A 650-mile trip to Ovamboland in the wet season, January 1934

EVERYONE feels that there is a great fascination connected with the mission field; perhaps it is closely associated with the unconquered rawness of nature, and life does not easily become monotonous.

After being accustomed to see men harnessing and conquering the forces of nature, it came rather as a shock to find that nature can still take the upper hand and defy man. We did accomplish the trip to Ovamboland, but it was with the feeling that nature was still the ‘top dog’.At the beginning of the wet season, in November 1933, I left the Mission on about a month’s holiday, just after a little rain had fallen.The 230 miles (about 370 km) to the railhead took about 12 hours by car; the rail trip to the coast took about a day and a half.Soon after arrival at the coast the rains came in earnest.All the rivers in SWA, which I had so often said were only lines on the map, became roaring torrents, washing away trees, farms, and houses, and then battering these trees at the railway bridges until they were pounded to pieces.Miles and miles of line were washed away or under water.Telegraph lines came down, and all means of transport were cut off.Aeroplanes certainly did noble work, but they could not often land owing to the state of the ground, and so when I wished to return there seemed little hope of getting through.I had just made up my mind to try and get back to railhead any way I could when Mr Tietz arrived.He does the cartage from railhead at Tsumeb up to Ovamboland.The trip from Swakopmund, which he usually does in a couple of days, had taken nine days.The delay was chiefly due to having to wait for rivers to become passable.After a complete overhaul of the car we left Swakopmund on the evening of Jan.17th, expecting good going for the first 100 miles.For this country no doubt it was, but the road was so bumpy that one just sat, or rather re-sat, on the seat about 10 times a minute, until the cushion seemed to be pounded as hard as the wood underneath.About 10 p.m.the rain commenced, a slight haze came up, and the road became less and less easy to find, until just after midnight we lost it completely, and stopped for the night.There we sat, trying to sleep; pretty hopeless though.Morning came, and by taking our bearing from well-known peaks of mountains around, we soon made our way to Usakos, arriving about 8.30 a.m.on Jan.18th.So finished the first and easiest 100 miles, but between us and the town was the Kahn River, running too deep to cross and about 200 yards wide.Although much of the railway embankment had been washed away at one side of the bridge it had been repaired so we walked over into the town.We enquired if it was possible to get the car over by rail, but no engines were in the station.Everyone confidently asserted that the river dried up considerably each day, and no doubt we should be able to cross, with the aid of a lorry to tow us, before the afternoon was over.Arrangements were made for a lorry to assist us after lunch, so we stayed in the town and had a square meal.Then we off-loaded the car, covered up all openings into the engine and awaited the cable coming across the river.A number of native boys tried several times to get the cable across, each time the strong current washed it down stream and the boys with it.When at last it was across, it only reached halfway, but over the swift deep part.Tietz easily drove the car up to the cable, but the riverbed was quicksand, while the cable was being fastened to the car the car sank in the sand, the boy pulled in vain, there we stuck, just sinking deeper.For the last hour or so it had been overcast, a storm was expected, the lightning flashed and by the thunder we knew it was getting nearer; people told us that word had come that the river was coming down again, and there we were, stuck.Dozens of Natives tried to lift the car out of the water, and by holding one’s hand over the intake we managed to start the engine, and after a terrible struggle managed to get out backwards to where we started.The storm broke and it poured down, the river rose again, near us all was running water, so the car was moved back to higher ground and we made preparation for the night.We had a good fire and food but the rain came off and on.We spent a cramped and pretty sleepless night.Morning came and the engine seemed to have water in, so we tinkered about with it for some time.About 9 o’clock we heard a train coming along.The owner of a car which came the previous night had gone to the station for help.An engine was in and was sent over the bridge for his car which was loaded up on the truck; and Tietz decided to go over with it too.The car refused to start, but after further tinkering Tietz at last brought it to the line, and the men after a struggle managed to get it into the truck.Another car came up and that was soon put on, and we all chuffed over the bridge, the water still deep and fast The car was put in proper order, a stock of food laid in, and off we went towards Karibib.The road was heavy with drift sand but we soon covered the 20 miles to Karibib.The whole country was just tinged with green, the grass shooting up and the undergrowth sending out new leaves.Everything looked washed clean and fresh.We heard that if we rushed on we had a good chance of crossing the Etira River about 10 miles ahead.Behind us all was black with clouds and a new storm was coming up.On we went.Soon the trouble began.Many small rivers, or rather, large ditches, had to be crossed.They all looked dry and innocent, but actually there was generally about a foot of quicksand in the bottom, all sodden with water, and an incline of about 30 degrees to climb up on the far side.All kinds of methods were used to get the cars through, and we carried crude but effective equipment.The most useful things were three steel railway sleepers which, when put in the track of the car, would hold it up where the ground was soft.Then there was a block-and-tackle outfit, which we often had to use to heave the car when other methods failed, that is, if there was a suitable tree to anchor it to.We had many small jacks, and a great irrigation jack weighing about 200 pounds, which would lift the car bodily out of the mud so that the sleepers could be placed underneath.Then we had about 100 yards of steel cable which was used with the blocks or donkeys, suiting the length so that the donkeys would be on good earth while the car was in the heavy going.All the usual spades, shovels, bars and axes were continually used.About the middle of the afternoon we arrived at the Etira River, which was about 100 yards wide, knee deep, with a quicksand bottom.A car was by the river, having been waiting for three days for the water to go down.Across the river was a farm owned by two bachelors.We took off the load and carried it across, and then rushed the car at the river, but only got it in for a few yards before it stuck in the quick sand.By repeatedly lifting the car and putting sleepers below we crossed some 50 yards.The storm broke upon us when we were about halfway across, and the river was rising.In just over three hours we had the lorry across.It was short work then to tow the other two cars over with the lorry, but by the time the last car was over the river had risen considerably and half-an-hour later was a racing torrent.Everyone was wet through, hands blistered, and tired.The baggage was piled in a little cottage, the women made food and we changed to rather drier clothing.That night, besides all the baggage, twenty-two people managed to find room to squat down and sleep in the two small rooms.* The narrative continues on Monday.We did accomplish the trip to Ovamboland, but it was with the feeling that nature was still the ‘top dog’.At the beginning of the wet season, in November 1933, I left the Mission on about a month’s holiday, just after a little rain had fallen.The 230 miles (about 370 km) to the railhead took about 12 hours by car; the rail trip to the coast took about a day and a half.Soon after arrival at the coast the rains came in earnest.All the rivers in SWA, which I had so often sa
id were only lines on the map, became roaring torrents, washing away trees, farms, and houses, and then battering these trees at the railway bridges until they were pounded to pieces.Miles and miles of line were washed away or under water.Telegraph lines came down, and all means of transport were cut off.Aeroplanes certainly did noble work, but they could not often land owing to the state of the ground, and so when I wished to return there seemed little hope of getting through.I had just made up my mind to try and get back to railhead any way I could when Mr Tietz arrived.He does the cartage from railhead at Tsumeb up to Ovamboland.The trip from Swakopmund, which he usually does in a couple of days, had taken nine days.The delay was chiefly due to having to wait for rivers to become passable.After a complete overhaul of the car we left Swakopmund on the evening of Jan.17th, expecting good going for the first 100 miles.For this country no doubt it was, but the road was so bumpy that one just sat, or rather re-sat, on the seat about 10 times a minute, until the cushion seemed to be pounded as hard as the wood underneath.About 10 p.m.the rain commenced, a slight haze came up, and the road became less and less easy to find, until just after midnight we lost it completely, and stopped for the night.There we sat, trying to sleep; pretty hopeless though.Morning came, and by taking our bearing from well-known peaks of mountains around, we soon made our way to Usakos, arriving about 8.30 a.m.on Jan.18th.So finished the first and easiest 100 miles, but between us and the town was the Kahn River, running too deep to cross and about 200 yards wide.Although much of the railway embankment had been washed away at one side of the bridge it had been repaired so we walked over into the town.We enquired if it was possible to get the car over by rail, but no engines were in the station.Everyone confidently asserted that the river dried up considerably each day, and no doubt we should be able to cross, with the aid of a lorry to tow us, before the afternoon was over.Arrangements were made for a lorry to assist us after lunch, so we stayed in the town and had a square meal.Then we off-loaded the car, covered up all openings into the engine and awaited the cable coming across the river.A number of native boys tried several times to get the cable across, each time the strong current washed it down stream and the boys with it.When at last it was across, it only reached halfway, but over the swift deep part.Tietz easily drove the car up to the cable, but the riverbed was quicksand, while the cable was being fastened to the car the car sank in the sand, the boy pulled in vain, there we stuck, just sinking deeper.For the last hour or so it had been overcast, a storm was expected, the lightning flashed and by the thunder we knew it was getting nearer; people told us that word had come that the river was coming down again, and there we were, stuck.Dozens of Natives tried to lift the car out of the water, and by holding one’s hand over the intake we managed to start the engine, and after a terrible struggle managed to get out backwards to where we started.The storm broke and it poured down, the river rose again, near us all was running water, so the car was moved back to higher ground and we made preparation for the night.We had a good fire and food but the rain came off and on.We spent a cramped and pretty sleepless night.Morning came and the engine seemed to have water in, so we tinkered about with it for some time.About 9 o’clock we heard a train coming along.The owner of a car which came the previous night had gone to the station for help.An engine was in and was sent over the bridge for his car which was loaded up on the truck; and Tietz decided to go over with it too.The car refused to start, but after further tinkering Tietz at last brought it to the line, and the men after a struggle managed to get it into the truck.Another car came up and that was soon put on, and we all chuffed over the bridge, the water still deep and fast The car was put in proper order, a stock of food laid in, and off we went towards Karibib.The road was heavy with drift sand but we soon covered the 20 miles to Karibib.The whole country was just tinged with green, the grass shooting up and the undergrowth sending out new leaves.Everything looked washed clean and fresh.We heard that if we rushed on we had a good chance of crossing the Etira River about 10 miles ahead.Behind us all was black with clouds and a new storm was coming up.On we went.Soon the trouble began.Many small rivers, or rather, large ditches, had to be crossed.They all looked dry and innocent, but actually there was generally about a foot of quicksand in the bottom, all sodden with water, and an incline of about 30 degrees to climb up on the far side.All kinds of methods were used to get the cars through, and we carried crude but effective equipment.The most useful things were three steel railway sleepers which, when put in the track of the car, would hold it up where the ground was soft.Then there was a block-and-tackle outfit, which we often had to use to heave the car when other methods failed, that is, if there was a suitable tree to anchor it to.We had many small jacks, and a great irrigation jack weighing about 200 pounds, which would lift the car bodily out of the mud so that the sleepers could be placed underneath.Then we had about 100 yards of steel cable which was used with the blocks or donkeys, suiting the length so that the donkeys would be on good earth while the car was in the heavy going.All the usual spades, shovels, bars and axes were continually used.About the middle of the afternoon we arrived at the Etira River, which was about 100 yards wide, knee deep, with a quicksand bottom.A car was by the river, having been waiting for three days for the water to go down.Across the river was a farm owned by two bachelors.We took off the load and carried it across, and then rushed the car at the river, but only got it in for a few yards before it stuck in the quick sand.By repeatedly lifting the car and putting sleepers below we crossed some 50 yards.The storm broke upon us when we were about halfway across, and the river was rising.In just over three hours we had the lorry across.It was short work then to tow the other two cars over with the lorry, but by the time the last car was over the river had risen considerably and half-an-hour later was a racing torrent.Everyone was wet through, hands blistered, and tired.The baggage was piled in a little cottage, the women made food and we changed to rather drier clothing.That night, besides all the baggage, twenty-two people managed to find room to squat down and sleep in the two small rooms.* The narrative continues on Monday.

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