Rob Birt instructed over several years in the late 1960s and early 1970s. He writes this interesting account of his observations and experiences which certainly encapsulate the essence of Veld and Vlei back then.
I was a final year student at Johannesburg College of Education (JCE) in 1968. The following year I started my geography teaching career at Krugersdorp High School.
I was first introduced to Veld and Vlei through John Hall. We were both at Wits and stayed in the JCE Knockando residence. We also taught together at KHS. John, I think, was inspired by Outward Bound and coming from Cape Town where he went to school at Westerford, he had probably heard about the Veld and Vlei organisation through Outward Bound (Veld and Vlei) at Elgin and Wilderness. I am speculating and cannot verify this.
In the early part of 1968 John introduced me to Cedric Amoils who was already involved in Veld and Vlei, specifically at Greystone, and with Ian Webster, a teacher at Estcourt High School. They were looking for instructors for the July camp and specifically for a map-reading instructor. Being a geography teacher I enthusiastically agreed and joined the local Johannesburg organising committee.
The first camp I went to as a map-reading instructor was in July 1968 at Greystone. I cannot recall the camp number, but the following year in 1969 I again volunteered and joined the G7 camp in December. This was followed up with G9 in December 1970 and again in December 1972 on G13. I have the beer mugs which confirm these dates.
My involvement with Veld and Vlei was a long 54 years ago so recalling details is difficult. However the whole experience on those camps was very rewarding as an instructor, seeing the impact they had on the trainees. As instructors we were able to see the changes in confidence and the emergence of leadership over three weeks. The highlight was ending the course traversing the Berg from Giants Castle to Cathedral Peak. It was a rite of passage and in winter a huge challenge for all of us, instructors and trainees alike.
I recall the typical first day of the three week camp when the trainees split up into groups, given a map and a compass bundled into a bakkie, blindfolded and driven some way away from Greytsone and dropped. They had to make their own way back. It was a baptism by fire but gave them a taste of what to expect.
Each course provided the trainees with a variety of experiences included map-reading, rock face climbing, sailing on the Wagendrift dam, fitness training and developing team work on the obstacle course. In combination it exposed them to the dynamics of working with and respecting the environment, and each other. Cold showers in winter, mastering the challenges of sailing and overcoming fear on a rock face all contributed to their development. The “foofie” slide, climbing net, climbing wall and going through the closed tunnel added excitement to the experience. These all tested individual resolve and an ability to plan and work together; a small taste of what their lives were going to be exposed to after the exhilaration of Veld and Vlei.
As I said earlier, the changes in so many of the boys who joined the camps was very apparent. They all seemed to leave hugely enthusiastic after the experience, and a whole lot more knowledgeable and confident about themselves and their leadership potential. It was a great grounding for life.
Some of the personalities whom I worked with and who were involved in the Veld and Vlei organisation included Jumbo Swan who lived at Greyston, Iain Kellman, Cedric Amoils, John Hall,Ian Webster and Ray Basson. There were many others who gave up their time to become involved in providing the boys with a wonderful experience. No doubt there are many beer mugs gracing the shelves of pubs of those who had the privilege of being involved with a great organisation.
I have fond memories of the four camps I attended and have little doubt that they also contributed to my own development as a newly qualified teacher.
Rob Birt found an old box of his 35mm slides and sent these very good photos.
Early Pioneers
John Hall
Submitted by Hugh Solomon G8 John Hall taught at Krugersdorp High School for 39 Years. During many of those years, particularly the 1970 and 1980s John was very involved with Veld and Vlei, Estcourt. I attended G8 in July 1970 and he was the warden of our course.
John matriculated in Cape Town in 1963 where he was headboy at Westerford High School and played for the first team hockey and cricket. After university at Wits and a BA degree he joined Krugersdorp High School in 1969 as a newly qualified teacher, and stayed there, holding positions such as senior housemaster of the girls’ hostel, head of department educational guidance, and senior deputy headmaster.
John was on the administrative council of the Veld and Vlei Adventure School Trust.
Many pupils from KHS attended Veld and Vlei courses at Greystone. The school also formed their own personalised courses at Greystone to promote leadership training and outdoor education. Such courses went under the banner of inter alia Adventure Camp, Boys’ Trip to the Berg, and Prefects’ Camp. John was the driving force behind these initiatives which were very successful.
Lex Morton from KHS attended course G9 in December 1970. He wrote an article for the school magazine that year saying “We can see the immense value of a movement like this. It is designed to develop those particular qualities of leadership, initiative and so on, which are evident in every human along the right lines. I would recommend this Veld and Vlei course to every boy over sixteen years of age who has the opportunity of attending one”.
I asked Lex Morton 50 years after he had attended G9, to reflect on John Hall the man. He replied: “John was a brilliant history teacher and the history of Outward Bound was well known to him. He had a love for teaching which extended way beyond the classroom and he believed strongly in the growth of the whole soul. Character and leadership development was a passion for him.
He was a hostel master who knew his boys well and he was able to identify those who would contribute and benefit by attending Veld and Vlei. During those years Krugersdorp High had a number of very active and successful service clubs. If John didn’t serve, he certainly had connections because the clubs gave us amazing support.
John was, together with Rob Birt, forever in the Berg. History trips, geography trips, staff team-building etc. He eventually became deputy principal at the school and always preferred his classroom to the office. He became an absolute legend and had a profound influence on the lives of so many students. My three children passed through John’s hands and his influence on them was as great as it had been on me. What I found fascinating was that guys like him and Rob Birt had all these strengths and yet they were youngsters themselves. At a guess I think they were first year teachers when I went to Krugersdorp High School”.
Cedric was asked to dip into his memories of Veld and Vlei, Greystone, and he has shared some below.
In 1972 I became very involved with Veld and Vlei Adventure Schools. I was still in the Rotary International movement and was on the Board of my club. At a board meeting, the president asked for approval of a donation of R 10 000 to Veld and Vlei and I asked questions about the organisation. All I was told was it was a leadership course for young boys. I stated that I would not consent to the expenditure until I knew more about the purpose of the organisation. I was unable to get satisfactory information and used my veto to stop the donation. I finally telephoned Haywood Tanner-Tremaine the chairman in Estcourt and was invited to spend the December school holidays observing a course. I took my whole family – my caravan and my sailing yacht to Estcourt to see what Veld and Vlei was all about. Once we had set up our caravan and tents on a lovely shady site near the main house we were introduced to Henry and Jo Hyde. They were handling the cooking for the summer camp. Henry asked me what I did for a living and I told him I was professionally a Land Surveyor and Town Planner and property valuator but worked for Metboard. The next day the warden John Hall came to see me and said “My map reading instructor has let me down would you please assist and do the course for us”. It was only one lecture of one hour each day they were in camp and the lecture was at 8.30 a.m. so my day with the family was not messed up. I agreed and was required to meet with the other instructors every evening at 6.00pm for the warden’s debriefing of the day’s activity. Needless to say when I returned to Johannesburg I approved the R10 000 to Veld and Vlei.
The following year I was asked to be the Sailing Instructor and we again made the trip to Estcourt. It was during this trip that I was asked to climb to Bannerman’s Pass and ensure that the patrols went down the right valley to reach Giant’s Castle Pass and not wander into Lesotho. I decided to take my son Howard and Henry Hyde’s son Edward with me. The boys were 12 years old and I considered them old enough to cope with the climb. I was to climb to the hut with two other instructors (for safety reasons). Trevor was just 10 years and he nagged and nagged to be included in the hike. I eventually caved in and agreed he could join us on the hike. We had been walking for about 35 minutes when Trevor started to cry and said “Dad I cannot go any further”. I stopped every one and then addressed Trevor “Son can you see the car from here? – Here are the keys you can walk back to the car and sleep there tonight and we will join you tomorrow afternoon.” He responded” I can’t be by myself all night”. I then pointed to the tent I was carrying above my back pack. “Son, I can pitch this tent here for you “. “No” he blubbered “I’m scared to be by myself”. I then took off my wrist watch and gave it to him and said “OK then you will be our timekeeper, we hike for twelve minutes and rest for three minutes and we start on the hour. There were just three minutes to 11.00 a.m. This system kept him going and we reached the hut without further incident.
The hut was fortunately not occupied so we did not have to pitch our tents. It was 3.00 p.m. when we reached our destination and it was a hot summer’s day. I said to the boys “ Guys how about a swim in the stream” Trevor piped up “ Dad we did not bring costumes” I replied “We don’t need them here “ We all stripped and jumped into the freezing pool.
The sun went down and we all returned to the interior of the hut. It was time for supper and I asked the two lads with me what they had brought for dinner. There were two cans of tomato soup and two tins of bully beef. There were also a lot of Anderson’s biscuits – commonly known dog biscuits because they were hard. They were extremely nutritious and great when dunked in hot tea. It was decided to combine the tinned items into a strong broth and dunk the dog biscuits into it. Everyone except Trevor tucked into the meal. He complained and complained but was told that is your dinner and if you won’t eat it you will go to sleep hungry. He campaigned to eat his survival rations – chocolate and dried fruit – without success. He went to sleep hungry.
Next morning we were all up with the rising sun and I made ready the breakfast. Pro-Nutro with milk – powdered milk mixed with water. Trevor again put his nose up at eating and when I left to climb the pass he was sitting in the corner of the hut sulking.
I climbed Bannerman’s Pass in veldskoens, and on coming down I slipped in the spree and broke a toe on my left foot. I was in agony when I reached the hut. Howard ran out to meet me and with a huge smile shouted “Dad, Trevor ate a huge bowl of Pro-Nutro about an hour ago”. At the hut I managed to strap my broken toe together with another toe and got a little relief from the pain. Trevor was a star on the journey back to the car. He propped me up like a crutch and thus helped me to take the weight of my left foot. He showed me that he was old enough to participate in the hike and the moment of crisis he rose to the occasion.
My involvement with Veld and Vlei increased with time and I was asked to join the Executive of the organisation. A meeting of the Board was called and Heywood, Henry, Alan and I travelled to Sedgefield and Elgin for meetings with the Cape Executive. We drove from Estcourt via Bloemfontein to Colesberg. Alan was the Natal Education Department’s geography examiner and he took over as the map reader for the trip. Some how he got us on the wrong road and we had to ask an old African how to get back on the road to the Cape. We were told to make a left turn at the next farm road and travel south until we reached the railway line. The gravel road gave way to a farm track and then we had to open farm gates and at one stage drove between the farm house and the barn. We were travelling due south according to Henry’s compass and eventually saw a lone light in the distance. When we reached the light it was a railway worker’s cottage and as we pulled up in front of the house the old Afrikaner shouted” Sannie, bring die koffie en branderwyn –ons het gaste.” After coffee and a stiff brandy we were shown how to reach the N1 to Cape Town.
Our visit to Sedgefield Camp site was uneventful. We were amazed at the quality of their facilities, luxury compared to Wagendrift. Our next stop was Elgin, the Appletizer farm where they held the course for Coloureds. We were taken to the camp by the Cape Town Committee – Commander Maynell and his wife. After inspecting the camp we wandered down to the dam to view a sailing exercise. I noticed that one yacht was stuck in the reeds and immediately stripped off my clothes and swam to the yacht and its crew. I boarded the small vessel and removed the rudder and centre board and then held the sail against the wind and the boat reversed out of the reeds. When the yacht was safely in the middle of the dam I replaced the centre board and the rudder and dived overboard and swam back to my clothes. I used my vest as a towel and got dressed. That evening at the cocktail party in our honour Alan introduced me as the instructor who taught the young Coloured men to sail backwards.
After the visit to all the Veld and Vlei sites I discussed with my other executive members the possibility of us running a multi racial course. I received overwhelming support and arranged a meeting with the then Prime Minister John Vorster (1966 – 1978). He was very helpful but suggested that we first do separate courses for Indians and Blacks so that we could assess the differences relative to culture and physical ability. The Indian community were instantly supportive.
I then approached Gatsha Buthalezi the leader of the Zulu Nation. He was totally opposed to a course for Blacks even as a lead up to a fully multi racial course. I set up the first Indian course with the help of the Indian community – they gave me the names of young men who they claimed would make good instructors. I arranged a instructors’ camp during the school winter holidays. Most of the candidates were student teachers and they were very keen to participate in the training. We arrived at Wagendrift camp on a Saturday afternoon and I took them for a long hike of 15 kilometres. I had two white instructors with me, John Thomson my chief instructor and Gareth Peddie my climbing instructor. The new recruits did well on the hike. We observed that they had strong lower body strength – all of them we assumed were soccer players. The next morning John woke the camp up at 5.30 am and shouted “Everybody up we are going for a run” The run was down to the dam. Arriving at the water’s edge he called out “Everybody strip and go for a swim”. Gareth, John and I stripped naked and the candidates just stood there. John then looked at me and said “Mr. Warden, will you show the guys how it’s done!” I walked into the water until waist deep and then rolled onto my back – this allows your back to take the cold and you can expand your lungs. John then shouted” Hey guys if the boss can do it you’d better follow suit.” Very reluctantly they undressed and got into the water. We discovered that not a single one of them could swim, hence their reluctance to get in the water. Swimming lessons were incorporated into the Indian course. Another adjustment we had to make was on the assault course. The upper body strength of the Indians was much less than the white kids and not one Indian could do a chin up. The final problem that we had to solve was related to diet. We could not let them have their very hot curries and we had to adjust our menus to allow some mild curries. The adaption process went smoothly and that summer we ran a very successful Indian course.
Two years later I got permission to run a multi racial course. This was a major achievement in Apartheid South Africa. I was proud to have been chosen to lead this experiment. The course started on a Saturday and then on Sunday morning we opened with a non-denominational church service. I had arranged for the local Catholic priest to take the church service. At about midnight I received a call from the good minister to tell me he was unable to meet his commitment as he had to be at the bedside of one of his parishioners who was dying. I immediately went to our small library armed with a Gideon Bible and Reg Pearse’s “Barrier of Spears” and proceeded to write a suitable church service. Reg’s book provided me with some outstanding motivational pieces. I was fortunate to have read the book before and remembered some of the good passages.
Sunday morning’s church service went off well and at morning tea break my executive colleagues pulled me aside and in unison said ”Well done Rabbi” The nick name has stuck all these years and even today when I get a call from Henry Hyde he always says “Hullo Rabbi”
Every course has its problems and also some lovely stories to relate. My first Indian course was going well and I as arden paid a visit to my climbing instructor Gareth Peddy. He was having difficulty with a couple of trainees when it came to abseiling.
He said to me “Mr. Warden please show them how easy it is to do the job”. Now I had never abseiled before but remembered the great abseiling scenes in movies with Michael Caine. I took hold of the rope and bounced down the climb like a veteran. That evening Gareth called me aside and said “I asked you to show them how to abseil – I didn’t expect you to show off and make my task more difficult.”
Then on my first multi racial course I had a patrol leader at my first meeting complain that one of his members stank. I was aware of the possible racial problem; black body odour is very different from white body odour. I asked the leader to identify the culprit; fortunately it was the young Pom lad from the St George’s home for orphans. I gave the patrol leader guy a cake of Lifebouy soap and told him to take his whole patrol to the showers and to wash the Pom and his clothes. In another group I received a complaint from the two very bright black guys that a whitey was taking the “mickey” out of the map reading instructor. On investigation I discovered that the whitey in this case was another boy from St George’s home and he was actually rather backward. So I gave the two black guys instructions to assist the poor soul with his map reading exercises.
The same white guy was brilliant in the aerial log-walking exercise and the two black guys had a fear of heights. Help this time round was given by the whitey to his two mentors at map reading. It was lovely to see the patience that he had when helping his two black friends.
Then there was a big Afrikaner, who was a born leader and had an amazing rapport with his patrol. In his patrol was an Indian guy Ramesh. Now Koos, the leader could not pronouns Ramesh and he said to him “Listen friend, I battle to say your name, so for this camp you will be called Joe.” There was no objection from Ramesh and he became Joe for the duration of the camp. When I was debriefing Koos’s patrol I asked Joe to say a few works to his mates. Joe stood up so that each guy could see him and hear him. He then addressed the gathering “Guys you have to promise me that even though you have my phone number you will not call for at least three weeks.” They all looked at him in dismay and then he said “Guys it is going to take me three weeks to convince my dear mother that I am no longer Ramesh but I am Joe.”
Lee Haldeman attended the December course in 1971. He writes:
We arrived by train from Pretoria late morning. Taken to Greystone. Had lunch and then were put on the floor of an old beaten up Kombi. We were blindfolded with socks and driven around in circles for quite a while. Then dropped off with a map and a compass. I had some exposure to map reading before so started on analysing where we were, but nothing made sense. So we asked a farmer and were pointed in the right direction. After a couple of hours of walking/jogging, we got back to Greystone – about 4 in the afternoon. The instructors eventually sent out search parties about 8 in the evening to find the last guys and bring them back. I found out that the compass no longer worked and we had been dropped off the edge of the map that they provided to us. Now I know their intention was to deliberately fool us. And that was just the start!
I attended with Michael Sunshine – we were both sent by our school, Clapham High in Pretoria. I lost contact with Michael – think he went into medicine. I think the patrol leader for Dick King was Bobby Hartslief – I think he was the head boy designate for King Edward School. Can’t remember the names of the instructors. Have some memories that the map reading instructor was a land surveyor and the PT instructor was a staff sergeant PT instructor from the army.
I remember with great pride the time spent working at Veld and Vlei, Greystone! My Veld and Vlei friends and colleagues are among the finest people with whom I have ever had the privilege and pleasure to work during my years in education in South Africa, New Zealand, Nigeria, Azerbaijan and Russia.
It is well known that Outward Bound’s evolution came via a joint effort between the celebrated German educator, Kurt Hahn, and the British shipping baron, Sir Lawrence Holt, to teach young British sailors vital survival skills during World War II. With a curriculum largely based on Hahn’s belief that character development is just as important as academic achievement, a rigorous programme of experiential learning in the post-war period evolved. Hahn discovered that people put in challenging outdoor situations gained confidence, redefined their own perceptions of their personal capabilities, learnt to demonstrate compassion, and developed a remarkable spirit of camaraderie with their peers.
As you know, during the apartheid years, South Africans were compelled to develop their own unique programme and the pioneers of Veld and Vlei are to be commended for doing just that! Not only did they create a rigorous programme designed to develop character in our country’s youth, they set about breaking down cultural and racial barriers by making Veld and Vlei an inclusive organisation! It was so inspiring to observe youngsters from South Africa’s rich diversity of cultural and ethnic backgrounds discovering about themselves the very qualities that Kurt Hahn had discovered so many years before. In my view, given the country’s current challenges, South Africa is now in as much need of a similar programme as it was during the apartheid years!
My association with Veld and Vlei goes back to my years as a pupil at Springs Boys’ High School, when I attended the summer course G5. As a student teacher, I returned to Veld and Vlei as an instructor in the mid-1970s and served on numerous courses. With a view to facilitating sponsorship for trainees, I also liaised with the Rotary Club in the north-eastern suburbs of Johannesburg, while serving as a house master at Jeppe High School for Boys. I served as chief instructor of the first Veld and Vlei course for girls, but, unfortunately, I can’t remember the name of the very competent lady warden. Henry and Jo Hyde were naturally very much involved in the planning and organising of the first girls’ course, which proved to be a resounding success. As a teacher in the Natal Midlands, I served on the Estcourt Veld and Vlei Committee with Haywood Tanner-Tremaine, Alan Webster, Henry and Jo Hyde, and others, in the early 1980s.
It would be very fair to say that the Jo and Henry Hyde were legends. They threw their very all into Veld and Vlei, Greystone. I managed to track down their four children who are scattered around the globe: Edward Curry-Hyde, Catherine Curry-Hyde, Charles Curry-Hyde and Elizabeth Curry-Hyde and was thrilled when the emails eventually started flowing. Read some of theirinteresting memories.
Charles:
The core people poured enormous amounts of time energy (and cash) into V&V, but it didn’t thrive or survive.I remember the meetings at home in Estcourt, where budgets were a constant problem. All of the vehicles for example were ‘contributed’ either people like the Tanner-Tremaines, Eddie Peen (I think) and Henry. They really believed in what they were doing. They were also all very determined people who didn’t like being told anything and Alan Webster held all this together.
I am sure you know how hard it is to explain to people (… and my children, despite me banging on about it), how unusual mixed-race courses and indeed the whole of apartheid was. I keep saying that we need to remember that it is possible to condition a whole nation into thinking that most inhuman things (Modern day Russia…?). It was doubly strange thing living through it, as we were in such a distorted society. I remember somebody saying that V&V was the first time he’d ever been told what to do by a person with a coloured skin! How V&V managed to curtail lifetimes of conditioning into apartheid thinking for each of those three weeks, I do not know. I guess that they all believed in change and would be call liberal humanists now. In his newspaper, The Estcourt Gazette, Henry wrote some pretty risky stuff. The the local council prevented use of the town pool by Indian children and Henry wrote in his editorial that perhaps they were scared the water would turn brown. He got a visit from the local enforcer Meneer Barnard, who said that that was not funny or acceptable!
Henry took over a small news agency business in Estcourt on his mother’s insistence, midway through his degree in accounting (and drinking). My understanding is that prior to V&V Henry had spent quite a bit of time at the golf club and V&V gave him a focus. As a child I remember that he would go out there after work several times a week throughout the year for a 2-3 hours to manage it. Orbed the gardener was there permanently and Henry modified the ride-on mover to suit his injured foot. Isaac the cook was in fact Zulu royalty, as I remember taking him home north of Ladysmith several times with Henry, and I saw his large kraal and witnessed the huge welcome from his wives and children. I took Thandi Buthelezi (princess) to my matric dance at Michaelhouse and she knew him. Jo, Henry, Catherine, Lizzie and (to less extent) I got to know him and he was a man of enormous dignity and quiet power. As he got older he would sit beside the Aga and run the ship. I remember that he bought the washing ladies with him from home – I guess that some might have been wives.
This reminds me of another rather mad aspect of Henry – he didn’t see things like age and experience as an impediment. At 16 or 17 ish he put Catherine and then Liz in charge of catering for a course with 80-90 people! Ed led a course at about 20 and I taught sailing and rock climbing at 17 singlehanded, to happy campers my age! This applied to pretty much everyone there. Can you imagine the Health and Safety exec’s response to that today! But they didn’t kill anyone during that time. Sadly there was an accident a few years after we left, which led to questions about what they were doing. There were plenty of near misses though, some of which I saw. Did it leave scars? A few, but it also made us all very resilient.
One of the big motivations for Henry and Jo was that V&V brought a constant stream of really amazing people to our home. Estcourt was insular, yet we had eccentric, passionate people from all over the world dropping in, staying, sometimes for weeks and that made our lives really rich. The middle room of our house was a kind of expedition staging post with CB radios, and kit, and piles of things coming and going.
After Henry left South Africa for Australia things changed for him. He drove a courier van for many years and worked until he could draw a pension. He and Jo then caravanned around Aus and lived very simply. He always had mad schemes on the go. Chicken manure maturing in a vat, bits of woodwork projects and so on. We spoke at his funeral, and read our tributes to a rather stunned group of church goers! Someone said to me that it was a little unusual to laugh at a funeral. We started writing it with the usual sad stuff and then said, hang on a minute Henry was a very funny man (in many senses) and we needed to talk about that.
Henry was always very wistful about V&V. He wrote a history of our family and I don’t think said very much about it. His departure from SA in 1989/90 was difficult. His accountant at the time explained to me that the family business had run out of cash, in part due to the funds and time that had been diverted to V&V, but also poor property development decisions, in the midst of very high inflation, caused by apartheid. Henry funded a vegetable patch to make the courses more self-sufficient in front of the Greystone house, for example, and fenced it (with an 8 foot Eland-proof fence). Henry didn’t do things by half! I remember some people on the committee being rather unhappy that this was just done without the committee’s.approval. The reality of this change in our family finances was stark for me and my siblings. We lived a comfortable life with what Henry described as a money tree in the back yard! That all changed and looking back, if it hadn’t we might have not all have struck out on our own, as we did.
I think about Henry a great deal. He never appeared to be sad or knocked down by anything, even the big change to his now Australian life. I wish he had been given more credit for what he did. In the UK, he and others would have received medals or even knighthoods for their efforts, visits from HM and all that would have helped the organisation to keep going. I remember that they approached Outward Bound UK, who chose not associate with V&V due to sanctions, even though it was an agency for change. V&V could almost certainly have raised cash in the UK now, 2023. But there we are. My father was a truly amazing man – a prince. We have had to rethink “why we do things” after his death.
Catherine:
You have certainly prodded and poked the memory bank!
I remember going to Veld and Vlei with Henry and Jo all my childhood, and spent most holidays involved in some way.
I was V&V caterer with Bev Field in for 1978/1979 once and then I remember being thrown into it alone (1979/1980) when either Bev or the caterer lined up was not able to come or got sick. I would have been 15/16. I think Jo had returned to Australia during one of those times to see her family. Jo took on the catering role for many V&V courses when we were younger. We would all be packed up at the beginning of the holidays and moved out to Greystone for the course duration. The old house was cold but had the roaring fire in the living room keeping everyone warm during the winter courses. I remember packing hike rations in the main house back kitchen with piles of “dog biscuits”.
Henry was instrumental in the infrastructure of V&V, much of which is still standing today. The trainees went from sleeping in tents on the terraces to rondavels which were built in approximately 1976. I also remember the construction of the dining hall and kitchen. That was an extension of the old bluestone building that housed the quarter master’s store. I can still smell the manky smell of that room! The power generator gave him endless hours of grief! (to use his words). I remember the silence at night when the generator was turned off.
I learnt to drive when I was about 15, on the road from the Estcourt municipality boundary to Greystone. In those days one did not need to hold a license on rural roads, only if you were driving in town. Henry used to come up the drive way at home at 5.15 every night and I used to head to V&V with him. He drove a little Renault bakkie with the umbrella gear stick.
I reflect back now on my mother’s resilience living in South Africa. She came from a very sheltered upbringing in Australia and pretty much everything she did with my father was out of her comfort zone. I am very grateful for the upbringing we had and the exposure we had to so many things, and like Charles said, the endless flow of people in our home staying for extended periods of time was extraordinary and enriched all of our lives. Henry and Jo were incredibly generous people, from always having enough dinner for a crowd, to there always being beer in the fridge for anyone dropping in.
Elizabeth:
I have just read through the blog and had a fabulous journey down memory lane. Cedric Amoils had told me about your blog so it was wonderful to see it and read through the memories and photographs.
I did return to V&V when my uncle Mike died, am guessing in 2008 or 2009. It was then a Christian camp, I think it is now a children’s camp for school parties as well as wedding venue. I noticed with joy that the old rondavels and the rather ugly dining hall are still very much still in use. I remember well the building of those, particularly the rondavels. And the uneven floor in the dining room – Henry was not much of a level floor kind of person. Things were very much made “good enough” – and I can see my mother’s eyes rolling! There were always large puddles on that floor when the rains came, as I suspect the roof wasn’t up to much either.
I noticed on my visit that a swimming pool had been added, along with a chapel and other buildings. The assault course looked very much the same as it used to look albeit with an electric fence around it. The views of Moor Park and Wagendrift were of course just as beautiful as ever! The house remains as lovely as it ever was. A large part of my childhood was spent in that house, I expect more time there than in our home in Estcourt! I recall every inch of it, as one does.
I will see what I can find in photos etc. And scribble some memories for you too.
Well done on getting this together. I can say with absolute certainty that Henry would be utterly delighted with this, as would Jo. Sadly Henry died in 2019 aged 85 and Jo less than a year later in 2020 aged 83.
The Hyde’s lounge on typical Sunday morning
1978
Edward, Charles, Catherine, Elizabeth, Henry; and Dick Lavers
On Wednesday we had a family service at the crematorium. This was taken by our aunt Christine, who just happened to be visiting Jo and Henry last weekend. She has been an incredible support to us during this week.
Today, we are determined, with your help, to celebrate the life of our Dad, Henry.
Henry asked that we do not have a eulogy of any sort at his memorial service. However, there are people here from all parts of Henry’s life, many of whom have travelled long journeys to be with us. And few people have knowledge of the 85 years of this unique man we call Dad, Grandpa and Henry.
So for this reason we have decided, in true Henry Hyde fashion, to ignore this advice.
What we have put together is from our own reflections and from the many many messages of condolence we have had from people right across the world. His standout characteristics were many but there are a few that everyone seems to agree on – his huge sense of adventure, his generosity, his loyalty are just a start.
Henry was born on 14th Feb 1934 the eldest son of Rose and Ted. Ted had left Ireland aged 20 for the new world of South Africa with its abundant open space and, of course, the diamond fields. Henry’s positivity and sense of adventure were clearly in his genes.
Henry’s early years were spent on a farm in Schweizer Reineke, the remotest of remote places in the north western part of South Africa. His father Ted was a pig and arable farmer with a little diamond prospecting done on the side. Henry’s first friends were the African boys on the farm. His mother insisted that they moved to Natal when she realised his first language was not English.
Henry’s main school years were at Michaelhouse a place where he was happy and where he lived school life to the full, playing all sports including rugby, cricket, hockey and swimming. He tried tennis but was a little too impatient for that.
He went to Natal University to study Engineering. He told me, after I had passed my first year Engineering, that he learnt how to party in his first year, perfected that in his second year and then his father said enough of that.
Where upon he left and set off on his first life adventure to Canada in 1957 where he drove earth movers. He then went to England where in 1958 he famously met Jo whilst lying across the stairs of a boarding house they were both in, waiting for their communal bathroom to become free. She asked him to move and in his characteristic lack of style insisted that if she wanted to pass she would need to step over him. Clearly she did, and they married in 1960 in Melbourne, Australia.
Catherine
After marrying they spent a wet and cold winter in Melbourne and then set off for their first life adventure to live in Estcourt, a small town in the Drakensberg mountains of South Africa. This was not an easy decision for Mum. However, her bravery and resilience is legendary and that continues to this day.
Edward was born in 1961, I in 1962, Peter in 1965 and the twins in 1967. Sadly Peter lived for just a few days.
To Henry, I was known as Bear, Edward as Teddy-kins, Charles as Charlie-boy and Elizabeth, only ever as Diddy, which endures to this day.
As well as being a father, Henry spent these years building the business he bought from his father. It included a book shop, a local newspaper and later on various business ventures with his younger brothers Pat and Michael – to whom he was very close throughout his life
Henry liked to do things his own creative way. For example, he was told by the local council to get on and use a prime vacant plot of land that he owned in the middle of town so he created an enormous vegetable garden which fed us and the families of his many staff for years. Clearly, that was not quite what the council had in mind!
He even found time for a different sort of adventure in the form of motor rally racing with his friend Geoff Mortimer. It always amused us that he was the navigator, which was never his strongest skill.
However, his real passion was introducing adventure to others. In 1968 he became very involved in Veld and Vlei, a voluntary organisation that offered outward bound adventure camps to 16-18 year olds. Over 20 years these courses touched thousands of lives. And introduced many people to racial integration, at a time when apartheid was in full force and a good 20 years before the end of that regime. Alan and Cedric, both here today, were very involved throughout the Veld and Vlei years and have remained life-long friends to Jo and Henry.
Veld and Vlei was an organisation that relied on the generosity of the volunteers. There was no limit to Henry’s generosity for Veld and Vlei – both in terms of time and money. Henry did everything. If a new toilet block was needed, he became a plumber, if a power generator broke he was an electrician and he was living proof of the fact that swallowing petrol whilst syphoning is not harmful.
Henry’s own self-belief extended to his belief in those around him and to us. I was thrown the job of chief caterer for a camp of 120 hungry boys, Edward was given the task of camp Warden and Elizabeth and Charles were told to run the sailing and rock climbing activities – all of these before we were 21.
The hikes in the Drakensberg mountains were a key feature of this time, each one more adventurous than the last. Although they happened at various moments in the year the Easter hike was always the main one. Mum you might want to shut your ears – we all have fond memories of being fed snakebite mutti, a mix of coffee and Brandy, high in a cave overlooking a beautiful scene after a long day’s walk
When away from Veld and Vlei Henry was happiest stirring his potjie on the open fire beneath the tree at home at 13 Brokensha Road.
Henry and Jo created a home that brought a huge variety of people into our lives. This ranged from people he might have picked up on the motorway, chosen on the basis of the quality of the rucksack they carried, or drop-ins at the shop who only came in for a good read and were offered a bed for the night. Sometimes they stayed months, usually gainfully employed on a DIY project. Painting the house yellow was particularly memorable. They usually also worked at Veld and Vlei. At their heart they were all adventurers with broad life experience, this gave us a unique view of the world from an isolated South Africa.
Along with these were others who lived with us as part of the family including many Rotary Exchange students. In addition, Louise, Charmaine and Fred stayed for years and all to this day, along with many others, regard Henry and Jo as second parents.
They bought a beach house in 1980 on the Natal south coast, not far from their lifelong friends the Saxby’s. We are pleased to have Alan Saxby here today. Henry famously named the house “Hyde Tyde” a unilateral decision after we had all agreed on a different name.
Happy holidays and many building projects were completed at that house with brothers Pat and Michael and their wives Glenys and Anne and the cousins, including Robert, who is here.
Charles
In 1989 Henry and Jo moved to Australia when Henry was 55 and a whole new adventure began. These were difficult times – Henry had to reinvented himself several times yet stayed true to himself. For 5 years he drove a courier van from dawn to dusk where every customer was his friend. His resilience and good humour were extraordinary and an example to us all.
Life began to settle down. He got to know Jo’s side of the family including Chris and Ian and their family. We are grateful to Robert Andrew and James for driving through the night to be with us today.
We had 9 grandchildren between the four of us and he was happiest when lying on the floor with his grandchildren clambering over him or chatting over a meal and enjoying his family around him.
An enduring memory of all of the younger grandchildren is sitting on their Grandpa’s lap amidst the chaos of young family life, snuggled around his big tummy
Henry always found magic in everyone. At times this was sometimes challenging to us. On reflection, this ability was one of his defining characteristics.
Like all good fathers he advised freely, starting with “Charlie what you want to do is…” He was a great sounding board and if you had a big new idea you would be guaranteed a viewpoint and often an even bigger one to build on it
Following his time as a courier he and Jo set off on their biggest adventure to date. Our hillbilly parents criss-crossed Australia towing a caravan for 6 years stopping where and when they wanted to, sometimes for just a day or two, sometimes for weeks. Jo possibly did more knitting and embroidery than most hillbillies but hillbillies they were. Henry was particularly proud of the moment crossing the Nullabor when a trucky said “nah, he’ll be right mate, he’s a real bushy”.
Their volunteering didn’t stop. They got very excited at the opportunity to volunteer at the 2000 Olympics. It didn’t fuss Henry that the role he was assigned was gate attendant at the kayaking where he was stuck in a hot and dusty field far from the action. He couldn’t have been prouder of the uniform they were given including a rather fine hat that he wore for many years
. Elizabeth
They settled in Toronto in 2006, carefully chosen as the spot they loved the most of all of their travels and the communities they had visited. It was a great joy for us that you welcomed them and have cared for them as you have.
He found his tribe here – this was a place where he could share his passions such as his insatiable curiosity for the world and what makes it work. He was a prolific reader of The Economist, newspapers, novels and history. Sadly his eye sight curtailed his reading in the last few years but The Economist still got a thorough going over on his iPad each week
As far as Henry was concerned watching sport was a participatory activity. We were never sure who he was supporting especially when Australia and South Africa played against one another. One thing was certain, the referee was always terrible, or he was cheating or, more often than not, both at the same time.
He loved and hated new technology in equal measure but was always keen to embrace some new gadget. We dreaded the phone calls asking for remote support and are grateful that in the last few years his grandson Ben has patiently provided on-call IT support whenever Grandpa needed it
He was involved in many groups and activities including this Church and was well known for his onion slicing for sausage sizzles
He has been the main carer for Jo during her period of ill-health in the last 2 years, ably supported by a large and loving group of local friends, something for which we are also very grateful
His love for Jo was obvious to all who knew them. He never stopped telling her and us how much he loved her and how proud he was of her.
The legacy Henry has left us is extraordinary in so many respects, some more surprising than others. One has been a rubbish bin full of fermenting chicken droppings – which we have had to deal with this week. If you have enjoyed his prize tomatoes you have been the beneficiary of it’s magic. And if we smell a bit odd today, that will explain it.
So how to summarise the man we call our father, husband, grandfather, uncle and friend? We could think of no better way than to read something sent to us by a dear friend, Iain Kelman, which he wrote upon hearing of Henry’s passing.
It would be very fair to say that the Jo and Henry Hyde were legends. They threw their very all into Veld and Vlei, Greystone. I managed to track down their four children who are scattered around the globe: Edward Curry-Hyde, Catherine Curry-Hyde, Charles Curry-Hyde and Elizabeth Curry-Hyde and was thrilled when the emails eventually started flowing. Read some of theirinteresting memories.
Charles:
The core people poured enormous amounts of time energy (and cash) into V&V, but it didn’t thrive or survive.I remember the meetings at home in Estcourt, where budgets were a constant problem. All of the vehicles for example were ‘contributed’ either people like the Tanner-Tremaines, Eddie Peen (I think) and Henry. They really believed in what they were doing. They were also all very determined people who didn’t like being told anything and Alan Webster held all this together.
I am sure you know how hard it is to explain to people (… and my children, despite me banging on about it), how unusual mixed-race courses and indeed the whole of apartheid was. I keep saying that we need to remember that it is possible to condition a whole nation into thinking that most inhuman things (Modern day Russia…?). It was doubly strange thing living through it, as we were in such a distorted society. I remember somebody saying that V&V was the first time he’d ever been told what to do by a person with a coloured skin! How V&V managed to curtail lifetimes of conditioning into apartheid thinking for each of those three weeks, I do not know. I guess that they all believed in change and would be call liberal humanists now. In his newspaper, The Estcourt Gazette, Henry wrote some pretty risky stuff. The the local council prevented use of the town pool by Indian children and Henry wrote in his editorial that perhaps they were scared the water would turn brown. He got a visit from the local enforcer Meneer Barnard, who said that that was not funny or acceptable!
Henry took over a small news agency business in Estcourt on his mother’s insistence, midway through his degree in accounting (and drinking). My understanding is that prior to V&V Henry had spent quite a bit of time at the golf club and V&V gave him a focus. As a child I remember that he would go out there after work several times a week throughout the year for a 2-3 hours to manage it. Orbed the gardener was there permanently and Henry modified the ride-on mover to suit his injured foot. Isaac the cook was in fact Zulu royalty, as I remember taking him home north of Ladysmith several times with Henry, and I saw his large kraal and witnessed the huge welcome from his wives and children. I took Thandi Buthelezi (princess) to my matric dance at Michaelhouse and she knew him. Jo, Henry, Catherine, Lizzie and (to less extent) I got to know him and he was a man of enormous dignity and quiet power. As he got older he would sit beside the Aga and run the ship. I remember that he bought the washing ladies with him from home – I guess that some might have been wives.
This reminds me of another rather mad aspect of Henry – he didn’t see things like age and experience as an impediment. At 16 or 17 ish he put Catherine and then Liz in charge of catering for a course with 80-90 people! Ed led a course at about 20 and I taught sailing and rock climbing at 17 singlehanded, to happy campers my age! This applied to pretty much everyone there. Can you imagine the Health and Safety exec’s response to that today! But they didn’t kill anyone during that time. Sadly there was an accident a few years after we left, which led to questions about what they were doing. There were plenty of near misses though, some of which I saw. Did it leave scars? A few, but it also made us all very resilient.
One of the big motivations for Henry and Jo was that V&V brought a constant stream of really amazing people to our home. Estcourt was insular, yet we had eccentric, passionate people from all over the world dropping in, staying, sometimes for weeks and that made our lives really rich. The middle room of our house was a kind of expedition staging post with CB radios, and kit, and piles of things coming and going.
After Henry left South Africa for Australia things changed for him. He drove a courier van for many years and worked until he could draw a pension. He and Jo then caravanned around Aus and lived very simply. He always had mad schemes on the go. Chicken manure maturing in a vat, bits of woodwork projects and so on. We spoke at his funeral, and read our tributes to a rather stunned group of church goers! Someone said to me that it was a little unusual to laugh at a funeral. We started writing it with the usual sad stuff and then said, hang on a minute Henry was a very funny man (in many senses) and we needed to talk about that.
Henry was always very wistful about V&V. He wrote a history of our family and I don’t think said very much about it. His departure from SA in 1989/90 was difficult. His accountant at the time explained to me that the family business had run out of cash, in part due to the funds and time that had been diverted to V&V, but also poor property development decisions, in the midst of very high inflation, caused by apartheid. Henry funded a vegetable patch to make the courses more self-sufficient in front of the Greystone house, for example, and fenced it (with an 8 foot Eland-proof fence). Henry didn’t do things by half! I remember some people on the committee being rather unhappy that this was just done without the committee’s.approval. The reality of this change in our family finances was stark for me and my siblings. We lived a comfortable life with what Henry described as a money tree in the back yard! That all changed and looking back, if it hadn’t we might have not all have struck out on our own, as we did.
I think about Henry a great deal. He never appeared to be sad or knocked down by anything, even the big change to his now Australian life. I wish he had been given more credit for what he did. In the UK, he and others would have received medals or even knighthoods for their efforts, visits from HM and all that would have helped the organisation to keep going. I remember that they approached Outward Bound UK, who chose not associate with V&V due to sanctions, even though it was an agency for change. V&V could almost certainly have raised cash in the UK now, 2023. But there we are. My father was a truly amazing man – a prince. We have had to rethink “why we do things” after his death.
Catherine:
You have certainly prodded and poked the memory bank!
I remember going to Veld and Vlei with Henry and Jo all my childhood, and spent most holidays involved in some way.
I was V&V caterer with Bev Field in for 1978/1979 once and then I remember being thrown into it alone (1979/1980) when either Bev or the caterer lined up was not able to come or got sick. I would have been 15/16. I think Jo had returned to Australia during one of those times to see her family. Jo took on the catering role for many V&V courses when we were younger. We would all be packed up at the beginning of the holidays and moved out to Greystone for the course duration. The old house was cold but had the roaring fire in the living room keeping everyone warm during the winter courses. I remember packing hike rations in the main house back kitchen with piles of “dog biscuits”.
Henry was instrumental in the infrastructure of V&V, much of which is still standing today. The trainees went from sleeping in tents on the terraces to rondavels which were built in approximately 1976. I also remember the construction of the dining hall and kitchen. That was an extension of the old bluestone building that housed the quarter master’s store. I can still smell the manky smell of that room! The power generator gave him endless hours of grief! (to use his words). I remember the silence at night when the generator was turned off.
I learnt to drive when I was about 15, on the road from the Estcourt municipality boundary to Greystone. In those days one did not need to hold a license on rural roads, only if you were driving in town. Henry used to come up the drive way at home at 5.15 every night and I used to head to V&V with him. He drove a little Renault bakkie with the umbrella gear stick.
I reflect back now on my mother’s resilience living in South Africa. She came from a very sheltered upbringing in Australia and pretty much everything she did with my father was out of her comfort zone. I am very grateful for the upbringing we had and the exposure we had to so many things, and like Charles said, the endless flow of people in our home staying for extended periods of time was extraordinary and enriched all of our lives. Henry and Jo were incredibly generous people, from always having enough dinner for a crowd, to there always being beer in the fridge for anyone dropping in.
Elizabeth:
I have just read through the blog and had a fabulous journey down memory lane. Cedric Amoils had told me about your blog so it was wonderful to see it and read through the memories and photographs.
I did return to V&V when my uncle Mike died, am guessing in 2008 or 2009. It was then a Christian camp, I think it is now a children’s camp for school parties as well as wedding venue. I noticed with joy that the old rondavels and the rather ugly dining hall are still very much still in use. I remember well the building of those, particularly the rondavels. And the uneven floor in the dining room – Henry was not much of a level floor kind of person. Things were very much made “good enough” – and I can see my mother’s eyes rolling! There were always large puddles on that floor when the rains came, as I suspect the roof wasn’t up to much either.
I noticed on my visit that a swimming pool had been added, along with a chapel and other buildings. The assault course looked very much the same as it used to look albeit with an electric fence around it. The views of Moor Park and Wagendrift were of course just as beautiful as ever! The house remains as lovely as it ever was. A large part of my childhood was spent in that house, I expect more time there than in our home in Estcourt! I recall every inch of it, as one does.
I will see what I can find in photos etc. And scribble some memories for you too.
Well done on getting this together. I can say with absolute certainty that Henry would be utterly delighted with this, as would Jo. Sadly Henry died in 2019 aged 85 and Jo less than a year later in 2020 aged 83.
The Hyde’s lounge on typical Sunday morning
1978
Edward, Charles, Catherine, Elizabeth, Henry; and Dick Lavers
Attending a Veld and Vlei course was often a pivotal experience in a boy’s life. Most were in standard nine or matric at the time they enrolled on a course. The three-week period covered a range of physical activities ranging from an obstacle course, map reading and camping, to early morning runs, swims, sailing and a long hike in the Drakensberg. Decades later, past trainees of the Veld and Vlei Adventure School look back with fond and proud memories of their time spent there. Many returned in subsequent years as voluntary instructors or helpers, such was their loyalty and enthusiasm for the movement.
This blog aims to keep those memories alive, and it is hoped that friends from those early times will share their stories, photographs, and anecdotes with others.
Early pioneers, organisers, wardens and instructors of the Greystone courses also need to be acknowledged and thanked for their tireless and enthusiastic dedication. It would be rewarding if their stories too could be woven into this blog.
Hugh Solomon course G8 July 1970, Pete Swanepoel course G12 July 1972 and Anthony de Souza course G19 December 1975 decided we needed to get this going.
Dick King patrol Back: Trevor Beyers, Dirk van Rooyen, Bossie Boshoff, Anthony van der Schyf Front: Leslie Rodel, Hendrik Grobbelaar, Mr Andley, Hugh Solomon, Ainsley Cuthbertson
Peter Swanepoel was chosen leader of Uys patrol that year, and he writes how G12 ended up differently in that a meningitis outbreak cut it short just after the start of the long high-Drakensberg hike. ‘We had already set out but were called back, told to walk SLOWLY and sent home with an envelope full of big white pills. What a bummer!’
‘We were given blue felt badges and a poor-you-ous letter, but no course-completion certificates. And rightly so, I feel: A lot can happen on a six day hike in the high Berg in winter! Here’s the letter:’
– tough luck letter from Camp Warden Alan Webster – winter 1972 –
I wonder if I ever got my R3,79? Who’s running the tuckshop account these days?
Veld and Vlei Estcourt 