Monday, 8 July 2013

The Beginning (Wayno`s words)

I can't remember how it was that I got to share a bunk bed with Clyde during basic training, but man was I glad I did.
A suntanned, fit, focused and very genuine guy became my friend.

I had, and still have a healthy respect for anyone born and raised on the Bluff. I had seen enough fights and agro to know that they were not to be taken lightly, even saying that though, Clyde surprised me.

It began by an offer of a free weekend pass to anyone prepared to volunteer to box in an inter company boxing tournament. It was a huge affair with a real boxing ring, all the top brass invited, and all the troops supporting. It was something the entire camp could be excited about and look forward to in the bleak boring days of basic training. 
Experience as a boxer wasn't needed or asked for, just box your best and win or lose, a weekend pass was yours.
Clyde and I volunteered.. I withdrew within minutes on hearing I would be boxing a Transvaal champion. Clyde continued unwavering. In the days leading up to the tournament I realised I had completely misjudged him. We had stood guard together in the early morning hours taking turns to sleep, stolen food from the canteen together, marched, run, trained, sweated, slept, polished, cleaned, laughed and shared so much real concrete stuff I honestly thought I knew him.

But when he climbed through those ropes into the ring I realised he was much much more than I judged him to be. He boxed like a champion, absorbed punishment like a sponge and stood toe to toe with a determined Dutchman. He fought with everything he had, it was only then that I realised that win or lose he was going home with his surfing prize. 

May I add that in our company we had springbok and national surfers, but their hunger to surf obviously wasn't as strong as being prepared to get bloodied in the ring. Clyde was undeterred, unwavering and fought for his waves.
I saw an entire army camp change in the way they dealt with Clyde. All the troops and the ranks were sure to greet him now and I could see the respect in their eyes, a respect not easily given. In our platoon he was a hero, we were all very proud of him, and still to this day that boxing match defines the way I see Clyde - a passionate, calculating, totally focused, tough, resilient and an absolute lover of the ocean and surfing that transcends pain and reason.

Wayne Symington. (PS Corp 1984)

Saturday, 15 June 2013

Weekend Interlude.

Have a great weekend and if you ever had an instructor corporal giving you shit, a bit of a laugh.

Friday, 7 June 2013


Having a few days off.
So far its been fun doing a few words everyday, never knowing where this whole thing is going. Just letting it go where it goes, thats the way its going to continue. Believe me the best is yet to come.
Jack and Leroy.
JBAY missioning.
The Transkei.
The Army.
Garvies Beach continued.
The Goddess.
More Morphine Memories.
More Private Health and Insurance.

We have got through:
End Chapter
Morphine Memories 1,2 and 3.
Private Health and Insurance.
Flight 224
Day 1
Surfing the Early days.
Garvies Beach.

Have a great weekend.

Saturday, 1 June 2013

Saturday, 25 May 2013

Weekend Interlude.

 Leroy will arrive tomorrow, its going to be fun.

What happened on the roof in Gonubie will continue on Monday, have a great weekend everyone.
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Monday, 25 March 2013

What is a Tokolosh ?

Ok so a lot of people are asking what is a Tokolosh.

Please refer to the link below, its way too good to let slip by. Hopefully this will give you all a better insight as to what a Tokolosh is.

Pure Gold.

Wednesday, 6 March 2013

Why ?

March 2013.

A selection of short stories told by myself and some of my best friends about growing up in the 70´s, 80´s and 90´s in South Africa.

I have been living in Europe now for more than 20 years and via Facebook have reunited with most of my old school friends, who almost all of them are now also living away from the country we love and grew up in.

 This lead me to ask myself why am I not back in the country I miss almost everyday, the answer to that question is simple in my case but we will get to that at a later stage .However I am no closer to answering why such a high percentage of my school graduation class have left. We as young white South Africans got the best of the best growing up at the height of Apartheid rule, or did we ? Was the price we unknowingly paid so great we have subconciously turned our backs on our patria and tried to start our lives again with a clean slate.

I know some of us have tried to tell stories of our experiences in South Africa which sometimes are pretty unbelievable so we try and play them down so as to make them not seem like a bunch of absolute bullshit, even then you can tell no one believes a single word you have just said.

In this Blog I hope to set the record straight and tell it how it really was, believe me it truely was
 " The best of times, the worst of times.".