One Saturday morning one of my friends and I were at Bugs’ house deciding what to do. As there had been speed boat and other in-board engine boat racing at Peaties Lake the day before, we decided to go. On those occasions there was always something interesting to see.
It was a period during which it rained almost every afternoon and as Natal is a region full of lakes and rivers, there had been many floods. It was not advisable at all to ride on gravel roads on a motorbike. As we were young we did not take danger into consideration and decided to go, even though we had been warned not to take risks.
We jumped on our bikes and on a wet and muddy road we started our trip. We soon left Pietermaritzburg behind and we crossed wide open fields with the mountains in the background. We got to Peaties Lake safely. Its uneven waterline gave it special features, like you never knew what surprise was waiting for you around the next corner. That day we found many ducks with their ducklings that followed their mother in single file and also several swans.
Photo by Guy Welch
We got undressed and we all were wearing our swimming-shorts. Mine was light brown with a large dark brown stripe on both sides. Bugs had blue swimming shorts and my other friend was wearing old torn short jeans. We dived into the cold water which was dark because of the heavy rains that brought soil with it. The usual water level had risen and the lake had flooded the surrounding land for more than ten meters. The grass that was covered by the water was full of fish eating not only insects but also the grass as if they were sheep. There were also dark brown snakes which swam away like speed boats as soon as they heard the smallest noise.
We decided to have a race to reach a floating jetty in the middle of the lake. The sun was shining but as usually happens in Natal, the afternoon sky became grey and full of heavy rain clouds. After some lightning and thunder it started raining, but we remained in the water as we were already wet.
Before it got too dark, we decided to start our journey back home to avoid riding in total darkness as the roads were not that familiar to us. We had to cross a wide river which unknowingly rose during the morning after we had crossed earlier. It seemed not to have any bridge, but taking a better look there was the low cement bridge which was covered by the water. Left and right on the cement bridge you could see where the columns were only thanks to the foamy swirls that the rushing water made on the cement columns.
Photo by Chris Hutchins
On the banks near the entrance to the low bridge we saw a group of natives, just sitting on the ground, apparently waiting for the water level to go down so that they could cross safely.
Since that was the only way to go back home, we decided to cross anyway. Obviously we could not drive the bikes across because the water was already too high.
We got off and decided to tackle one bike at a time and after having removed our shoes, we started entering the water with my bike. I held the back side, Bugs and the other friend held the handle-bars and so we proceeded leaving behind our backs unbelieving expressions on the natives’ faces. The current was very strong and going forward was not easy at all. At a certain point the water went right over the bike and we struggled to hold it. Little by little we arrived on the other bank. We went back and did the same with the other two bikes.
Photo by Di Jones
When we arrived on the other side with the last bike, we saw that the group of natives that had seen our crossings, were waving their arms as if to call us back. Although the water level was still rising, we went back to see what had happened.
The natives, having watched our performance, wanted with our help to cross the river and sent the elders to talk to us. Bugs, my other friend and I discussed the matter and decided to help them. The condition was that we hurried up because the water level continued to rise more and more and the risk was that we would not be able to cross before long and be stuck on the wrong side. They asked us to be escorted one by one, like we did with our motorbikes. I begun to laugh and Bugs gave me an elbow in my rib-cage so as to tell me to shut up. We refused to help them under those conditions because too much time was needed and we threatened to leave them there if they didn’t follow our suggestion. After a short meeting with them and lots of hand moving and gesturing, they accepted to do as we said.
We invited the few that had shoes to take them off. Then we told them to stand in single file and we tied their left wrists to the left elbow of the person in front of them using shoelaces. We also recommended that their right hand should rest on the right shoulder of the same fellow in front and not to take it away for any reason. In this way the train should be unbreakable and safe. These measures were necessary because of the current which was so strong that it would easily have washed away a single person.
We formed a train of more than twenty people. I stood at the head, Bugs in the middle and my other friend at the back. Slowly we walked into the rushing water which by now had reached our waists.
We had to make our way to the middle of the bridge avoiding floating trunks of trees and other objects which came towards us at great speed brought by the current.
The natives yelled and shouted in Zulu. I cannot repeat what they said but in the end we all got safely to the other bank. One after the other they got on dry land and as the last man, my friend, came out of the water they all started to dance and sing. Happy to have made it, they thanked us sincerely and soon left and went their own way. We rolled up our sleeves and started working on the motorbikes to get rid of the water that had got into the carburetors and into the exhaust pipes. We dried the spark-plugs and we tried to kick-start our engines.
Bugs’ bike, although the oldest started at the first kick. With mine I had to make many attempts but at last it backfired and then purred like a cat. The third bike we had to tow for several kilometers but in the end it also started like the others.
Photo by Di Jones
Finally we were riding on our iron horses homeward bound. As we did not know the area we decided to follow the sunset. We were sure that it would have shown us the way towards Pietermaritzburg. It was just an illusion, we found ourselves driving in a labyrinth which was impossible to find the way out. We were going through roads which looked all alike, running the real risk of remaining without petrol in the tanks.
Luck was on our side and in that moment a big truck which had a trailer went passed. I saw that it was full of fruits and vegetables, probably it was going to the general market in Pietermaritzburg. I geared down and caught up with the truck. I asked shouting towards the driver where was he heading for. He told me the General Market of Pietermaritzburg so we followed him with big relief. As soon as we recognized the road back home we overtook the truck and waved one hand toward the driver. We soon lost him and his truck in our rearview mirrors and we arrived home in no time.
Ten minutes later we were sitting in my kitchen in front of a steaming mug of tea and alongside a huge slice of our favorite milktart.
That day we had a lot of fun. Nevertheless it was an experience which showed us that we should have listened to our elders who knew more about danger than we did. We learnt to avoid such adventures which could imply many hazards and risks!
About Mauro
I got my inspiration for this website from the song called “Imagine”, and so I decided to go on this adventure. I have always wanted to put up something like this where my friends and I could express our memories and dreams for the future. Share them with us, because if many people dream the same dream it will certainly come true.
Yes we had a lot of courage and did some crazy things which luckily worked in our favour most of the time. Very well described my friend. Your memory is as good as 30 years ago!