JAGERSFONTEIN
About 14 km from Fauresmith, where I started my banking career, lies the small diamond mining town of Jagersfontein. Mining of the kimberlite pipe began as far back as 1870 and the huge open pit mine lays claim to being the biggest hand excavated hole in the world, bigger even (Not deeper though) than the famed hole at Kimberley. During its long history, nearly ten million carats of gem quality diamonds were taken from the pipe and two of the top 10 biggest diamonds ever found, the Excelsior and the Jubilee (Originally the Reitz), came from Jagersfontein. While I was in Fauresmith, the mine was re-processing the earliest dumps and running all the tailings through the plant again. The original method of extraction did not catch all the diamonds and sometimes, even gem quality diamonds were recovered by this method. I remember seeing giant dump trucks and loaders darting around on the dumps and often wished I could walk around a bit and see what I could pick up.
Sometime before I audited there, the manager was Koos Coetzee. There was a time when Koos’ son and daughter also worked in the branch while the accountant, Liz Brookshaw, was the only non-family member of the staff. I surmise that must be something of a record. Koos’ wife was Joyce Coetzee, who was a well known, accomplished organist who released some albums, one of which I own. Koos was eventually appointed sub-accountant in charge of foreign exchange in Bloemfontein and he became the “go to” man for all the young Free State accountants who had little experience of anything foreign. The son Kokkie and I worked together at Phillippolis.
JONES STREET, KIMBERLEY
Jones Street branch has cropped up once or twice in my essays which has not left me much to recall. However, during one of our visits, the manager arranged for us to visit a diamond cutting business in the town. As can be imagined, security measures and technology were of the highest order. We watched an army of diamond cutters carefully cutting and polishing all sorts of stones. We ended up in the owner’s office where on his tables he had dozens of tiny paper envelopes on which rested stones which he was busy examining and evaluating. Really startling was a pair of 1 carat ORANGE diamonds, which had been cut from a 2.5 carat stone found in the Jagersfontein mine. Only red diamonds are rarer than orange diamonds and he estimated their value at R75 000 …. EACH! I was impressed and even a little nervous to be close up to such beautiful stones.
I have also previously mentioned my love for Science Fiction and my SF book collection. My main source of new books and friend Arie van Dordrecht in East London, gave me two names and said when I was in Kimberley, I should contact them as they also bought SF from him. The chaps were Kampie van Blerk and Ben Groenewald, two Railways officials who it transpired, lived near each other. Compared to especially Ben, I was a rank amateur when it came to collecting SF. This fine fellow had actually built a room onto his house which he had lined with bookshelves which were filled with mint SF paperbacks. He let me into his “holy of holies” provided I did not take down any books. Every book was in pristine condition, with nary a dog-eared page or a wrinkled spine. I asked him if he had read them and he had … very, very carefully so as not to spoil the condition. The whole family was proud of Dad’s amazing collection and sat back while Ben and I monopolized the conversation. I eventually ask him what would happen to his books in the event of his demise and his teenage daughter piped up and she said they were hers, as she was also a fan. I jokingly went down on one knee and asked her to marry me because to me she would be rich beyond measure in time to come. I’ve lost all touch with the chaps but I ran into Ben one night at Estoril, the exotic bookshop which existed then in Hillbrow. He had come to Johburg by train with an EMPTY suitcase just to buy more books. He assured me that he almost always managed to fill it up. I wish I knew what has happened to those people and that fine collection of books.
I first visited Jones Street with Bush Morley. We stayed at the Horseshoe Motel at the edge of town. As it was over the Christmas season, we both took a bit of leave but when we got back, we found that our hotel booking had been messed up and that for a night, we had to share a bungalow. We managed but in the morning Bush wanted to know what I was yakking about all night. Seems I snore and talk in my sleep! I am reminded of a phrase at the end of Bronte’s “Wuthering Heights”, namely “Unquiet slumbers for sleepers”. Bush could relate to that ……….
SMITH STREET EAST. DURBAN
I loved working in Durban but then, who wouldn’t? On Dave Sharp’s recommendation, I booked into the Berea Hotel which was more of a residential hotel than a tourist hotel. The only drawback was that it contained a beer lounge which played loud music at night and my room was right above it. But I soon got used to it. I liked where the hotel was situated in Berea Road – a busy bus route. I actually enjoyed riding a bus to work every day. However, one morning the bus was involved in a minor fender bender in heavy traffic and we all had to sit tight while the cops sorted it all out. My boss, Wilf Roberts was not very impressed when I strolled in an hour late but he rather reluctantly accepted my explanation.
The bus stop where I caught my bus back to the hotel was right outside the Ulundi Bar at the Royal Hotel which was a huge bonus as that was our favourite watering hole. Also on the route back was a KFC branch which was a boon if I overstayed my welcome at the Ulundi and missed dinner at the hotel. I occasionally used to take in a movie at the Playhouse on a Saturday afternoon and on one occasion, I was pleased because “The Last Waltz” was showing. This was basically a farewell concert to which the great rock band called The Band had brought a galaxy of stars like Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, Neil Diamond etc as guests and as I already had and had enjoyed the triple LP soundtrack, I was most keen to see the movie. As I waited for the show to start I looked around the theatre and was surprised to find the place filling up with pensioners not youngsters like myself.
I was mystified but twenty minutes into the film, the mystery was solved, as the old people started leaving in droves. I realized that the film’s title had misled them and they thought it had to do with Johan Strauss and his waltzes. No-one had read the blurb and thought that they had been cheated. I enjoyed the movie thoroughly and still occasionally listen to favourite tracks from it.
On another occasion, the Led Zeppelin documentary “The song remains the same” was showing in town, so I invited my Greytown friends, Grant and Jo Hedges to join me for a meal and the movie afterwards. Friars, a well known seafood restaurant used to have the “Feast of the Friars” on a Friday night, where for a fixed amount you could eat as much seafood as you could manage. It went down pretty well but what a damp squib the movie turned out to be! The cinema management neglected to turn up the sound and a band which has to be played damn loud to be appreciated, was barely audible throughout the movie.
I may have mentioned this before elsewhere but while we were at the branch, Cliff Richard popped in to cash some traveller’s cheques. I was working in the ledger department when all of a sudden, all the ladies started squealing and rushed out of the door into the banking hall. Mystified, I followed them out and there was this quite short fellow at the counter, with all the girls around him, getting autographs. The little girl serving him had nearly fainted when she realized who her customer was.
FLORIDA ROAD, DURBAN
We visited this branch in the company of Wilf Roberts. The premises were severely cramped, to the extent where there was no room for us clerks in the branch and we had to make do in an outside room which the cleaners normally used. Durban in January is a nastily hot and humid place and without air conditioning, we suffered badly in that outside room.
One of our team, Keith Williamson, was getting married and Wilf insisted that we have bachelor party for him. I don’t even remember the hotel where this took place but I do remember that we had a good few Castles. The next day we all felt well under par, sitting steaming in our outside room. Roberts popped out to see if we were even alive and was scornful about our hangovers. “Are YOU OK Mr Roberts” someone ventured. “I’m perfectly well” he snorted, “You chaps shouldn’t be drinking if you can’t take it”.
We suffered through the morning, supported by numerous cups of sweet tea and jugs of cold water. Then at midday out popped Roberts. “Who is joining me for a “regmaker” at the Waggonwheel Hotel across the road”? We never said a word as we all trooped across the road to get some of that “hair of the dog”. Wilf Roberts would NEVER admit to being hung over but the rest of us were mere mortals I’m afraid.
ORKNEY
Bush Morley and I walked into Orkney branch the day before mine payday and the branch was holding some three million Rand in cash in the strongroom. We were supposed to check this mountain of cash but Bush took one look at the endless stacks and simply ticked the figure in the treasury book. I suppose cash checks might have been necessary but I recall very few occasions when there were any differences in treasury and then the amounts were insignificant.
There are a number of mines in the Klerksdorp/Orkney area but the main gold mine then was the Vaal Reefs Gold Mine. The mine had some 9 shafts and when you were at the No 1 shaft, No 9 shaft was below the horizon. We would have liked very much, to go down one of the shafts if it could be arranged but they only accepted tours and we could not get a group together. Instead they allowed us to watch gold being cast into gold bars. The process was most interesting to watch and I went to town with my brand new Pentax K1000 and took scores of snaps. At the end, we were allowed to pick up and feel the weight of the bars. No free samples though ….
VILLIERS
Villiers is not the most exciting place in the land. The bank was a drab little sandstone building with nothing redeeming about it. I was quite well settled in and working my way through my routine. I was talking to one of the ladies about some routine matter when I suddenly noticed she wasn’t listening to me but was staring fixedly at a well-dressed black man at the counter. Then I realized that the office had gone quiet and that all the ladies were now staring at the fellow. After a minute or two, he had completed his business and left the branch and all the girls once more unfroze and carried on working. It seems that a few months earlier they had been robbed by a similarly dressed black man and that trauma was still very fresh in their minds. They wanted to be able to easily identify any future robber who might darken their door.
The hotel was battling to make a go of things and given the state of the bed I tried to sleep in it was hardly surprising. I have slept in many beds in my time but the Villiers Hotel bed has the dubious distinction of being by far the worst I ever encountered. When I sat on it, both ends curled back towards me and I found myself trapped in a hollow area with lumpy mattress all around me. I could not move and actually struggled to get out of the bed. The only solution was to dump the mattress flat on the floor and sleep that way. Every day the bedroom maid would dutifully pick it up and put it back on the rickety bed and every night I’d drop it back on the floor. They never took the hint.
BETHULIE
Bethulie is a quietly decaying little dorp with nothing except its farming community to keep it going. I was accompanied there by Clive Warnes who had just rejoined audit after returning to the branch system for a score of years. We were to do a couple of branches together, so that he could absorb the changes which had come about in the years he was away in a branch. I showed him the ropes and then allowed him to carry on while I checked securities. No sooner had we started when I was called away to do a “special” at Thaba ‘Nchu and I took longer than I thought I would and Clive had effectively done the audit on his own and had started writing a report. I was going to sign the report so it ended up being heavily edited to suit my style – Clive was devastated! He had tried to emulate my writing style but had failed and was mortified. Suddenly returning to audit was a mistake- he felt he could not even write a decent report. He wanted to write reports like mine. It took me a lot of pep talking to convince him that he did not have to write like John Lyle or anyone else but Clive Warnes. “Keep it short and simple and avoid “jawbreakers”, (which he maintained I was using) was my advice and he calmed down enough to tackle our next branch, Phillippolis quite well.
As there was no hotel in Bethulie, we stayed at the Gariep Dam Motel, some 50 km away. The branch manager asked us to his house for a drink and supper. I agreed to accept the invitation provided we could be on our way by 8 pm, to which the manager agreed. We arrived at the house at 4.45 pm and already there were the doctor & his wife and a prominent farmer & his wife. I had quit drinking some years before, so I viewed the gathering with a decidedly jaundiced eye. Suddenly a mighty argument erupted between the doctor and the farmer, whose daughter it transpired, was a pharmacist, about whether doctors should be allowed to dispense medicine or not. Well lubricated by the flowing alcohol, neither protagonist would give way. To make things worse, Clive also quite well oiled, had to shoot his mouth off about a subject about which he knew nothing! Closest I’ve ever come to actually thumping a colleague.
I started wondering if there was any food coming as the 8 o’ clock deadline had already been passed so I strolled into the kitchen, where to my disgust, the manager’s wife could barely stand, she was so drunk. Maids were presumably preparing the food but it wasn’t in evidence and I was just livid. I confronted the equally inebriated manager and announced I was leaving. He was aghast and protested that I hadn’t eaten yet. I retorted that it didn’t look as if ANYONE would eat that night. A plate was rustled up for me and I gobbled down some food and made my exit with a jabbering, protesting Warnes in tow.
Folks, I’m not normally a rude person but that night I was beside myself with anger. To make things worse, I could not find the street out of the town in the dark and Warnes thought this was hilarious and cackled away next to me . I recall yelling at him, “Shut up before I f….. you up” and all the way home we sat in tense silence. The next day I said he should write the manager’s staff report because if I did it, I’d bloody well get him fired!
MAYDON WHARF, DURBAN
One of our team Rob Lear, had just left Internal Audit and was appointed to Maydon Wharf as accountant. As luck would have it, the branch audit was imminent and Rob, who was still welcome at our Friday evening “committee meetings”, constantly fished for an indication of when Wilf Roberts and a team would darken his doorstep. Wilf pretended not to notice the hints but he was determined to fool Rob. He decided that we would start on a day which Rob would never suspect as being D-Day – a Saturday. He was right because Rob had taken the day off so Wilf could not savour the look on Rob’s face when we walked in. In a way, both had won that battle of wits.
I recall asking a cleaner to bring me the cancelled shipping guarantees without specifying which period I needed. Suddenly I became aware of a stack of cardboard boxes growing behind me. I was used to branches where shipping guarantees were rarities but Maydon Wharf handled scores every single day, being so close to the docks and the shipping companies. Luckily I spotted the pile in time because there must have been at least 30 boxes still to come and that doughty fellow was bringing out the whole flipping lot. I think Rob had a good chuckle at my embarrassment. And I don’t think I made a friend of that perspiring cleaner either.
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