Saturday 29th June 2013
The Cape film season virtually shuts down in winter, so I could normally spend a few weeks at Boggy Pond, but I haven’t been here in six weeks. Four weeks were spent in Johannesburg renovating our studio. Seventeen years of mercifully constant use have taken their toll, and the gradual changes in the technology we use needed to be consolidated. Some time ago I replaced the electricity-guzzling film lights with custom built low-power fluorescent lighting. I constructed the housings from re-cycled cardboard, and although the units worked splendidly, Christa was embarrassed by the fact that the main light advertised a popular brand of edge-trimmer! The fill light was incomplete, causing flare in the camera lens, and just looked very… cardboard-ish!
My gluing, stapling, cutting and painting twenty-hour days were darkened somewhat at the end of May by a text message from Stephen “Cabin broken into at Boggy Pond. Fridge, microwave and other stuff taken. Workshop OK”
Other than a certain sense of inevitability, I was left completely unmoved by the news – I was just too busy to give it any thought and there was nothing I could do about it anyway. Within an hour of the message, Caledon Police phoned me for directions to Boggy Pond, where Stephen was handling the situation on my behalf, already receiving texted tip-offs from outraged community members. Dealing with it in person would have to wait while I worked my way down an extensive “to do” list.
Early in June, things began to get pressurised – I was invited to give a class at an acting school in Cape Town, Christa had to fly down to meet a Director wanting to bring a major Television series to South Africa, another series based in Cape Town got the “Green Light”, and we had a working actors’ workshop booked for the still tool-strewn studio!
My “break” ended on Sunday 16th June when I flew down in time to give my audition class. I then went straight into long days of directing auditions, then processing and transmitting the video until 02h00.
My first opportunity to drive out here came on the 28th of June and I had mixed feelings. On the one hand I was looking forward to a few days in the country, but my “domestic arrangements” here had been set back three years, so life in the cabin would not be fun. I was also on the verge of whimpering with fatigue. Luckily, perhaps, my packing and preparation was getting off to a very slow start when I received another text from Stephen; a major traffic accident had closed the N2 for at least three hours.
The thought of arriving after dark to a trashed cabin settled the matter.
I hardly slept at all on Friday night – for the first time my sub-conscious anger rose to the surface and churned my mind with pointless plans of revenge and strategies to mark the next unwelcome visitors with a variety of noxious substances. I very nearly got up and completed packing at about 04h00, but then I finally fell asleep…
I was still tired, confused and dispirited on the drive across the mountains, but my mood began to lift as I neared Caledon. The sight of the rolling green fields of Canola and Barley always lifts my spirits. I stopped only briefly in Caledon to refuel with the last of cheap petrol, and to buy some milk for Sandy and a bottle of Whisky for myself.
The “Road Closed” signs on the Hermanus road have been removed, so I decided to drive in via the slightly straightened and eased Shaw’s pass. Although the weather was sunny and clear, the valley to Tesselaarsdal from Shaw’s pass coddled a wisp of low cloud in the midday sun, and I admonished myself loudly: “Enjoy the bloody view! That’s why you came here in the first place!”
After a tasty lunch of curry & rice with Steve and Sandy, I had to face opening the door of my cabin….
After a bit of tidying. Not quite a fully-fitted kitchen!
No fridge, microwave, toaster, kettle, snackwitch maker, heater or food stash. My vacuum flasks, one a souvenir from a movie, were also missing. A glance under the bed among the scattered books and papers confirmed that my scanner, portable printer and lightweight tripod had also been taken. I gathered the papers and books and decided to start by sweeping up the rest of the mess… which is when I discovered that the broom, dustpan, brush, and light-bulb had also gone. So had the toilet paper. I unlocked the workshop to raid my store of basics. Steven had said that the workshop was OK, and had removed my drill press and agricultural tools as a precaution…
Part of the trashed workshop
The workshop was a mess! The place had since been ransacked, with a few light hand-tools, hardware, recycled shade-cloth and everything that had been on the shelves jumbled on the work bench or on the floor among the tipped-over barrels of the infamous gas-digester-in-progress. The thieves had clearly returned after the police had been. Curiously, there was no obvious sign of forced entry… They either found a spare key I’d forgotten about in the cabin, or they simply unscrewed and replaced the bolt on the door. The most obvious missing item was a 150 litre electric geyser, recycled from an unwanted and illegal addition to our old home in Johannesburg – and my store of food and toilet paper!
After a day like that, what can one do? Retire to one’s plank Boudoir perhaps and down a stiff glass of whisky, or a favourite mug of strong coffee – even better, perhaps a mug of strong coffee laced with whisky!
Nope!
My collection of cheap glass tumblers had disappeared. My bright red promotional Nescafé mug was no more, and my faux Art Deco mug, a last memento of Johannesburg commune life in the Seventies, had also been looted!
A tin mug of Koffiehuis Gold and a dash of Vat 69 was very welcome, and most consoling…
A hot water-bottle, bed, and the second tin mug of Vat 69 with a tincture of coffee did even more good…