There is good reason for the festive period often being referred to as the silly season.
For some peculiar reason people normally of sound mind lose their marbles when they head down to the coast for the hols.
The exuberance of escaping their mundane lives seems to temporarily shut down the neurons that feed the brain with impulses of responsibility.
Coastal dwellers like us know that all too well (although many of us also become stupid during this time).
It is almost that time of the year again, so buckle up.
I’d like to share a gem or two of such imprudent behaviour by people on high-octane blissfulness.
The incidents were shared first-hand by officials on the ground who actually dealt with them along KZN’s north coast – so assume it to be the truth and nothing but the truth.
My favourite one is probably the sad demise of elderly ‘Ouma van Transvaal’ while on holiday with the family at Sodwana.
Called to higher service in the early morning hours, the family had to respond rapidly to this unexpected turn of events in the middle of their idyllic bundu excursion.
A quick solution was obviously agreed upon, no doubt by unanimous vote.
Just as the rising sun began to paint the ocean gold, there was a knock on the reserve manager’s door.
The family delegation respectfully enquired whether they could store grandma in the fishermen’s cold storage room facility (where the dear old bird could rest peacefully among the barracuda, sailfish and whatnot) for a day or three until their vacation came to an end.
The request was unsurprisingly declined. One can only hope by some divine premonition ‘Ouma’ saw it fit to scratch the family names from her will before departing on holiday.
Then there was the story of parental indifference, to use a kind term.
Many North Coasters will be familiar with the frenetic traffic congestion at Sordies’ beach launch site as diver and fishing craft rush madly about.
A New Delhi traffic circle is serene by comparison.
Oblivious to the possible perils this posed, an upcountry family parked themselves in the midst of this highway without traffic rules, with toddler Boetie happily digging a sand pit in the line of fire.
Long story short, a thoughtless 4×4 driver drove over young Boetman in his sand pit. Lots of screaming and wailing ensued, but once the bewildered young fellow was retrieved from under the sand, no blood was visible and nothing appeared to be pulped.
The only conclusion was that the mound of sand miraculously cushioned the child against serious harm.
Ma and Pa were nevertheless urged to immediately rush him to the nearest clinic where where a doctor could at least examine the boy for possible life-threatening internal injuries.
Encountering the family on the beach the next day, a patrol officer enquired about the doctor’s diagnosis.
“Ag, we actually didn’t go as we had a lekka braai arranged with some buds of ours. But we’re monitoring Boetie closely anyway just in case,” the father retorted confidently.
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