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“Flying the Fish”
Page II
By the time we reached Port Nolloth the northerly was in full effect all the way to the ground and it was really getting bumpy. As we approached, the runway that was clearly marked on the map, was no where to be seen.
While hanging on to the bar, Tjeerd and I were busy discussing our options when a heavenly voice came from an Air Namibia pilot above. “Yes, there is a runway in Port Nolloth”. I said to him that I was just north of the town over a large saltpan and did not have it visual. He replied, “That’s it, the pan is the runway. Land on the marked section with the drums on both ends”. After all the turbulence it was great to land on the extremely smooth pan …
Mark found us with no trouble. After setting up camp we set out to explore the pan with the Gopeds. They are fold up off road scooters that weigh in at 9 Kg with a 1-horse power engine that reach speeds of 25 miles an hour. We had a blast; they really take you back to your childhood.
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While sitting around the fire that evening, I received a call from Security Clearance Services letting us know that our permits had been issued for the following day. Thank goodness they had arrived in the nick of time.
The next morning the northerly was still hanging about as we set off for Alex along the coast. The air traffic controller was amazing and routed us straight in for landing. We cleared customs and had a quick flight across the river to Oranjemund to clear immigration on the Namibian side.
Once airborne the terrain really surprised me. Just a mile north of the river the landscape changed to desert. We took the scenic route following the Orange River, with the mountains growing more spectacular as we headed toward the Richtersveld.
All of a sudden there was a loud buzzing sound through the intercom and the picture from my camera turned to criss-cross lines. The trike had suffered a catastrophic electrical failure. My radio, GPS and cameras were dead. I was sure that the filming part of my journey was over and I had lost communication with Tjeerd.
As soon as we flew out of the security area we looked for a place to land. Tjeerd found a section of graded road running at a 45 degree angle away from the road itself and landed first, with me following in close behind. Mark arrived shortly thereafter and asked what the problem was.
The heat on the ground was incredible, not what we had expected for winter in the desert. A hot wind was blowing easterly out of the desert. We looked for the problem and did not find anything obvious. After fiddling for a few hours and blowing more fuses we had only made the problem worse. There was a dead short somewhere and with the wind strengthening we tied our trikes up for the night.
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After setting up camp we headed off down to the river for a swim. We gained access to the river down a steep twenty-meter wooded slope with inviting knee-deep mud at the bottom. Since we had not bathed since leaving Cape Town, we took this opportunity to get clean. The water was fantastic, we felt like we were the last people left on the planet, with not a sign of human habitation anywhere around.
As soon as we dried off, the intense heat returned, along with other unwelcome guests. The bugs descended upon us; being so clean we must have smelt like honey. The attack was vicious and lasted until sunset. We took a unanimous decision to not bathe with soap for the remainder of the trip.
That night my trike’s water temperature gauge read 35 degrees. Instead of enjoying the cool crisp desert air, we were on a slow roast sitting around in our shorts. Still, we were elated to be out in the vast open space of Africa, with more stars overhead than I have ever seen before. We settled down to the evening ritual of braaing before hitting the sack. I slept with the doors of my tent as wide open as possible to keep cool.
The next morning we decided to fly about 60 Km to Rosh Pinna to look for an electrician. Our map showed an airfield so it looked promising. We packed a Goped on the back of my trike and set off, while Mark stayed behind at base camp.
On arriving overhead Rosh Pinna we started looking for the airfield. The town is really small, located adjacent to a mine and there was clearly no airfield in sight. We circled overhead to attract attention and to look for a place to land.
Continued
on Page 3
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