Chapter 9

It was early July and the first real cold front from out of the South Atlantic struck Cape Town and the northern parts of the Cape Peninsula. It gripped the lower part of the west coast and south Cape coasts in icy rain and gale force winds.

Dark grey clouds rolled in from the south-west. Everywhere it was wet and cold. This was winter in the Cape. Cabo das Tormentas was living up to its name. Soon winter storm after winter storm would strike with a vengeance, and between the rain, ice and snow caps in the mountains, one would testify to the miserable winter weather. Even the sight of the snow-capped Table Mountain, Constantia Mountain and Hottentots Holland Mountains would not cheer up the weather-depressed denizens.

Four hundred kilometres to the east-south-east of Cape Town, the towns of George, Knysna and Plettenberg Bay would feel the icy grip of the weather but would only get sporadic high winds and the occasional drenching rain, as the cold fronts move east and sometimes north, reaching the cities of Bloemfontein, Johannesburg and Pretoria.

But the Karoo towns on Victoria-West, Beaufort-west, and Sutherland were used to being covered in a white blanket of snow. Near to the Drakensberg everything would be covered by the white sheet. Karoo is a contrast of extremes: as hot as it gets during summer, the opposite happens during winter.

But here on the south coast at Plettenberg Bay, snow was only visible on the high peaks of the Tsitsikamma and Outeniqua Mountains.

With the winter settling in, construction at the seawater desalination plant came to a virtual standstill, with only the possible indoor work being carried out. The big construction of the high stainless steel convection towers and the concrete retainment dams were temporally on hold.

That meant for us that flying tons of construction material around dropped to a minimum. Jeff and I would fly from dawn to dusk for three to four days, depending on the weather, then a week or ten days would drag by with no flight time recorded.

The winter weather also meant that tourism was down. This gave Jeff the time to consider visiting his home out in Sandton, Johannesburg. Sue, also not too busy, went along. Hmm ... Well, the two of them flew out on the Citation X to Rand Airport.

The two Pienaars and one McGee visited me at the Cabin for a braai. Yeah, braai in winter? Why not? The temperature was twenty-three degrees Celsius, during the afternoon and the sky was clear. The wind? Breezing along the coast and thus wind-still here between the shelter of the trees at the cabin.

And with the sun dropping down to the western horizon, the shadows of the trees got longer. Even the birds had gone off to wherever birds go to roost.

The red glowing embers of the braai were slowly dimming out while we ate our supper.

“The C-130 is due in tomorrow,” Jenny remarked while sipping on a glass of white wine.

“That reminds me,” I replied. “I might slip away as well.”

“Going home to check the cat?”

“I don’t have a cat, but yes, checking on the house and such.” I looked across at Bobbie who had just come and sat next to me on a camping chair.

“Oh?” Bobbie asked. “Going to check your house?”

“Yeah ... Why don’t you tag along? It’s winter school holidays anyway.”

“Aunt Jen?”

“How long?” Jenny asked, looking at John who was munching away on a lamb chop.

“Three or four days. Less than a week. Besides, Jeff and Sue will be back about the same time we get back.”

“Well, I’ve got no objection. John?”

“It’s good with me,” John replied without looking up from his plate.

Good! Bobbie does not suspect a thing. Taking her with me to Pretoria will give John, Jenny, and Sue ample time to complete the finer touches on Bobbie’s surprise birthday party.

“We must be back in time for my drivers’ license appointment!” Bobbie added, looking sideways at me. I thought it funny that she did not mention her birthday coming up two days before her drivers’ license appointment.

“Yeah! Plenty of time.”

“Then I better start to pack...” she replied, subdued, but I could feel the boiling excitement inside. Her eyes betrayed her.

“Enthusiasm, Bobbie! Show a little excitement!” Jenny admonished. “You get to ride in the company C-130. Something I never got to do.”

“OF COURSE, I’m excited!” Bobbie perked up. “I just did not want to show it and let you think funny things...”

“What funny things?” Jenny asked, but I could see a devil dancing in her eyes.

“You know? Me ... alone with my boyfriend...” Giggle.

“You’ll be as safe as a nun in a monastery!” John replied. I just sat quietly, saying nothing. I had a strange feeling that I might not be so safe as a priest in an abbey. But let’s not place the cart before the horse to town.

The rest of the evening went quiet and smooth, until:

“Well, time to go,” John announced. “Thanks for a wonderful afternoon, Louis. Next time we braai at our place!”

“But It’s only seven o’clock!” Bobbie complained.

“Yeah, but it’s not holidays for Jenny and me,” John replied. “It’s work tomorrow, and I must still go and finish my prep for that case in court tomorrow...”

“Okay, let me get the glasses and take them inside,” Bobbie sighed.

“I’ll help you,” Jenny replied.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll manage ... It’s only four of them.” She declined Jenny’s offer and looked at me. Hmm, maybe Bobbie had an unspoken idea of her own.

“Well, let me just run inside for a moment before you go,” I said and got up.

Jenny and John sat for a while longer, looking at the dying embers of the fire and holding hands on the couch. I walked into the cabin and Bobbie gathered the few empty glasses still on the patio table, then followed me inside to the kitchen.

“There...” she said, rinsed the glasses and placed them on the drying rack. “Dishes done!”

“Lucky you guys did the big lot an hour ago,” I replied.

“Now, while those two outside are not missing us yet ... Kiss a girl good night.” That was an instruction I could follow, and still not feel guilty about it. I opened my arms, and she melted into me, pressing her tight body hard against me. She had to reach up on tiptoes to snake her arms around my neck. I held her around the waist, and our lips met. Her kiss was sweeter than wine, and I prayed it never ended, but we had to get some air in our lungs somehow, and soon the kiss was over. Too soon it was over.

“We better get outside...” she whispered.

“Yeah ... We better.”

Placing my hand on her shoulder, I steered her to the patio door, dropping my hand from that delightful protrusion just before we came into sight of John and Jenny.

“You guys took an awful long time to put those glasses down?” Jenny snickered.

“Oh, come on, Jenny, they had to wash and dry the glasses too!” John replied. In the dim light of the patio, I saw Bobbie blush. Lucky John and Jenny didn’t see it.

Soon they were on their way, Jenny and Bobbie waving out the car windows, and me waving back. Long after the red taillights disappeared around the trees along the dirt road, I still stood gazing out on the road. Then I felt a touch of a furry tail against my left leg.

I looked down.

The old stray cat that was hovering in the shrubs all evening and scurrying out to grab a morsel of lamb-chop I dropped for it now and then, was winding around my legs. It was his normal “feed me” time.

“Oh, come on, Scruffy, let’s go get you some Whiskers cat food,” and I turned back to the cabin with the cat following.

In another seven and a half months, I’ll be going back to Pretoria. I’d better take old Scruffy along, else he’ll starve to death. One never knows how he will be treated by any new residents of the cabins.

Then there was the nagging question of the other ginger kitten in my life. What to do about her?

At seven o’clock the next morning I unlocked my office door and stepped inside. There were no pressing matters to attend to, just my normal get-to-work time. The only pressing matter was to attend to the C-130 and its tidbits of stuff for us.

For a moment I looked at the CemAir De Havilland Dash 8-Q300 taxiing out to the runway, the turboprops making a racket in the still morning air, and the smell of burned A1-Jet fuel stinging my nostrils.

My cell rang. HQ. Okay, that means something is afoot.

“Good morning, Joss! You’re up early?”

“Early bird and all that. How are you keeping?”

“Trying to catch a ride on the C-130 back to there, if you don’t mind.”

“What! Has Jeff finally driven you over the edge?” Chuckle.

“Nope! He and his new girlfriend are up in Jo’burg airing out his house now.”

“New girlfriend? Well, that is good news. I was worried about him.”

“No, he’s doing fine. But let him tell you himself when he gets around to it.”

“Okay. About the C-130. It won’t be dropping in today.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t worry. It’s all taken care of. It’s grounded due to an igniter fault on the number three engine, but our holding company, AEL, has their Boeing seven forty-seven freighter bringing you the box of stuff you need. They are flying to Windhoek, Namibia, with some cargo, then divert to George to drop off your stuff and fly back.”

“Today?”

“Yeah, this afternoon around 14:00. Have Jenny or one of the ground crew drop you off at George Airport and take the box back. Then you can hop on and fly home.”

“I was thinking of that. The Plett runway is way too short for the seven forty-seven, but George will do. They can land and take off there with a thousand feet to spare!”

“So, problem solved.”

“Not quite ... I will have company with me...”

“What company?”

“A redhead who wants a ride in the L-39.”

“Ooo! A redhead?”

“Yeah...”

“So, someone else got a girlfriend? I must come look at the possibilities in Plett!”

“She’s not a girlfriend. She’s a friend that happens to be a girl.”

“So say you...”

“Yeah, say I. She’s a schoolgirl.”

“Oh. Too young for you?”

“I don’t mess with jailbait!”

“Bring her anyway. Just keep her away from the load master on the seven forty-seven!”

“Why?”

“Because SHE’s a redhead too!”

“Oh brother! Nadia?”

“Nope! Tracy-Lee...”

“I see what you mean. But Tracy is okay. Nadia is the naughty one. Always causing mayhem and chaos.”

“Not always, just don’t mix her and Tracy together! Remember 14:00 at George Airport. Don’t make them wait!”

“Never, Boss. We’ll be on time.”

“Rather say you will abide by the ETA. Remember what happened to One Time Airline...”

I chuckled. Joss can be so superstitious at times. “Are you still on about their call sign?”

“Don’t tempt fate!”

“It’s just a superstition, Joss. We all know that One Time’s call sign was On Time, and they went broke due to mismanagement!”

“That’s your side of the story!” Joss said. “I’ll stick to mine...”

“Okay, I might see you tomorrow.”

“Do so. Drop in at the office. I’ll have coffee brewing.”

“Right, let me go organize the pick-up for the box.”

“Right on! See you around and enjoy your flight.” And with that he disconnected. Now to break the news to Jenny.

At 09:00 John came by and dropped Bobbie off at Jenny’s office. I went across for morning coffee after stopping at the airport café for lemon and poppy seed muffins.

I walked into Jenny’s office armed with the muffins.

“Right, who wants a muffin?” I asked and was nearly attacked by the two women.

“Please!” Jenny exclaimed.

“Thanks, Louis! One for me too!” Bobbie said with blue eyes twinkling.

“Hey! Slow down! There’s plenty to go around.” I defended.

“Yeah, but they are still fresh and hot!” Jenny retorted.

“I’ll get the coffee,” came from the ginger head with the blue eyes.

I placed the tray with muffins on Jenny’s desk and sat down in my usual chair in her office.

Jenny busied herself with some paperwork, and I waited until she had the pen halfway in her mouth with a frown between her eyes.

“Oh Jenny, hate to break it to you, but the Herc won’t put in today...”

“And why not?” She responded, annoyed. “I have all those documents to go back! It’s important,” and she put more documents into a lockable transit bag.

“Don’t worry. The Herc has a problem, and the seven forty-seven from AEL will divert from Windhoek, Namibia with all your stuff.”

“Does that mean we’re not going to Pretoria?” Bobbie asked in a faint girlie voice. She clearly was looking forward to the trip.

“Yeah, if we can convince Jenny, or one of the ground crew to take us to George.”

“Why George?”

“Because our runway is too short, and the big bird can’t land or take off from here.” I explained.

“Oh,” Bobbie said and handed me a mug of coffee. “So, they are going to land in George?”

“Yes.”

“So, we are still going?”

“Yes, just from another airport.”

“Okay ... But don’t scare me like that ever again!” Snort! And she took a muffin. “Come on, you guys. This stuff is still hot.”

“So!” Jenny remarked. “Angels Express Logistics are taking up the slack for Phoenix Air. How kind of them...”

“Don’t be sarcastic, Jenny. They’re the holding company for us.”

“Yeah us, the small fish...”

“We’re not small fish. We are the rotor wing part of the deal. They run freight and the fixed wing operation. Besides, we’re getting another helicopter and a new pilot from them soon.”

“Oh, another Super Puma?”

“No, but something smaller for the light work. I suspect a EC145 or a Sikorsky S76.”

“OOo! A Sky-crane!” Bobbie exclaimed. I chuckled.

“No pumpkin. A Sky-crane is larger than the Puma.”

“Okay! I’ll Google it,” and she bit into her muffin. “Mmm...” She cooed.

“And the new pilot?” Jenny asked and eyed me with her ’here comes trouble’ expression. “Ronny? He’s the cargo slinging guy for them now.”

“Nah ... He won’t tear himself away from that black-haired girlfriend of his. I believe it’s someone new to the company. But the copter and the new pilot would stay in Pretoria for the time being. There’s much smaller work out in Gauteng, North-West, and Limpopo.”

“Okay. So, what time at George?”

“The expected time of arrival is 14:00.”

“Good we need to leave at 12:00”

“Yes, Boss!” I replied and Jenny threw her pen at me. I caught it without much effort.

We used Jenny’s company bakkie to drive to George. I sat in the back of the double cab bakkie, with Bobbie left front and Jenny driving the hour and a half trip to George Airport, one hundred and three kilometres away.

We joined up with the N2 national road at the junction of Robberg Road. All along the road the devastation of the recent fire was to be seen. After the village of Sedgefield, things got a little better, and finally lush green vegetation sided the N2 National Road.

The village of Wilderness slipped by, and we crossed the Kaaimans River into the outskirts of George, just before the turn-off onto the R404 road towards the George Airport. There the N2 Highway became a dual carriage way. Looks like we were getting nearer to civilization.

The N2 highway would keep on as a dual carriage way until the city of Mossel Bay, where again it will become a single strip of tar road with two lanes. This will continue until after Sir Lowry’s Pass, when it turns back as a dual carriage way, running into Cape Town. But that was four hundred kilometres on.

This was all new to Bobbie, who had never been past Knysna. All that one ever needed was available in either Plettenberg Bay or Knysna. There was no need for her to travel to George. Although, with the schoolgirl’s hockey A-team, this will be rectified later in her school year, as they were scheduled to be the away team against the team of George Senior Secondary School’s A-team.

Jenny parked in a parking bay, and we all got out and retrieved Bobbie’s and my five-day crash bags and Jenny’s package to go to HQ.

As we walked to the terminal building, I turned on my air-band hand-held radio and tuned it to the tower frequency of FAGG at 118.900 MHz. It was 13:35, and I suspected we would hear the tower call from the seven forty-seven.

“Foxtrot, Alpha, Golf, Golf tower, this is Angels Seven Heavy. With you,” came from a very German accented voice.

“Angels Seven, Golf, Golf Tower! We’re expecting you. Go ahead.”

“Angels Seven Heavy, twenty-five nautical miles due west for landing runway two niner.”