Skeleton Coast. Driving through the traffic out of Lobito, markets, mopeds, blue and white minibus taxis, stray dogs dodging overloaded trucks, people friendly. After 30 years of war one feels that there is hope. We pull off onto a side road to make brunch amongst bombed out buildings pock marked with bullet holes and UNITA graffiti. Chinese road builders come to chat and photograph the expedition. They’re intrigued by the flag decals of the 33 countries that run the length of the Land Rovers. “Aah! It’s a long load, all way lound Aflica,” says John, a little Chinaman with a toothy grin who delightfully transposes his l’s and r’s. “Good Chinese load ahead, vely good.” But we sit in the snake of a cue, a roadwork’s truck behind us plays roud music, Suki yaki amongst the baobabs and a two hour wait. Just south of Luanda we set up an expedition base camp at Bruce Bennett’s Cuanza River Lodge – a great bunch of South Africans and the best place to stay if you don’t want to get caught up in the mayhem of the city. Assisted by Bruce and using our Yamaha powered Gemini inflatables we distribute PermaNet®s to isolated communities living in the mangrove swamps. Local fishermen in their dugouts offer us sweet palm wine from a glass jam jar. The Gemini inflatables don’t miss a beat as ducking our heads we take narrow channels between mangroves and raffia palms. Across the river is the Quicama National Park, “got eaten during the war,” we were told. “Elephant, buffalo, hippo – the lot gunned down and transported in military helicopters to a fishing trawler off shore where the carcasses were blast frozen and sold as bush meat up the coast.” Fortunately the baobabs and mangroves remain. The chaos of Luanda We set up a malaria prevention day in the heart of Luanda. Mums and babies at a clinic – life saving PermaNet®s for all and even some live theatre acting out the dangers of not sleeping under a PermaNet®. It’s a great success and is covered by local TV, press and radio. Back into the city words can’t explain the grid locked bumper to bumper to bumper traffic. A city designed to house 750 000, now home to over 5 million who’d run from the war. Litter and poverty living alongside the incredible wealth from diamonds and oil, shining black Hummers overloaded with chrome and spotlights. But there is a buzz in the city, sexy girls in jeans and jewellery, night clubs and bars, the feeling of Rio de Janeiro and Brazil, linked to Angola by the slave trade. The Bay of Wrecks North of Luanda the booming sound of waves drumming against the rusty hulls – a ships graveyard, we can’t believe it. Fishing vessels, cargo ships and oil tankers, the broken bones of vessels with great names like Karl Marx and Antonio. It’s as if an angry giant has picked them up and thrown them down all together in the bay. We camp beneath the red and white hull of the ship Lundoge – her rusted derricks sticking into the starlit sky. The panga, cog and star of the Angolan flag on her funnel. The smoke from our driftwood fire stings our eyes. Bruce braais peri-peri chicken necks. A restless night in the rooftop tent. The booming gong sound of waves on metal, seafarers’ ghosts, shattered dreams and broken ships – the distant doef-doef of Friday night disco music carried on the South Westerly. The lights of Luanda in the distance, the thin silver sliver of the moon above the Bay of Wrecks. The Road to Soyo and the mouth of the Congo It’s a road to hell, wrecked trucks and potholes so deep that sometimes you need low range to tackle them, catching your tow hitch as you accelerate out the other side. For fear of landmines camping, shitting and eating on narrow tracks or deserted quarries. At Ambriz interrogations by the navy, the administrator and the police end with us finally being allowed to camp on the beach on an old disused Portuguese tennis court – three love to the expedition. At Soyo we are looked after by a South African de-mining outfit. Pieter Kok and Braam Rossouw head up the unit – great guys whose teams have risked their lives in Mozambique, the Sudan, Eritrea, Ethiopia, Bosnia and now Angola – they invite us for a ware Suid-Afrikaanse braai. Huge Brazilian chunks of beef on an open fire – we tap some Captain Morgan from where it lives in the Land Rover water tank. I sit next to a man with laughing eyes and a stubbled face burnt brown by the tropics. “Sure it’s dangerous,” he says. “But I am putting my daughter through a LLB at university – it will cost R247 000 and if lifting mines is going to pay for it, so be it – would you like a brandy? How the hell are you going to get over the Congo River,” he asks. There is no bridge and its 26km across to Banana in the DRC. “You will have to be careful,” he says. “This place is bristling with military security because of the oil wells.” I look across the fire and give my son Ross a wink. Somehow we will have to make a plan. That’s the nature of following the outside edge. Nervous as all hell In 1482 the Portuguese naval captain Diogo Cão erected
a stone cross at Ponta de Padrão at the mouth of the Congo.
This in time led to great suffering as hundreds of thousands of
slaves were exported along with ivory and rubber. But times have
changed and in the late afternoon we sit at the base of a replica
of this cross whilst Eduardo the community leader endorses the
expedition Scroll of Peace and Goodwill, alongside messages from
Nobel laureates Archbishop Desmond Tutu and Nelson Mandela. As
the sun sets mums and babies gather around the expedition Gemini
inflatable for a malaria education session and live saving PermaNet®s. Next day 83 men manhandled our three Landies onto a leaking
wooden barge called the Tumi Mi Tangwa. She trades barrels of
fuel from Angola for hardwood planks from the forests of the Congo.
“Quickly the winch cable!” screams Ross as one of
the boarding planks snap with a crack like a rifle shot and it’s
only the winch that saves the Landie, the one that’s been
sponsored by 600 school children from Centurus Colleges, from
ending up in the drink. The slow sweat and humidity of the Congo
River burns down on us as the third Land Rover Defender, amidst
shouting and screaming and organised chaos, is finally loaded.
Two rusty antique 40HP Yamaha outboards, one without a tiller
arm, the other with new spark plugs from our toolkit push us slowly
out from the south bank of the Congo. We’ve taken the precaution
of tying one of our Gemini inflatables alongside and bolted to
the transom is our 30HP expedition Yamaha ready and running. In
our top pockets we have money and passports. If a storm comes
up the overloaded barge will roll and the expedition Land Rovers
will drown – we’re shitting ourselves. Jeez! She rolls like a cork in a bathtub each time a swell comes
in from the Atlantic. It seems to be made worst by the Landies’
independent suspensions as they rock with the motion. Pigmy roadblock Thick green equatorial forest, fan palms, tree ferns and palmnut vultures. Commotion on the red dust road. Pigmies in masks, their entire bodies covered in layers of dry banana leaves – no arms or legs or head – just mask and leaves, little grunting noises. People at the roadside singing and jolling, ten dollars to pass – it’s the custom. Plastic chairs and tables under palm thatch. Primus beer in thick brown bottles – we shake hands with the secretary of the village, Captain Morgan is decanted from the tank into two big plastic mugs. We dance and sing – we’ve survived the river. No-man’s-land We’re trying to reach Cabinda. The boom is down. DRC immigration officials are having a shouting match. We’re surrounded by litter, crows and humidity. We give out PermaNet®s to smiling mums with babies on their backs busy climbing on to an old military truck. The men stop their arguing – now they want nets. They’re for mothers with children we explain. The sun sinks in an orange ball over the Atlantic. It’s better at night. The decayed buildings, filth and litter fade into darkness and all you have is a circle of faces around the fire and the soft glow of the moon. Next morning the vultures want money or they will search the Landies piece by piece. Ross is outraged and blows his top in Swahili. “Last night we were raffiki’s, friends. We shared our fire and food with you. You saw us unpacking the vehicles, our food and equipment. You shared rum from our tank, we gave pregnant mums and children PermaNet®s and NOW! you want to search us? We don’t bribe. You know we are a humanitarian expedition. The head of immigration has endorsed the Scroll of Peace and Goodwill we are carrying around Africa – you’ve read the goodwill messages from Archbishop Desmond Tutu and Nelson Mandela.” The border guards breaks into a smile, lift the boom and shouts “Kwaherri – safari njema, goodbye and a good journey.” Border crossings are all drama – each one like a game of chess. If you ever get to this spot you’ll know it’s the backside of the world. We sit with the flies and the litter. Six local piss cats watch a French soap opera at full volume – the speakers distorted like hell. “Go back to Muanda, back to the DRC, get a visa from the Cabinda consul,” says an arrogant little bloke in a red t-shirt. “But,” we stutter. “Immigration in Soyo told us we would be okay with our existing Angolan visas.” The finger comes out. “You go back to Muanda.” So we’re in bloody no-man’s-land, stamped out of the DRC, but no entrada into Angola, Cabinda. Soldiers with AK’s everywhere protecting the oil riches. Finally we are able to buy visas at 78 USD each and 19 ½ hours and a hundred meters later, the boom at Posto Fronteiro at Yema, gateway to Cabinda, is lifted. It’s no bloody wonder that not too many people are doing what we do. Fortunately the ordinary people we come across are absolutely delightful, but oh my god, when border officials are bad, they’re fukin bad. Cabinda Cabinda is a hilly with big trees, lots of military, oil wells, cinnamon brown surf washed north from the mouth of the Congo, small wooden houses with rust coloured corrugated iron verandas, music booming from bars. Two American oil workers with big beers in their hands shout “Hey, we love you man!” as north of Cabinda city we drive past the beach bar at Cacongo where the forest lies in a long crumbling hardwood jetty and big dugout canoes wait for the surf to flatten. We meet Donna Vanda, plump and smiling in a bright yellow blouse, black pants and gold handbag. Donna joins us for a peri-peri feast at the bar restaurant Barracão. Once again she reminds me of the people of distant Brazil, the music, the dancing and the food – the slaves that took this culture across the Atlantic, the Portuguese caravels that took peri-peri to Europe and South America. We call for water, the chilli is hot, Donna laughs and sweats. This is the best peri-peri in Angola she says – you have to find the tiny gindungu pequeno chillies, the small ones – you buy them for 50 Kwanzas a bunch in the market. We grind them in a mortar and pestle she says, then add garlic and onion, salt, lemon and olive oil. We order steak and flat chicken served with thin slices of green tomato and chips – the whole spread with gindungu peri-peri. Early missionaries to the Congo region were horrified by the polygamy they found here. They thought it was the spices in the African food that provoked this dreadful practice – we find our peri-peri feast a delightful way to celebrate our crossing of Cabinda. Malaria is bad here. We stop at the Centro du Saudi, the small clinic in Massabi to give out PermaNet®s. There’s a mama on a quinine drip and a baby seriously ill with malaria. At least they now have nets and thanks to the expedition’s Right to Sight campaign seven poor sighted people in Massabi now have spectacles – Congo Brazzaville here we come.
The last time we’ve spoke to Kingsley Holgate and the Africa Outside Edge team they’ve reach the wreck site of the Dunedin Star on the Skeleton Coast of Namibia. We catch up with them again via satellite phone as they set up camp in a dry river bed. “Yes! we’ve survived the Skeleton Coast. It was foot
flat to avoid getting stuck and zigzagging around rocks and incoming
waves. Albatross swooped and dived in front of the Landies, seals
wobbled and flapped into the ocean ghost crabs gawked in amazement
at our passing convoy. This is the nature of the outside edge
of Africa. To stay true to the objective to circumnavigate Africa around the outside edge the expedition must follow the coast. Now Angola and the north bank of the Kunene is only 600 metres away but there’s no way of getting the Landies across the fast flowing river mouth, so it’s a 12 day detour through Kaokaland to get back to the river at Ruacana, cross into Angola and then work all the way back to the north bank of the Kunene. We speak to Kingsley again this time from the expedition camp below the Ruacana Falls… “We’ve really been fortunate to have been able to complete the entire coast of Namibia”, he says - it’s been a special privilege made possible by unique permissions from the Namibian Ministry of Environment and Tourism, NAMDEP diamond mines and Wilderness Safaris. We used the river beds of the Hoarusib and Khumib to detour out of the Skeleton Coast. Fresh water, makalali palms and ancient omborombonga leadwood trees. Traditional Himba girls endorsed the expedition Scroll of Peace and Goodwill (the same one as signed by Madiba) with a simple red ochred handprint and we spent hours with the desert elephants of the Horausib. At a thatch and mopanie geologist camp we we’re hosted by Charles Zandberg, geologist, prospector, poet, author, musician and crazy adventurer (he has even translated Bob Dylan into Damara). With his massive beard and lion mane of hair he is a bit of a Kingsley Holgate look alike. “Bakgat – it’s bakgat to meet you. I’ve had great fun at your expense,” he laughs. “Some blokes the other day kept calling me Kingsley and the more I told them I wasn’t you the more they insisted on buying me Captain Morgans in the bar.” And then a whole bottle appeared. “Bakgat, it’s good to meet you at last”. That night around the fire Himba tribes people danced in the dust and we distributed PermaNet®s to mums with babies – after all they are the most vulnerable. At Swartbooisdrift where the Dorslandtrekkers crossed the river we rolled out our bedrolls under the stars – what a treat after the desolate windblown coast – now it’s over and we’re back at the Kunene River ready to cross into Angola. War torn Angola – what a pleasant surprise “They will make you unload everything, search all your vehicles,” said the pessimists, “but we were welcomed with open arms. The Scroll of Peace and Goodwill was endorsed by customs and immigration and two hours later our convoy rolled into Angola. Sure it takes time, but on journeys like this we need to remember that whilst the Swiss developed the clock, it’s good old Mamma Africa that owns the time. That night they came barefoot in the dark, shouting the whooping cries of a hyena to call the others to our campsite at the base of a rocky knoll – with them they brought a goat to be slaughtered. The Himba had arrived to join us around the campfire but this time with a difference, through our interpreter we could speak to their chief in Portuguese. A dear little man with a twinkle in his eye, his prized possession was his snuff container with silver spoon. Next morning I interviewed Molisani Mohomba around the fire. It went like this: Q: How was it during the war? Q: How strong are your traditions? Q: And where do you go to after death? Q: If there is anything on earth you would wish for,
what would it be?
Interview with Kingsley Hi, Kingsley, how are you surviving? I know you’ve survived the Skeleton Coast all the
way up to the Cunene. Did you get to the north bank in Angola? Where are you now? Did you travel up the beach from the mouth of the Cunene? How is Angola thus far? And the Landies? How’s the expedition team? And how is the humanitarian side of the adventure going? And the sponsors, how are they treating you? Kingsley Holgate supported expedition reaches Dunedin Star wreck site
Clockwise around the outside edge of Africa through 33 countries – saving lives through malaria prevention, a Teaching on the Edge literacy campaign and spectacles for the poor sighted in a Right to Sight programme. Yes, it’s another Kingsley Holgate led humanitarian expedition using adventure to improve and save lives in Africa. Via Evolution Communication we get the latest news from the Greybeard himself. “We can’t believe that it’s really a month since 347 Landies escorted us out from the Cape of Good Hope to commence this crazy circumnavigation of Africa,” shouts Kingsley into the satellite phone from the Skeleton Coast. “Maybe we should have started with the East Coast instead of the West – this Skeleton Coast is not for the faint hearted. No wonder that early mariners called it the Coast of Death. Anyway, here we are, four Landies overloaded with inflatable boats and supplies, tyres down to one bar for the sand. We’re nine expedition members plus the Skeleton Coast game warden, Alwyn Engelbrecht, and wonderful characters Eric and Tanja Reinhardt, Kaokoland experts from Wilderness Safaris. It’s bloody freezing, the cold South Atlantic is upside down, the South Westerly is howling and we’re sitting huddled around a fire waiting for low tide so that we can push North up the beach to the Kunene River mouth. This 2 400 km coast of Namibia has provided an incredible challenge, extremely tough on Landies and crew. We’ve crossed the desolate Sperrgebiet – the forbidden diamond coast in the South and the great sand ocean of the ancient Namib, sliding the overloaded Landies down 100 metre dune slip faces, then foot flat clawing our way up the crest of the next, Atlantic on the left desert on the right. Shipwrecks, seals, jackals and brown hyena and the soo-oop-wa, the constant South Westerly that blows sand into your eyes, nose and food and in a moment covers up your tracks. But if you think we’ve got it tough how about the castaways from the Dunedin Star wrecked on the 30th November 1942 close to where we are now camped. As if being a passenger on an unescorted merchantman sailing U-Boat infested waters had not been enough, they had then been forced to brave the surf of the infamous Skeleton Coast. By the end of that day 63 people, including 8 women, 3 babies in arms and some elderly men were left cold and wet on this desolate beach. The ship’s motorized life boat lay high and dry and 500 metres away in the surf 43 crew were left marooned on the wreck of the Dunedin Star that slowly but surely was being battered to pieces by the Atlantic. Fortunately they got rescued by a passing ship but the castaways had to endure 4 weeks of Skeleton Coast hell. Using bits of driftwood they wrote messages in the sand and Captain Naudé, a dapper David Niven look-alike flying a 1942 twin engined Ventura bomber dropped car tubes of water and supplies from the sky. 17-year old Annabel Tailor wrote “face cream” in big letters, he waggled his wings in acknowledgement. Later in an attempt to rescue the women and children the brave pilot landed on a nearby saltpan – but then broke through the crust so adding a stranded bomber and crew to the Dunedin disaster. Much later in the saga Captain Naude repaired her and flew out but crashed into the surf. On the beach we find pieces of scattered fuselage, a tyre, some rusted landing gear and one of the 18 cylinder radial engines. Further south we had come across the mast of a wrecked tug – The Sir Charles Elliot sticking out of the sea and nearby on the shore the lonely grave of Mattias Koraseb, drowned whilst swimming a rescue line to shore. Acting on a SOS from the Dunedin Star the coal burning tug had been sent to assist but it too had become part of the Dunedin Star disaster. In the mean time a police convoy of 18 men in two wheel drive
1940’s petrol driven Chevrolet trucks were pushing, pulling
and digging its way up the Skeleton Coast to reach the castaways.
At the castaways camp we find bits of canvas and rope, old nails
and planks, sand blasted bottles and rusty cans of British Army
issue bully beef. How the castaways must have struggled. The eyes
of the youngest, 13 month old Sidney had become so gummed up with
sand that they feared he might loose his sight. Meanwhile by some
miracle in the dry Khumib River, the relief convoy of trucks came
upon the stranded survivors of the Sir Charles Elliot tug boat,
they loaded them up and pushed north to finally rescue the Dunedin
Star castaways.
Kunene or Bust Three days later… another satellite report from Kingsley.
Foot flat to avoid getting stuck and zigzagging around rocks and
incoming waves. Albatross swoop and dive in front of the Landies,
seals wobble and flaps into the ocean ghost crabs gawk in amazement
at our passing convoy. This is the nature of the outside edge.
Angola here we come To stay true to circumnavigate Africa around the outside edge the Land Rover supported expedition must where ever possible follow the coast. Now Angola and the north bank of the Kunene is only a kilometre away but there’s no way of getting the Landies across the fast flowing river mouth, so it’s a 12 day detour through Kaokaland to get back to the river at Ruacana, cross into Angola and then work all the way back to the north bank of the Kunene. We speak to Kingsley again this time from the expedition camp below the Ruacana Falls…We’ve really been fortunate to have been able to complete the entire coast of Namibia - it’s been a special privilege made possible by unique permissions from the Namibian Ministry of Environment and Tourism, NAMDEP diamond mines and Wilderness Safaris. We used the river beds of the Hoarusib and Khumib to detour out of the Skeleton Coast. Fresh water, makalali palms and ancient omborombonga leadwood trees. Traditional Himba girls endorsed the expedition Scroll of Peace and Goodwill with a simple red ochred handprint and we spent hours with the desert elephants of the Hoarusib, Himba tribes people danced in the dust and we distributed PermaNet®s to mums with babies – they are the most vulnerable. We roll out our bedrolls under the stars – what a treat after the desolate windblown coast – now it’s over and we’re back at the Kunene River ready to cross into Angola. Will keep you posted. Humanitarian Expedition Reaches Walvis Bay
The Africa Outside Edge expedition’s objectives are clear, its to circumnavigate Africa in a clockwise direction by Land Rover and inflatable boats and at the same time to improve and save lives through adventure. Up to a few weeks ago these were just words but now it’s for real. The filing of the Zulu calabash and the launch of the expedition from the Cape of Good Hope with a world record 347 Land Rovers escorting us out of the Mother City has set the scene for one of the most challenging expeditions of our lives. With Bloubergstrand, Langebaan and Lamberts Bay behind us we soon got into the real adventure using farm and diamond mining tracks to take us North into the Namaqualand strandveld. As part of the humanitarian adventure we have been able to distribute mobile libraries to remote schools. This initiative is aptly called “Teaching on the Edge”. There’s also a “Right to Sight” programme in which readers are distributed to the poor sighted and the big one of course is the One Net One Life campaign in which tens of thousands of long lasting nets will be distributed to pregnant mothers and to children in remote areas where there are no regular health authorities. This malaria prevention work will only begin once the expedition reaches Angola. For now the challenge has been the “Teaching on the Edge” programme and then into the wildernis of the Sperrgebiet, the forbidden coast, only made possible special permissions from De Beers and the Namibian ministry of Environment and Tourism. It’s been an unbelievable privilege, old German diamond mining ghost towns, wrecks in the mist, tens and thousands of sea birds and Cape Fur seals. Sliding the overloaded expedition Landies down the slip faces of some of the highest dunes in the world then clawing our way, sometimes digging, pushing and winching and always with engines screaming to the summit of the next one – then sliding down to the cold South Atlantic again, hugging the dunes the waves washing against the tyres and then to hep things along an East wind sandstorm. What a great adventure, black backed jackals around the fire at night, brown hyena feeding on Cape Fur seal pups, more whale bones and shipwrecks, Gemsbok in the desert and finally the 1915 lighthouse at Pelican point now its time for a hot shower – thanks again for all the support.
The next challenge is to reach the Kunene by following the Skeleton Coast – then its Angola – will keep you posted.
South African humanitarian expedition departs
The Cape Peninsula winter rains had come early but the miserable conditions failed to dampen the spirit of hundreds of Land Rover owners who now dressed in an array of bush jackets, balaclavas and gumboots, danced in the mud in a vast paddock at De Grendel wine estate near Milnerton. Adventurers had travelled all the way from Namibia, Gauteng, the Eastern Cape and Durbs. Earlier that week an email had been sent out – it read “Dear friends in adventure, we’re expecting lousy weather but Land Rover owners aren’t whoosies – see you as planned.” Now enamel mugs of the Captain’s rum are raised in a victory salute – it had been an incredible day as bumper to bumper a record breaking 347 Landies of every shape, colour and vintage had braved the weather to join the longest humanitarian Land Rover convoy ever to leave from the Cape of Good Hope. In the week of Africa Malaria Day this has been a massive act of solidarity in the fight against malaria. Nobel Prize laureates Archbishop Desmond Tutu and Madiba himself, together with thousands of well-wishers have endorsed a Scroll of Peace and Goodwill in support of malaria prevention that the expedition is now setting off to carry around the outside edge of Africa. That morning at the Cape of Good Hope media cameras flashed as Kingsley Holgate, one of Africa’s best known adventurers, with his trousers rolled up to his knees filled a decorated Zulu calabash with cold South Atlantic seawater. “It’s fitting that we launch our yearlong clockwise circumnavigation of the African continent from this – the most South Westerly point of the continent,” explained the Greybeard of African adventure as he held up the calabash for all to see. Kingsley and his family team are off again on what he calls “their greatest humanitarian adventure ever.” Linked to a One Net One Life campaign in support of malaria prevention this Africa Outside Edge expedition will distribute tens of thousands of life saving PermaNet®s to pregnant mothers and children under the age of five. The shocking statistic is that for every minute of every day and night two babies die from the bloodsucking bite of the female anopheles mosquito. It’s a killer disease that affects 3.5 million Africans annually – killing more people than HIV/Aids. “Thanks for helping make a difference and showing that you care for Africa,” shouts Kingsley through a megaphone as he competes with the roar of the waves, shrieking seagulls and distant cracks of thunder and lightning. Other humanitarian efforts linked to the expedition are a Right to Sight programme in which “readers” are distributed to the poor sighted in remote villages and there’s an innovative Centurus Colleges / Rotary initiative called Teaching on the Edge in which hundreds of mobile libraries will be distributed to needy schools. For a moment the sun peeps through the grey storm clouds as South African National Parks officials Gavin Bell and Christa Stringer hand over to the expedition three symbolic Cape Agulhas stones and a conservation scroll tied with a thin piece of kelp. A stone will be dropped and another picked up at the most Westerly, Northerly and Easterly points of the continent. If the expedition survives, these stones together with the Zulu calabash of seawater will be brought back to the Cape of Good Hope in a year’s time to coincide with Africa Malaria Day, 25th April 2008. “Sure we’re nervous,” said Kingsley standing
next to his Land Rover with the colourful flags of 33 African
countries decaled on the side. “Tomorrow we’re on
our own – three Landies and two big Gemini inflatable boats
ready to circumnavigate Africa. We know it will be tough but there
seems to be a window of opportunity for us – peace has come
to Angola, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Liberia and Sierra
Leone. It’s now possible to cross Algeria and Libya, but
how will we round the Horn of Africa – I know that from
Djibouti we can get to Berbera in Somaliland and we will have
to suss it out from there. But with all this incredible goodwill
behind us and great sponsor partners how could we possibly fail.
British Airways and Grindrod, the Durban based shipping and logistics
company, are assisting with logistics and funding and after a
campfire gathering with the Nedbank vehicle and asset finance
team they are putting up the bucks for diesel. We’ve got
tough Cooper Tires, Melvill and Moon seat covers to soak up the
sweat and the farts and Central African Gold is supporting a massive
malaria prevention campaign in Ghana and Mali. Traditionally we’ve
sent home expedition messages from remote mission and trading
stations or a note with a friend scribbled on an old piece of
soapbox carton, but this time thanks to Evolution communications
in Cape Town we are larnies and will be able to communicate with
you through state of the art satellite equipment. In Nigeria Protea
Hotels and Nando’s are collecting life saving PermaNet®s
ahead of our arrival. Following the edge won’t be easy and
where there are no roads or tracks we will use the ducks and proven
Garmin navigational equipment. There are some wonderful challenges
ahead – the ancient Namib’s Skeleton Coast, the Congo,
Niger, Nile and Zambezi rivers, the equatorial jungles of West
Africa, the Sahara – largest dessert of them all, the islands
of Sao Tomé, the Dahlak and Lamu archipelagos, the Quirimbas,
Zanzibar and Mafia – it all promises to be a wonderfully
exciting odyssey, using adventure to improve and save lives –
we will keep you posted. 25/4/2007 Africa - The Outside Edge Expedition
Kingsley Holgate, the Greybeard of African adventure and his family team are off again, armed with a Scroll of Peace and Goodwill endorsed by Nobel Peace Prize Laureate Mr. Nelson Mandela and a decorated Zulu calabash which will be filled with seawater from the Cape of Good Hope. The expedition is called Africa – The Outside Edge – a yearlong clockwise circumnavigation of the continent through 33 countries by Land Rovers and inflatable boats. The expedition will be linked to a USAID supported humanitarian campaign called One Net One Life in which tens of thousands of PermaNet®s will be distributed to pregnant mothers and to children under the age of five in remote high risk malaria areas around the outside edge of Africa – so once again saving and improving lives through adventure. The expedition will be officially launched to
the media in Cape Town on Wednesday April 25th - Africa Malaria
Day, and on Friday the 27th, in an act of solidarity in the fight
against malaria, the longest Land Rover humanitarian convoy ever,
will escort the expedition out of the Mother City. |
The
Gold Coast of Ghana is peppered with a chain of ancient European
built forts and castles with approximately 80 fortifications of
different types having been built over 300 years. First came the
Portuguese followed by other great sea powers like the Dutch,
Danes and the British – all competing for their share of
gold, slaves, ivory and trade. We find forts and castles with
names like Christiansborg, Good Hope, Forts Amsterdam, William,
Orange and St. Anthony and have great success in using these historic
places as distribution points for the One Net One Life malaria
prevention campaign that is attached to the expedition. Each pregnant
mum and those with children under the age of five gets a stamped
Africa Outside Edge ticket which they exchange for a life saving
PermaNet®. It's a great humanist turn about being able to do
humanitarian work in the same courtyards and on the same steps
from which tens of thousands of slaves were exported to the new
world, part of the horrific trade in human flesh. J.K.W. Kwaw,
the officer in charge of the world heritage site Elmina Castle,
build by the Portuguese in 1482 (10 years before Columbus discovered
America) adds this note to the Mandela scroll: "Elmina Castle,
the first of so many European settlements on our coastline is
proud to receive the One Net One Life expedition. Malaria, the
scourge of sub-Saharan Africa ought to be eradicated completely.
Your expedition is an outstanding example of human endeavour."
The
fishing harbour at Elmina is a riot of colourful hand built fishing
pirogues with biblical names like “God Bless” and
“Fish with Jesus”. The base of these boats is a single
dugout tree trunk up to 25m long and close to 2m at the beam.
Most use 40 HP Yamaha’s and fly the flags of their choice.
We use one to explore the coast – it’s a wonderful
change from being in the Land Rovers. The fishermen are noisy
and boisterous. We nearly turn turtle in the surf and then we’re
through out into the Atlantic. Elmina Castle and Fort St. Jago
in the distance. But it is not always easy. The humidity is as
thick as golden syrup and we have to doge the constant rain storms
– back in the Landies we are on our way to the Ivory Coast
and have been warned about security and armed roadblocks. Its
back into Francophone Africa – I know we’ll miss the
friendly hello’s of English speaking Ghana. 
Ross
is recovering but is still shaky on his pins. We’re in the
voodoo python temple at Ouidah in Benin – pythons draped
around our necks and then to the sacred forest of Kpasse –
we’ve come here to learn more about voodoo. I reach up and
touch the tree which the 14th Century chief Kpasse turned himself
into to hide from his enemies. Thousands of fruit bats fly overhead.
Voodoo statues are everywhere. There’s a fertility god with
a massive erect penis, there’s a snake that’s eating
himself, and forest men bring us a live python. There’s
a voodoo god of protection, thunder and lightning, there’s
the god of metal and the god of soil. To the accompaniment of
drums, singing and dancing his majesty the voodoo king Mito Daho
Mindji Kpassenon writes these words in the expedition Scroll of
Peace and Goodwill in support of malaria prevention: “I
do appreciate what you are doing for peace and malaria. We voodoo
people thank you for this great work.” There’s a ceremony
in our honour. The king looks at us through the fringe of tassels
that hang from his wide brimmed embroidered hat. An aide twirls
a large umbrella decorated with voodoo symbols above his majesty’s
head, another holds a long handled golden bladed spear. There’s
frenetic drumming and dancing and in a nearby hut chickens are
sacrificed. Malaria is rife here and later that afternoon still
in the sacred forest we distribute life saving PermaNet®s to
pregnant mums and mums with little children – it’s
what we’ve come to do.
The
voodoo fetish markets of Benin and Togo are a hell of an experience.
Dried lizards and chameleons, dogs heads elephant feet, dead owls,
porcupine quills, sititunga hooves, baboon and hyena skulls, dried
cats’ heads and bits of leopard skin. The voodoo medicine
man chants incantations and rattles shells. Incense burns and
there’s the smell of rotting flesh from the 10’s of
1000’s of bits of skin, bone and hair that adorn the fetish
display tables outside. There’s powerful muthi here and
customers come from afar a field as Gabon, the DRC, Congo Brazzaville,
Ghana and Nigeria. Today’s customer is from Afrique du Sud,
he’s got a great grey bushy beard and with a bunch of ‘crazies’
is following the outside edge of Africa in Land Rovers and inflatable
boats – money changes hands, a small item is placed in an
empty tortoise shell. Three times the Beard must repeat his name
as each time he holds the tortoise shell to his chest. Kingsley,
Kingsley, Kingsley he says softly, and remember, says the voodoo
man, you must give it three drops of water a year, just a little
through the hole in the top of his head, and once a year a cigarette
to puff through the small hole that serves a mouth. The white
chalk dusted, clay sculptured little voodoo protection fetish
is to protect the owner’s home or possessions against theft.
Later observers are amazed to find it glued to the dashboard of
a Land Rover that’s decorated with the 33 countries of the
flags that make up the outside edge of Africa – “Let’s
hope it work” says The Beard. 
Greetings
from Nigeria – what a wonderful surprise as we are met at
the Cameroun Nigeria border by a contingent from British Airways
Nigeria, who, with Grindrod Limited and other caring humanitarian
partners have also joined us in the fight against malaria. The
welcome party also includes High Chief Edem Duke, president of
the Federation of National Tourism Associations. Instantly perceptions
of Nigeria change – this is the joy of travel. Imagine the
situation: here we are trousers rolled up, barefoot and covered
in mud – mud in our hair, mud between our toes. The Nigerians
all smartly dressed, cameras rolling. They produce a bottle of
French “bubbly”, there’s a toast all round –
WELCOME TO NIGERIA – they zap us through customs and immigration.
The warmth and friendliness of the people of Cross River State
is infectious. Traditional dancers line the road into Nigeria.
The president of the village produces a basin of water and washes
our feet. Immediately we are off to distribute PermaNet®s to
mums with babies, eye glasses to the poor sighted and Centurus
Colleges mobile libraries to schools, more speeches and dancers
and a detour inland to the Ebudu Cattle Ranch – it’s
high up in the mountains along the Cameroun border. We take the
Landies to the top, the rest of the delegation including little
6 year old Tristan Kingsley Holgate (he’s become the expedition
mascot) take the cable car – one of the longest in the world.
Then
it’s down to the ancient city of Calabar by police escort.
The governor of Cross River State and the Royal House endorse
the expedition Scroll of Peace and Goodwill we are carrying around
the outside edge of Africa. Sirens screaming, police armed with
automatics take us on a detour around Port Harcourt where to avoid
more kidnapping of foreigners the military have taken hold of
the city and then its on to Lagos where nothing, NOTHING can prepare
one for the vast chaotic congested mass of people and vehicles
that make up the nightmare of trying to travel the streets of
the most populous city on the Outside Edge of Africa. We pick
up a newspaper – this is what the local press has got to
say:
In
a campaign called “Teaching on the Edge” the expedition
had distributed 22 mobile libraries to remote schools up the West
Coast of South Africa, and in Namibia around Luderitz, Walvis
Bay and Ruacana. The One Net One Life malaria prevention campaign
in which PermaNet®s are distributed to pregnant mothers and
to children under the age of five is in full swing as is the Right
to Sight programme in which spectacles are given to the poor sighted.
In Angola thousands of pencils, pens and exercise books have been
distributed to remote bush schools. At Centro de Saude Boavista,
a downtown clinic in the centre of Luanda PermaNet®s were distributed
to pregnant mums and babies. This very successful event went out
on local radio, TV and press, the story of a South African led
expedition caring for the people of Africa. At Ponta de Padrao
at the mouth of the Congo where Diogo Cao first erected a stone
cross in 1482 we distributed PermaNet®s to pregnant mums with
babies and continued to do so as we made our way across the Democratic
Republic of the Congo, Cabinda and Congo Brazzaville. In Gabon
with the help of the Wildlife Conservation Society we used theatre
and costuming to add a conservation message to our Teaching on
the Edge programme. At the Albert Schweitzer institute in Lambarene
Prof Sadoo agrees that the best results that they’ve had
in preventing malaria have been through the distribution of PermaNet®s. We are on the right track. Working in the mud and rain in
Cameroun we distribute more nets, Teaching on the Edge material
and much needed spectacles to the poor sighted. In Nigeria we
distribute close to 10 000 life saving PermaNet®s, 6 mobile
libraries and 600 spectacles. 
So
Kingsley, have you made it over to the islands?
How
are the road conditions?
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