Stories of your Dad - by Rodney Cooper

 Two memories really stick out in my mind.

Around 1974, your grandfather invited my dad and I on a fishing trip to Zavora, Mozambique. I believe your grandfather went ahead of us, so I can't recall if your granny was there. Regardless, we had to pick your dad up very early one morning at Tamara, your family farm before heading out for our trip.

Of course, your dad had been partying the night before, so it took a while to rouse him and get us all loaded into the bakkie for the drive to Mozambique. Once we arrived in Zavora, we spent what was probably three or four days fishing. Your grandpa Bob had built a boat on the farm out of plastic piping and fiberglass. It was a small boat – a bit cramped for the four of us – but we managed to fish in it and caught a bunch of fish. We even ventured far out to sea where land was out of sight.

I'm pretty sure we didn't have any life jackets, and the little motor we had was barely enough to get us back and forth. On one return trip from fishing, your dad suggested taking the helm because he was more experienced than your grandpa, especially when navigating the breakers near the beach. Unfortunately, the inevitable happened: we capsized after being hit by a wave. Thankfully, we weren't too far out, maybe only 50 meters, but we did lose most of our catch and a lot of gear. You can only imagine what your grandpa said to your dad!

One evening, your dad decided to go to the pub for some drinks and asked if I wanted to join him. Since I was probably 14 in 1974, My Dad likely saw it as an opportunity to introduce me to some of life's evils. So I was allowed to go along, but with one condition: I had to drink whatever he gave me and not whinge. We went to the pub, where everyone seemed to know your dad – he was a real legend. We had a night of drinking, and I remember leaving the pub flying. When I got back, my old man obviously knew I'd been drinking, but he didn't make a fuss and turned a blind eye. We went to bed late but were up at sunrise feeling like death warmed up, yet ready to head back out fishing. Despite the rough start, it was a great experience and a truly enjoyable holiday spent with your dad.

My second memory takes place in 1981. I was back working for my dad at the time, your Dad was doing Game capture and working on the farm alongside Grandpa Bob. There was a function at your mom and dad's house in the valley. Back then, in 1981, video cameras were just becoming a novelty. They were huge compared to what we have today and what we can do with our phones. Your dad showed us a video of a woman stripping at the Fort Coepieba Hotel in Hoedspruit, if I remember correctly. I remember your mom being upset because she recognized some of her clothes on the stripper. (Mom was just pissed he had filmed a stripper) That was just so typical of your dad the way he operated. He just flew by the seat of his pants, but he was unbelievable, you know, nothing concerned him in life.

Those are my two main stories, I spent countless hours with your Dad at the Craighead Club with Cliff Coppen and Kevin Lancefield. We had some fantastic times together. He was such a character! There were times in the summer at the Craighead Club when we'd experience torrential downpours. We'd take turns going down to the Craighead Bridge to see how high the floodwaters were getting before they overflowed. One person would go down, come back, and say something like, "It's still half a meter to go!" We'd respond, "Alright, two more beers then!" and head back in to continue enjoying ourselves until it became truly dangerous, and they had to clear off the farm.

Your dad was certainly a character, great fun to be around, and it's a real tragedy that he's gone.

Rodney Cooper March 19, 2024