My Dad And Safari Reserve
by Kelly Mitchell
My Dad was a true self made man. His parents were not around much, and he basically grew up in convents until he was old enough to get a job, and pay for his own housing. Throughout his life, he was a devout Catholic, and I feel that his upbringing and time with the nuns and in the church contributed greatly to his devotion. His faith and strength served as the foundation for which our family was formed, and he was the rock that we all anchored to.
He went to school, like most kids – and eventually got a job as an insurance adjuster. He worked and worked, and eventually decided to venture out on his own, in the insurance industry – and soon came to own his own business. For over twenty years he groomed, grew and built his company – into a multi-million dollar business. Truly a success story where business is concerned. But a real ‘human’ success story as well – with regard to his immeasurable instincts of determination, dedication, survival and strength.
With my father’s successes, I was truly a lucky young man, considering that not only did my parents love to travel, but my father’s sense of adventure was almost always reflected in the places we went and the things we did while we were there. White water rafting, big game hunting, scenic four-wheeling, out-to-sea sport fishing – the memories of all our adventures together are a gift I will treasure forever. Truly, we were blessed to travel the world with a true adventurer: my father. We went to Italy, Spain, Mexico, Canada and the Great Northwest Territory, and Africa.
One of the many things we enjoyed doing as father and son – was hunting. My father, brother and I would take exotic trips to jungles and safaris in Africa hunting for lions, more local hunts for deer and game birds, and extreme visits to the remote (and cold) Great Northwest to hunt for caribou. It was quality time between the men in my family.
We enjoyed so much about Africa – we went back several times. I was not surprised when my father decided to buy property in South Africa. It was actually more than just a piece of property or a ‘vacation’ home - it was three miles of ivory coast line and roughly four thousand acres of dramatic, beautiful South African landscape. It was a farm, and my Dad decided it would be called Safari Reserve. Bordered by Port Alfred on one side, and the mighty Fish River on the other – the farmhouse on Safari Reserve was situated at the Fish River’s mouth and Claremont (a part of larger Port Alfred) was the other boundary line; and south, beach ran into the Indian Ocean.
When Dad purchased the property, there was only a house with a leaky tin roof and the rest of the property was over grown with vegetation. The first thing my Dad had to do was to replace the roof of the old home. The roof was made of corrugated tin, and when it was removed – we were introduced to a family of boomslangs, which are small, venomous, but common snakes in South Africa. They had made their home in the roof. It was a good thing this was the first thing we did – considering our family would be sleeping under it! There are actually three varieties of snakes that are common to the area where our farm was. Of course, we’ve already mentioned the boomslang, but there are also puff adders and cobras as well. All three are very common, very dangerous, and very venomous. I had the distinct personal pleasure of meeting the third while walking the farm one day, but I will get to that later in the story.
Once the snakes were removed, and the roof was installed on the house, my Dad set out to make it a little more livable. Within two weeks and with lots of help from locals - the house was beginning to take shape. The overgrown grasses and other vegetation were removed from the property, and from the buildings - and with it gone - the house could be seen, and lovely gardens started to reappear.
The house itself was basically three bedrooms with a large living area and a kitchen. Adjacent to the house, was a small pool and three smaller dwellings for farmhands (such as nannies, game trackers, and other property support staff). The house would be the home to a ‘House Manager’ who would oversee day to day operation and maintenance of the farm and the property when Dad wasn’t there.
With the house completed my Dad’s next endeavor was to build a barn for the hunting trucks and other farm equipment he would need to make the farm self sufficient. The barn was erected the very next summer and with it - the purchase of a caterpillar tractor that we would use to make new roads on the property.
The farm wasn’t just for testing Dad’s general contractor skills, a ‘luxury getaway’ or buying equipment. It was also for game. Dad had purchased several head of Black Angus cattle which he raised to sell for meat. When our family purchased the farm, Europe was going through its first ever series of cases of mad cow disease. So, we figured we could sell the meat from the cattle to help subsidize the cost of the farm. Luckily, and as usual when it came to financial things, my Dad was correct - and the cattle idea went over big. We were selling cattle (called wieners, which are baby bulls) to other farms in the area for a good profit. The wieners were in great demand because you only need one bull and several cows to produce a herd. We probably cornered the market on wieners in South Africa for a good time.
With the sale of the cattle going well - we figured it was time to expand the farm. The adjacent land was owned by a Mr. Mulmond. The plot of land was probably a thousand acres or so of prime grazing land. Dad decided to begin negotiations with Mr. Mulmond – and soon, Dad struck a deal to purchase the Mulmond farm. With this additional land, we increased the amount of cattle we could run and started bringing in other, more exotic animals that were native to the area.
My Mom loves zebras – so it made a lot of sense that was our first exotic game acquisition. Dad purchased just under a dozen zebras. It was a cold, rainy day when they delivered the zebra to Safari Reserve. The truck pulled in the front gate and I remember our entire family running out to meet it.
The delivery of live, wild animals is truly something to behold. It’s good to have someone around with a little experience – but we did pretty well for first timers. First, we used the Caterpillar to build a ramp for the truck to back up to. Then, we all piled into the hunting truck to safety – to watch from a short distance.
The truck slowly opened its rear door and we waited. The animals didn’t come out for quite some time, but when they did - it was like a stampede. Zebras actually ran everywhere, through the fences, into the truck, into the pond… and some where actually never seen again.
With this first offload of animals we quickly learned our lesson and my Dad made sure that the fences around Safari Reserve where high enough that most animals couldn’t jump over it.
So for the next few months, workers were on the farm increasing the height of the fences to a towering twelve feet. With the new, higher fences in place we ordered our next batch of animals - which were two of the most gorgeous giraffe I have ever seen. The giraffe didn’t react like the Zebra; they simply stepped off of the truck with elegance and poise - and immediately began strutting gracefully around the property. With the addition of the giraffe, the farm now had zebra, bush buck, dieker water buck, eland, kudu, bles buck, spring bok, impala, and nyala.
After a few years, the politics and environment in South Africa started to change. Zimbabwe was led by a dictator, Mugabe, and he was taking unkind actions against many landowners. Over time, this began to trickle down into South Africa. Race wars, looting, and state supported terrorism reigned, and farmers were being run off of their own land, and rebels was taking possession of farms, and even killing the tenants and animals.
Certainly this was alarming, and my Mom was worried we could easily become victims since another local farmer had been attacked. His farm was just across the highway, about three miles from our property. He came home one evening and found a group of intruders had broken into his home. As he entered his home, he defended himself and he shot and killed the intruders. He was facing several legal issues and charges with the South African government when we left South Africa.
After this began, my Dad began to contact several of his friends in Africa – one of which was Lou Hallimore, a noted African whose book In The Salt was a best selling hunting book. All of his friends confirmed what Dad had feared - that Africa was changing for the Caucasian farmer. Our farm had actually always been owned by Caucasians that we knew of, since South Africa was settled in many places by the English and Dutch, and also as it was part of Fort D’Acre during the Boer Wars. We did not want to stay where we were not wanted, or where we might become victims of crime because of the color of our skin.
My Dad took meticulous care of this land. Our family employed many locals, contributed to the local economy in a positive way, and provided food for local villages. Nevertheless, because of the state of things - my Dad decided to put our farm on the market. It sold quickly, because it had been transformed from overgrown and unkempt brush to Safari Reserve.
Truly, I think – this is my Dad’s greatest adventure: to come from nothing - and become the man he became. He will always be my hero, not just for what he went through or what he did, but because he never ever gave up. One thing is for sure - I am his proud son – and I work hard to be successful in my life, to be like – my Dad.
Editor's Note - Luckily, Kelly is not single, nor was his father - in fact, he was happily married for over 40 years. But both are definitely SUPER - and further our belief that a dad's presence in one's life is paramount.
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