Brave Hearts
Every time I attend a surgical mission, there is a person whose journey just steals my heart. There have been over 350 children that have arrived for screening to see who will be accepted for surgery. Out of them 180 were finally scheduled for surgery. This is always the saddest part, those who have to wait another year, its eats a whole in everyone’s heart to know that not everyone can be helped.
Read More»A Teddy
There is a little teddy journey that unfolded on this mystical island of Madagascar during the past week. Jade my daughter of 6 left South Africa bearing gifts of little Cuddly “Bush Babies” that were given to her by Woolworths to hand out to each of the children receiving corrective cleft surgery through Operation Smile, close to 200 of them. I will never forget a few weeks ago when she arrived back from school, I said to her, “Jade go and see what is in your room”, she dropped her bags an ran off, this was followed by silence for about 5 minutes as she struggled to open the 2 large brown boxes. Then – yes chaos broke out.
Read More»Breakfast – the full house with the Century City Canoe Club
Breakfast – To some this means a meal, crucial to the start of a working day, sustenance for what lies ahead, that aroma of coffee that has the ability to wake even the brain dead after a hard evening. But to another group of hardened paddlers it brings a whole new meaning (it will slowly unfold). Some how due to my checkered past of attempting the seemingly impossible, and after months of slow relentless convincing, I was lured into joining the breakfast club for my sins, and thought, being a chef, maybe it was for my ability to cook.
I have done a fair amount of paddling, but in a totally different context and craft.A little surprise was to unfold as the sun slowly rose over the Hottentots Holland mountain and brushed table bay with soft strokes of morning light. Ralf (Tulip) an old hand at paddling, for his sins was assigned to me and given the task of getting me ready for my first down wind dash (an adrenalin rush of note). This was not communicated to me – if only I had known.
The old sea dog had a simple philosophy to my training, this lasted the sun total of 3 days. Just before 6am, in front of the Milnerton life saving club, the group lined up on the beach, normally, to say the least in front of quite a wall of beach breakers. Most would wait for a lull and then head out. No, not my captain, he would wait for the set to roll in and then it was go-go like two Cormorants we would flap, kick and dive our way out. After a few serious “claps” around the gills we would finally get out, yes we did swim a lot as we struggled with balance, needless to say I quickly learned to deal with the cold water. We slowly evolved into the “Breakfast show” keeping everyone amused, especially on our return; the swell seemed to have the habit of just lobbing us back onto the beach.
The down wind was approaching and I was more of a jellyfish hanging in than the engine in the back that Tulip needed to catch the runs in the surf-ski., but my captain had a plan – his student would be ready. The day before event he went into what I would call the archives of the club house and pulled out an antique from under the racks. With a bit of Gemkem glue and a few strips of foam the “Blou Job” in his mind a more stable ski was ready for the dash and according to him so was I
The day broke with 65 km winds and there were thoughts of calling the event off, but not a chance with my motley bunch off we went. 6 times we fell off, tired and beaten we made it to the end, swimming the last 100 meters as we fell off again. We made it, what a “Joll” and the refreshments flowed, so jubilant were the breakfast team that it took till the early hours of the morning to end the jubilation
A week later we did our next run, this time in some smooth lightning bolt, and did pretty well. So, yes now the real motive came to the surface, and of course according to my band of merry men I was ready for the epic ”West Coast Boemelaars” trip. A two day paddle to Langebaan, 110 km. After many a discussion, the planning was done, the supplies dropped off at Ysterfontein and D day arrived
It was Friday there was a mad rush to get everything ready, the SE wind was pumping and, there was a (small!!!) 6 meter swell pumping out there, waves breaking nearly 1km offshore. We hit the beach at Blaauwberg and out we paddled. With all my training I had been through I knew Tulip would probably choose the biggest set to head out through. Yep, true to form we took a “Clap” but only one and out we went – Ysterfontein here we come.
It had been 5 and a half hours of hard paddling in really hectic swell – fatigue was setting in. Falling off the surf-ski became quite common and the cold began to eat into me, I was starting to shiver, it was also getting late and we still had 16 km to go. We made a decision, head for land call it a day.
There was this nervous look around the group as we looked at the massive swell breaking 1km out. I had sapped most of Tulip’s energy with him having to counterbalance and keep us upright, we decided that Richard would take over at my helm and off we headed into the red zone. Tulip joined up with the now sea sick and bait spewing Tallon. Shit just looking at the massive swell in front of us rolling in was scary enough. Slowly Rich twisted in and out of the rollers edging closer and closer in. At one stage he took off his hat, tightened it around his neck and his quick glance back said it all. I knew ”Hier Kom KaK” the ski started to lift, I just heard the scream paddle. I looked back and above me were three stories of seriously angry water. Down it came. I did not know if I would ever get another breath of air down and down I went, I let go of every thing and tumbled with the swell. Eventually I surfaced disorientated and choking looking around I spotted Rich, all I heard him say was, “Pull your life Jacket down; if we make it, we have some thing special to share with our grand children”
The next roller smashed into us and down we went, this time I had serious visions of the real Davey Jones’s locker. 15 minuets later we finally washed up on the beach at Jakkelsfontein, we could finally stand and slowly staggered to shore. I looked to my left and there Richard rolled out just next to the smashed ski, broken in two by the waves. Exhausted, I sat and looked out to sea, Where are the others, my heart sank, I could not see anyone, then Dale and Philip broke out through the swell as their Ski was thrown a few meters into the air. Further behind them I saw the heads of Tulip and Tallon bobbing in the cauldron of white water. Their rudder cable had snapped as they tried to ride one of the monsters in, their ski turned right back into the on coming steam train and they were pummelled.
No one had seen Etienne, then a while later he appeared, all we saw was a carbon fibre missile launched into the air as he was un – ceremonially ripped from his ski, to later crawl out with a what we would call politely, a “Blou Bal”
The folk staying in Jakkelsfontein were frantically phoning each other spreading the news of, as they said “Bodies washing up on the shore”.
They came running down to the beach to see if we were ok, we were a bit rattled with light hypothermia that had set in, but otherwise ok.
What a weekend!, what a breakfast!
It’s left me pondering and thinking what is breakfast actually – all I know it really seems to kick-start the day.
Make a commitment
Make a commitment
The past few days have been a real journey for so many people from different walks of life, countries and cultures. Everyone has come together for a simple reason, to quietly make a difference. These are real people not driven by any ulterior motive that so often seems to be the underlying drive with modern day life.
I have been privileged to be involved with a group of, Surgeons, Doctors, anaesthetists theatre sisters, nurses, just ordinary people, the list just keeps growing. No one is too important to carry a box , move a bed, pick up a child, stop, greet you and ask just a simple question, are you ok – is there anything that I can do for you.
I sit her and question, is this the real world, or am I dreaming, am I actually part of this. I look down the passage at Jade, laughing and playing with a little girl, hugging her and sharing her apple, trying to teach the little one to take a bite with her distorted little face,. The test is a failure, but they roll back their heads in laughter and carry on playing. People are scurrying everywhere, each with a specific task to fill, ultimately culminating in a little whimper in the recovery ward after surgery as Pam the Paediatrician and the recovery doctor awakes the little beauty and reunites them with their parents.
Yes this makes me think and yes this is what the real world can be like. We so often throw up our hand in despair, and say how will my little bit help, what happens in the end you do nothing as you feel your effort is worthless. NO that is where you are wrong, look what a difference this team is making. Be part of our team , join up, Pledge . Come on be part of the growing initiative that is out there.
The Mission
The mission
We checked into our Hotel and it was straight off to the Hospital to meet up with the Operation Smile team who were already half way through the first day of screening.
We drove into the grounds of this massive hospital complex, grey stained buildings, sun parched grounds and masses of people trickling in and out of the front gate, things were happening here.
As we approached the screening are, I could see the masses of people, lots of then looking quite bewildered, lost as well as overwhelmed with what was happening. Every now and then I would catch a glimpse of a distorted, twisted face shielded from my view. What really struck me was the amount of little children wrapped in light linen, hidden from the scrutinizing eyes of the public. I could feel the inner hurt of the mother, but I could also feel the overwhelming sense of hope that was awash in the air. This was the biggest amount of people that I had ever seen at a screening that I had been to, but over the next 2 days, there were more that were on their way.
We climbed up 4 flights of stars, the walls painted a light turquoise, crusted with years of grime brushed from hundreds of people journeying up into the heart of dilapidated hospital. Finally reaching the screening floor, each test the children need to undergo set up in a different room.
My ears ran with the sound of the crying of children bouncing of the wall of the sparsely furnished rooms. A sound that seems to penetrate deep into ones subconscious and trigger emotion that is unstoppable, you just want to run up and hug the little ones.
The Operation Smile team quietly and effortlessly work through the queue of children, everything is so well organised. The love and passion that is shown from this group of volunteers who constantly give up months of their time never ceases to amaze me.
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