SADDLE BUMS
Over the years I ponder on the issue on the different
“estancias”I have lived or visited and I come to the conclusion that, in a way
it was my elder brother Alan Digby
(1928-1999) that influenced, partly, the way I faced my life.
Digby was five years my senior; and our relationship used to
go from extreme moments of great friendship to near killing each other.
At times he could be a bit of a bully, but when I grew to
the age of 14 we had a real free for all, after which long friendship was
established.
In a way I really admired him for at 14 he was already
working as an office boy in Blue Star Line, and as war was at its height he would bring officers
from aboard ship to spend week-ends at home. I met quite a number of very
interesting young men, some in their uniforms which highly impressed me and I
have, some where in my archives a little note book where I have the address and
signature of many of them.
At the age of 17 Digby volunteered but was put on stand -by
as he was not the proper age. However when he was about to hit 18 telegram came
that no more volunteers were accepted as the war with Germany was coming to an
end.
So, looking for new experiences he moved on to Moore
McCormack, then to Panagra, and later to Chadwick Weir where he worked together
with his school friend Dick Welch. Both Digby and Dick took part in a pantomime
put up to raise funds for the War Fare, “Cinderella” at the old “Politeama
theatre” on Avda.Corrientes. They were the front and back part of a horse. The
pantomime was a big hit.
Then Digby suddenly changed and in looking for adventure he
tried his hand working in the “camp”.
His first was far and beyond, in those days, in Guaminí. And
later to a nearer estancia between Monte and Las Flores (Prov.of Bs.As.)
However a few months later he was called to comply with his
military service…
When discharged he took a job at Estancia “La Sofía” near Santa Elena ,( Entre Rios) working for
Mr.Victor Geibert, married to Melba Morgan, whose brother Jackie went to school
with me.
By that time (1950) I was also working. It started as a
summer job during school holidays but I finally decided to keep on working. My
first job was as office boy in Cooper Brothers-Lloyds Agents.(1947)
Quite a coincidence as my Grandfather Foster had been Lloyds
Agent in Madagascar
until 1907.
There I met wonderful people like Max and Humphrey, and
Norman and Basil. I enjoyed the experience and thanks to them I was able to,
whilst delivering letters and invoices, explore the city of Buenos Aires, mostly traveling in the good
old trams which in those days only cost $0,10.
However, my Father had a very good friend that also worked
in the Great Southern Railway, “Ginger” Ledbetter.
When the railways were nationalized and slowly but surely
the old personnel were made to leave. “Ginger” became the personnel manager of
the Anglo-Argentine General Electric Co. (Paseo Colon & Chile)
and spoke to my Father that I may work for G.E.C…. The opportunity was too good not to accept.
So in 1949 I started working at G.E.C.
The push this Company had was fascinating. And I met some
very nice people, many war vets from whom I received many good advise (I still
recall the names of most of them: Messrs. James Dudley –Smith,, Lavarack,
Libert, Houlder Pollachek, Kent, Paul, Jack Lenton, etc.)
After a time as office boy I was given a most interesting job as Administrator
of the Technical Office running the invoicing and getting the necessary
materials for the outside jobs that were done. My bosses were Mr. R.A. Duncan
and a Mr. Carter, (Mr. Carter I met again years later (1967) when I was living
in Cinco Saltos (Rio Negro) I really enjoyed my work and
companionship. I also recollect my long chats and advices received from Miss
Martha Glenny.
(As a remembrance of old days when you go by the old
building in the corner of Paseo Colon and Chile you will see, still stamped
on the wall “Genalex” – G.E.C.)
1950 was also the year that together with Charlie Dodds road
down on our horses to Rio Salado (400 Kms.) as depicted in other write-ups
under the titles of “Santa Catalina” and “A
tribute to friends”
And that adventure always kept “camp life• in sight….
And it came that my brother Digby invited Dad and me to
visit the Estancia in Sta. Elena.(Entre Rios)
The trip up there was an adventure in itself. With Dad we took the train to the city of Sta. Fé, we had already
been invited to dinner at relatives of my Mother, where we had a good time and
departed.
We had to wait till 4 a.m. to be able to get on “La Sarita”
“La Sarita” had been, in her younger days, a naval ship. I
seem to remember it had been an ice-breaker.
And she sailed from Sta.Fé at 4a.m. and stopped at Paraná,
Hernandarias, Sta.Elena and La Paz.
The trip up the Parana river
was another fascinating experience with those high banks on the Entre Rios side
and that wide stream of river, the Paraná, flowing by.
We arrived at Sta.Elena port and Digby was waiting for us in
a Dodge 1928 (not many cars available in those days). So we drove on the earth road up to the
estancia where we met Melba and Victor Giebert and his uncle Don Nicanor. Who
took on with my Father right away as, he was, also, a very keen fisherman.
We spent two wonderful weeks, Dad and Don Nicanor fishing,
Digby and I riding excellent horses and rounding up cattle, together with young
jovial “peones”. The foreman was quite a character:
: He rode a strong heavy criollo horse very well saddled
that had a large medallion on his chest. His home consisted of four poles and a
roof. In many provinces they have the
habit of putting nick-names, and I was so thin and tall in those days, that I
received “Alamo Seco” .And I thought: someday I will write a book and call it
“Dry Alamo”.
We went into Sta.Elena quite often and taken on a tour round
the Packing House and several evening s we spent at the Stelna Club. That was the time I met my friend and school
mate Jackie Morgan for the last time.
I was also surprised when we went out fishing to another
area of the estancia on horse back, how well my Father rode…. I had not seen
this before and had never heard him comment on the issue. The only nearest
thing, I retain, is a photograph he and his sister (he was 10) on a donkey in Eastbourne where my Great-Grandmother lived..
And so we returned back home and to our jobs…. .1951 was a
year of changes. Dad was finally
“requested
to give up his job at
the Southern Railway. And once again
“Ginger” Leadbetter came to the rescue and Dad started work at G.E.C. First as
assistant to the Accounting Manager, Mr. Oliver, and a year later when Mr.R.A. Duncan became Managing
Director, Dad became his assistant.
It was during this year that I spent my summer holidays at
estancia “Las Cortaderas” in Achiras (Cordoba).
Together with Charlie Dodds, Jim Risso and Peter Wilson we
caught the train to the town of Achiras
and there were met by Sterling Bridger who took us to the “estancia” Las
Cortaderas which was a “camp” fit to spending holidays riding and working camp.
It was owned by the Bridger family and we met a lot of other youngsters, having
a very good time. We were able to swim
as there was a stream near by that had been damned to be able to allow the
necessary depth to dive into. Our return
was, also, by train but we were driven to the town of Rio
Cuarto (Cordoba).
From left to right: Mr.Bridger´s truck; Riding camp;Jim Risso. ;swimming pool; land sites, Derek and Charlie.
The other novelty, in G.E.C., was that due to strong
recommendation of the engineers of the Technical Office I started studying once
again, at night, to get through my High School.
Although I got through the first year and started 2nd.year
in 1952…the “camp bug” had taken its toll.
So I walked all the way from my office to Cangallo 315 where
the offices of Argentine Estates of Bovril were and I was interviewed by Mr.
Holmes. When my wishes were explained, to work for Bovril, in some “camp” in
Sta. Elena in came Mr. Paterson and I was informed there were, at the moment,
no vacancies at Sta. Elena … but there was a place at an estancia in the province of Corrientes where I could work until
there was an opening in E.Rios.
So I accepted the challenge and I got my marching orders.
I returned to G.E.C. and explained the circumstances to Mr.
Duncan and although he inquired if I was sure what I was doing he let me go.
Same happened with my Father, he was not happy to see
another son going away, but relented.
So a few days later I boarded the old river boat “Bruselas”
which still had a back paddle. When boarding I saw many strange people with big
hats, some in “bombachas” and boots, half chewing, half smoking cheroots.
My Parents together with my aunt Letty came to say goodbye…
The “Bruselas” Blackstone motors started chugging away and we started moving…
the boat started up river.. From far away I could see my Father waving his hat
until we turned into a curve and the picture disappeared.
The people on board
were nice companions and one of the passengers was General Velazco, governor of
the Province of Corrientes at the time.
On the second day sailing, at 2 a.m., we arrived to the city
of Goya
(Ctes.). So I loaded my gear, which included my saddle, reins, etc., and took a
taxi to Hotel Sportman in front of the main plaza.
During the morning, having breakfast, amongst the people I
met were four salesmen that represented “Colgate, Palmolive” smartly dressed in
black suits.
At 12 o’clock I caught the train that was to leave me in the
town of Saladas.
I had the idea trains would be same as in long-distance and
would have a restaurant. Unfortunately not.
However, in the same coach were my friendly traveling
salesmen, whom had bought a cooked barbecue and so I was invited to share with
them. Which, of course, I did.
After four hours journey we arrived at Saladas.
Town of Saladas (Corrientes) 1952
The town was quite attractive and the housing was much
higher than the earth roads… This had an important reason, for that same
afternoon we had a very strong storm and the water flowed through the streets
with great force and as soon as the storm was over the water drained
immediately.
I stayed at the local hotel, waiting for John Davy, the
administrator of the “camp” who would be coming to look for me.
It all looked so wild, accustomed to the province of Buenos
Aires. I noticed the local policemen wore “bombachas”, alpargatas, military
tunic, a short sword and revolver, and a slanted cap and broad moustache.
The morning milkmen were young boys on horses with side bags
with liter bottles of milk that were delivered at homes and bars.
Everything looked very strange.
At the hotel I had met a Sr. Speroni and a retired doctor,
with an English surname that I cannot remember whom both had camp in the area.
They were both dressed in the local “camp” fashion, but the doctor had an
excellent tweed sport coat.
Finally, that evening John Davy arrived in his Ford 1935 and
next morning we parted towards the estancia 70 Kms, away from Saladas.
On our way I saw a
picture I will never forget: As we drove on with Don Juan through the open
camps appeared a tall elderly gentleman, with thick, long, white hair, well
trimmed beard and mustache, riding a beautiful black horse and the riders
attire was also all black, including his large sombrero. He was carrying a .22 Winchester rifle and was
shooting partridge. It came to be that he was another Sr. Speroni, brother to
one I had met in the town.
Another person we crossed on the road came driving a “Land
Rover” through the rough ground and stopped for a chat was a Mr. Thom.
Estancia “Caiman” (1952)
“Caiman” was a “camp” over 20.000 Hect. Situated between the
towns of Saladas, Concepción and Mburucuyá in the province of Corrientes.
The owners of the estancia were the Madariaga family and
rented by Bovril (later bought by Bovril)
The camp was divided in 6 big paddocks of around 4000
Hects.each. All paddocks had different landscape:
“Ibapoí:”
Was surrounded with palm trees and small lagoons (similar to the Palmar of
Colón (Entre Rios.), the earth had a reddish colour. Many palm trees had ant
nests some as high as two meters called “Tacurú. (years later, after having
visited the provinces Formosa and Chaco there is a fringe of the same type of
palm tree that enter Corrientes continues all the way to the Palmar of Colon,
disappears in the Uruguay River, continues through Uruguay to disappear in the
Ocean, and so they say to appear, once again, on the coasts of Africa,
(true?)
This was a lovely sight and it contained 600 wild horses.
“ Castillo
and Medio” were marshy paddocks as they were part of the “estero Basualdo
“which was part of the Iberá system.
“Arazaté” : Totally different.
It was good grazing ground, surrounded by lagoons crowded with “Carpinchos” and
in certain areas very closed jungle where you could see monkeys (Carayá). I know there were “yacarés” around, but
rarely saw one, and small, at that. What I did see were, at different times
“Curiyú” snakes (A water snake that could reach five meters long) (In some
estancias and especially in the islands in the Paraná
river they had them in the barns to kill vermin.)
“Mbatará”: Again, totally
different the previous.. Marked by red, sandy slopes and another variety of
small palm trees.
The
estancia house was the typical “U” building seen in many “camps”
About 2
Km from the house there were the cattle pens. They were over 100 years old and
they were construed with very packed logs, so much so that it looked more like
an 19th century fort against Indian attacks.
The
“estancia” had, I seem to remember about six thousand head of cattle, all
Herefords.
There were quite a
variety of wild animals, “ñandú”, wild donkeys, monkeys, vizcachas, snakes,
foxes, enormous amount of crows.( you could tell when some animal had died for
they flew from the forest near the
lagoon that stood near the main house.) On the banks of this lagoon was buried
one of the Madariaga
brothers, but I do no remember if he drowned or if he was
eaten by pirañas.
The “camp” personnel:
The ones I most remember were:
Administrator: John Davy, then 28 years of age.
Ex-St.Alban´s College.
Assistant Derek R.Foster, then 18, also Ex-St.Alban´s
College.
Forman: Ramirez
Assistant Forman: Facal
Farm handsPolí Gauto – very good horseman, and like most of
the young workers a good
horse-breaker, in the cruel ways fashioned in those days. He
was also good at
working raw-hide making lassos, reins, etc.
Asís Miño – was then 80 years of age, very good to work on
horse-back. Had
driven a carriage in the city of Corrientes around 1900.
Agustín Aguirre (Agüicho) – I do not know what age he was,
but he was very
special: he dressed in the typical way of most: bombachas,
chiripá, alpargatas
canvas puttees, big spurs tied with raw-hide to his ankles.
As most carried at
his a
sheath with three knives : a bayonet (who can tell from what revolution)
and two more knives for different purposes.
He was good company whenever we rode the camps
together. And had
numerous thrilling stories to tell.
Very few of this outfit spoke Spanish using mostly guaraní.
The evening that we arrived at ”Caiman”, during diner JD
informed me that as from next morning we would be riding through the camps so
that I become familiar with outlay of the land.
So, early the following morning, after breakfast, we walked
to the horses pen. There, on their
horses, were both foremen and ten “peones”
JD introduced me to all and we went to climb our horses.
When I saw the horse allotted to me I saw a big fat nag
where my “Trooper saddle” could hardly be seen.
My feelings were of dismay, frustration and indignation. I
stared at everybody and all were very serious… so I caught on it was one of the
many camp jokes that are applied to “greenhorns”
I kept my judgment, climbed the horse and away we all went….
All that week with JD we covered all
“Caiman”, palm trees, lagoons full of carpinchos, marshes, inspected cattle,
rode through the jungle areas and where to cross the lagoons..
As to horses after two days of riding I started to receive a
string of magnificent horses a total of six
Varying from jet black to grey and then to bay-roan and I
was left to roam the camps by myself.
However, JD had instructed the foreman to keep an eye on me
as to not come to any harm.
All work was done on horse back. We not only drove cattle
into the pens to dip against tick and other vermin but most times we had rodeos
trooping cattle against lagoons where most action took place:
dehorn, castrate, brand and cure and parted the heifers from
the steers and the old cows.
Although, all this was tiring, it was good fun: We used to
take it in turns: some rode round the
cattle to keep from straying, which after a few hours, becoming rather
boring, we use to let some steer run
away so that we may chase them back to the rodeo.
The other part of the work was done in couples. With your
partner one had to get the calf by the tail and the other with thumb and index
in their jaw and the other hand on the ear, turn its head and at the word of
“Va” the calf was down and rapidly legs tied with raw leather throngs so that
all the above jobs mentioned took place.
This kind of work I only saw done in Corrientes. Later on at estancias in Balcarce
and then in the Pre-cordillera in Tucuman seeing the men working away with their lassos and wasting time I
showed them how quickly work could be done this way.
Meanwhile, other hands, either on foot or on their horses
would lasso the cows to be parted.
By midday a barbecued lamb would be ready so we were well
fed downed with mate and right away again on our horses and back to work.
Except on warm weather where we slept a siesta on our sprawled recado
It was tiring work but got back to the camp house with a
most enjoyable day.
I had my own frights during my days in “Caiman” and both
happened in the same paddock “Arazate”
One fine morning riding my black and galloping round the
lagoon my horse suddenly gave a surprisingly jump to a side. We had just passed by a “Curiyú” snake which
was sunning by the coast of the lagoon,
I thought it was about 3 meters long. However when I
mentioned the matter I was informed that it was on the small side (?)
Another morning same horse and same paddock, it was becoming
late to be at the main house for lunch and I decided to cut across the lagoon,
when on the bank, about to get in, the horse balked, I decided he would not get
away with it, so I spurred him on, we waded in and about two meters from the
bank the horse just gave in, I could not know what was happening until it dawn
in me that we were in a swamp and we were slowly sinking. Horse would not go
either back nor forward. After fast thinking I took the left rein in my hand
and pulled as hard as I could until I was able to get the horse to turn his
head, once this was achieved,
with my whip I hit him hard on his right cheek. The horse leaped up and in two jumps we were
once more on dry land. The horse was
covered in white sweat so I got off, and we both had a rest. Once the horse had
calmed down. I rode back to the house.
This was an experience that taught never again to force a horse when in
doubt.
I arrived at the house and I mentioned the issue to JD. Who
gave his excuses for not mentioning there were certain dangerous spots and
should always cross on certain parts.
Another surprising fright came in the following way: On my
arrival at the ranch near the offices there was a smart horse grazing with his halter
and tied with a long lasso. Every time I came out from the office or my room
the horse would perk up to look at me. So I approached him and caressed him for
a while, all of a sudden he tried to bite me. This was not very friendly…
However JD later mentioned that the horse was being tamed. So another morning I went up to him again and
as I neared he charged at me. I covered my face with one hand and fortunately
with the other hand I was able to reach his halter and stop his charge, we
remained in that position for some time waiting who would let loose first.
Finally I was able to walk away quite calmly.
During the time I spent in “Caiman” only twice went into
Saladas with JD. If not most of the time was spent at the estancia. Week-ends could be long and most Sundays the
only thing to do was to saddle your horse and go out on a long ride.
Saturday morning could be most interesting as it was the day
to change the horses used during the week.
Therefore, one of the men drove about 60 horses towards the
lagoon, once there he would un-saddle, strip himself to his underwear, mount
his horse bare-back and with a long pole drive the remuda to bath swimming
through the lagoon. When this was achieved the horses were driven into”
Arazaté” for their weekly rest. (Unfortunately there are no photos of this
impressive moment)
Meanwhile, the other men drove in the fresh horses, for use
the coming week, and they were formed with their rump towards the pen, one
beside the other, and inspected for possible cuts or hoof problems. Then left
free till the Monday.
Referring to horses, during my stay, twice we brought to the
pens the wild horses in “Ibapoí”. This
was an adventure all by itself. Being in the paddock where were all the palm
trees were to drive 600 horses was a fascinating feat of driving our horses at
full speed between the palm trees and lagoons avoiding the possibilities of
crashing or falling into a lagoon.
Once in the pen the
sight of 600 wild horses with long mains, trying to escape, the kicking and biting
amongst themselves, together with in-fighting were a sight to have filmed for I
never will see a similar situation again.
One horse broke his front leg and was quickly disposed by slitting his
throat with a knife.
Then, the rest, were all passed through the dip trough
against tick and returned to their paddock.
The second time this adventure occurred was to part 50
horses that were to be trooped to other estancias of Bovril. The first stop was
in Esquina (Ctes.) and although I begged JD to let me join the trip there was
no way.
.
JD had, on occasions, to travel down to Bovril´s offices in
Sta. Elena (Entre Rios). At one time he went off informing he would return on
the following Tuesday. The boring Sunday came along and in the evening I saddled
up and went for a ride….. Arriving at
one end of the estancia near the road that went to Mburucuyá I spotted a
“boliche” (pub) pertaining to a man called Tasso. So I tied my horse to the
rail and entered – although I knew none of the people there I was very
welcomed. So I was offered a drink of caña. Now the custom was to be served
caña in a large glass, you took your sip and passed it round as you do with
mate.
Well, the evening turned to night, men arrived with guitars
and accordion, and played away, people danced and the caña kept on flowing,
until, I decided, it was time to return home. I got on my horse and very
merrily, singing away, I arrived at the house and much to my surprise JD had
returned.
We had a quiet dinner, hardly speaking and departed to
sleep. During the night I woke up and thought I had a toad in my mouth and I
must say I was feeling rotten. So I went and had a very cold shower, back to
bed, only to get up, once again for another cold shower.
After breakfast and at the office, where I was still feeling
quite rotten is where JD gave me a good ticking off…
During the months I remained at the estancia I never
returned to Tasso´s Pub again.
One day we started seeing cattle branded on their cheek. So
JD reported the incident to the local Federal Police. During the next week-end
the police chief and his assistant came along to check on the issue. During
dinner we spoke general matters and when I mentioned the agricultural
university at “Santa Catalina• in Lavallol the
officer informed me he had studied there before joining the police force.
One hot afternoon I was riding camps and on one of the
roads, from far away, I could see a sight that was not familiar to me, as I
approached I recognized two women on their horses, they were riding, as was the
custom in Corrientes in those days, side saddle. When I got to them they were
something out of this century.
One of the ladies was very old and really looked like a
mummy. She was very tall, and sat very straight on her horse. Her dress was white
and long to her small boots and had, at the hem a wire ring. It was the mode of
the 1900. She had on a wide silk hat.
Her left hand held the reins and her right she had an open
parasol. Her face was quite ancient, but she had sparkling eyes and a very sweet
smile. The other woman was her “lady in waiting”. As we crossed we stopped and
interchanged greetings. Then the lady
asked me if I was Sr. Madariagas son Soon the chat came to an end and they kept
their ride. If I knew who this
magnificent lady was I have completely forgotten over the years.
The months went by and hard wild work kept on…….
Then we were visited
by two Bovril Managers: Mr. Mitchell and Mr. Salmon. After e few days
inspecting the camp they returned to Santa Elena.
The next day after breakfast JD informed me that I had been
transferred to an Estancia “Vizcacheras” in Santa Elena. Although that had been
my object I received the news with mixed feelings… I had become accustomed to a
lonesome wild life.
However there was nothing I could do but follow orders.
JD drove me to the town of Empedrado and after lunch arrived at the port
the ship “Ciudad de Buenos Aires”, JD and I said farewell and I climbed aboard.
I never saw JD again in my life. Although I occasionally heard about him (He
died, I believe, in Corrientes
in 2010). I am very indebted to him for his kind treatment and advice.
The river boat approached port at 2p.m and arrived in Sta.
Elena at midnight..
SANTA ELENA (1953)
The town of Santa Elena
(Entre Rios) is on the Paraná River and was
the head of Bovril’s establishment´. There stood the packing house which
slaughtered cattle during certain times of the year industrializing many
products mainly the famous Bovril´s Meat Extract of world known to most
families. The Manager of all this outfit was Mr. Ewence.
There were many houses with lovely gardens, the Stelna
Social Club with its golf course and Company’s Management.
It was really a well organized company in its day. It had
its own shops like “Casa de Comercio” where you could buy anything you needed
at a reasonable price (I would say, it was, what is called today a
supermarket.) The Manager was an excellent person (Mr. Simpson) whom you could
get a discount and make your personal payments in monthly installments.
There was, also” a sort of company hotel for bachelors”
named “Casa de Empleado” where you could stay in comfortable rooms and very
good restaurant, all found and very well served by good, properly dressed
waiters.
There was also,
amongst so many other things, a stable where horses were kept: and when you
rode into town you left your horse to Sr. Maidana who would have it bathed, fed
and stabled until it was time to depart.
As mentioned, the packing house worked partially during
several months of the year. It was quite impressive to see people of all sorts
come from far away, by bus, carts and horses to be able to work during the
season as the pay was quite good. The
Company kept bachelors quarters for the lonesome workers and others used to put
up their “rancho” (hut) together with a lady as temporary partner.. The town could get very adventurous and
Saturday nights were several spots where dancing took place.
In those days the provinces of Mesopotamia (Misiones, Corrientes and Entre
Rios) had no paved routs.
You could drive a car when rainy weather in Misiones as the
roads were of hard red earth, you could also
drive in Corrientes
as the terrain was sandy but you could not drive in Entre Rios. When it rained
in Entre Rios no traffic was to be seen or heard…..the mud was so thick it
would block your wheels and then you were really stuck. I believe there was a
law that did not allow traffic on rainy days for it would leave such deep
tracks that could only be set back to normal when a motor grader went through leveling
the road.
So, as mentioned before, the “Ciudad de Buenos Aires” arrived at Sta.Elena port near midnight. And
there was, waiting for me, a porter who
helped me with my apparel and escorted me to “Casa de Empleado”
Soon after I was in my room a real downpour came down.
Therefore, next morning, soon after breakfast,
one of Vizcacheras cowhands arrived on horse-back leading a
second . Young Romero waited till I had
saddled my horse and off we went riding the 30 Kms. to “Camp”. We crossed part of the estancia “La Sofía”,
passed several areas of scrub-forest went up and down slopes, until we arrived
to the Feliciano stream.
There we found that the stream was flooded…. So we called to
the other side where lived a retired cowhand and his job was to bring out a
canoe in which to cross over, we would unsaddle, put them into the canoe and
the horses (knowing they were getting home) swam across tugging the canoe to
the other side, were prompted saddled again and off we continued our ride.
We had also arrived at Vizcacheras land.
The Feliciano stream comes from up North and at Vizcacheras
use to meet another stream named Alcaraz and then flow into the Parana River.
ESTANCIA VIZCACHERAS (1953)
This estancia was also over 20.000 Hects.and was divided
into three sections: Vizcacheras, Galpón Esquila and San Carlos. All sections were provided with
pens and dips for the cattle. Also all the paddocks had been planned and wired
for a special reason, as all that area of Entre Rios was considered infected by
tick and by law all cattle had to be dipped every fifteen days.
Mr.& Mrs.Woodgate
daughters Monica and Rosemary
Sunday ride
Terry Coward
So the work was
completely different to what I had experienced in “Caiman”
and consisted namely, of trooping the cattle from different
paddocks, every fifteen days, to the dip pens where at the same time all other
work was done: parting, branding,
curing, etc.
The cattle were all Aberdeen Angus and there were several
pedigree bulls mostly of “Charles of Guerrero.”
stock.
Actors in this experience of whom I have a good remembrance:
Manager: Mr.
Clarence Woodgate. (Vet. WW1. Saw action in Mesopotamia..)
He kept us on our toes, (just like my Father.)
Married and had five daughters, Beryl, Barbara, Rosemary, Nancy and
Monica
Accountant: Mr.
Holland – who, unfortunately died during that year
Second A few weeks later, Terry Coward arrived back at the
estancia after complying withhis military service.
Assistant:the author.
Foreman: Eduardo
Hidalgo;was then 74 years of age. Always well dressed in his gaucho
attire and riding excellent horses. A very interesting
person: When he did his military service (around 1900) he was called to the
navy and to his luck he was posted to the “Fragata Sarmiento” and traveled
through various countries.
Although he did not much like England,
he was very proud to have been when there was Queen: Victoria.
He did enjoy his stay
in France
(I’ll bet he did)
He had most
interesting stories of Buenos Aires
and its camps at the beginning of the 20th century.
A few months before I arrived Hidalgo had had a bad experience: Bringing the cattle to dip at Galpon Esquila
he had a rough discussion with one of the cowhands due to having brought his
dogs to the round-up, which was forbidden. The dogs frightened the cattle and
these dispersed. Whilst ticking the man
off
the man hit him on his neck and brought out his knife and
charged… Hidalgo, whilst jumping backward told the man to stop, as he did not
do so Hidalgo extracted his .38 revolver and fired three shots into the mans
chest who with his charge slashed Hidalgos left arm from hand to elbow , ran a
few meters and fell dead. Hidalgo
was in jail for a short time until found that he had acted in self-defense.
Second Forman:
Vega. He and some the rest of
around 20 cow-hands were all around the age hitting 50 years. They were a good
lot and good riders and during lunch at the pens, which consisted of barbecued
beef downed with mate, some interesting stories were told. Most of them agreed that the best time they
had had was during their military service, for some of them the only time they
ever left their area to see other territories and most of them had been taught
to read and write whilst in the army.
Two other men come to my mind and were much younger than the
previous set:
Albornoz: was a
hefty man about 30 years old. He had a pleasant disposition and was a good
cow-hand.
His hobby was to have his horse well attired with silver
studs in reins, saddle, etc. and wore silver spurs.
He finally managed to complete his hobby and one night at
one of the provincial schools within the camp, where dances took place to
gather funds for general maintenance, Albornoz arrived with his black horse and
silver dressing…. The horse shone miles away what with the lights of the dance
and a policeman had to be put on duty to look after the silver ware.
Albornoz was one of the men that used to take leave to go
and work at the packing house in Santa Elena when working time came on.
He used to stay at the bachelors quarters. One night he got into a fight with someone
and finally knives came out. When Albornoz made his thrust, his best friend got
in the middle of the two men to stop the fight and was seriously wounded in his
midriff and I cannot remember if he survived or not. I do remember Albornoz
ended in jail.
Marin- Blas: He was a
young chap that had finished his military service. He had a poker face and I
never saw him smile but he was a pleasant lad.
He came in as a horse-breaker. He did well at his job for several months
but one morning he brought the horse he was training to the cattle pens when we
were all working dipping cattle. The
horse suddenly panicked, bucked and Marin Blas, taken by surprise, landed in
the dust floor. When lying down the
horse kicked him on his head and half his scalp was cut, flopping on his ear.
He was immediately driven into Santa Elena hospital where he was stitched and
remained, in observation, for ten days.
When he was allowed to return to work, once again he came on his horse
to the dipping pens. He got off to
tighten his saddle, so he got saddle strap, passed it through the raw hide
strap and instead of pulling upwards to tighten the saddle he set his boot
against the horses body and pulled hard.
The strap snapped and Marin Blas, loosing his balance knocked his head
against a tree: back to hospital.
On his return, he was placed to work together with the other
cow hands.
Later on we had another horse-breaker but a short time later
he was bucked off and broke a leg.
On arrival at the camp I was given my quarters in a room at
a very nice house where Mr. and Mrs. Holland lived at Galpon Esquila. I also
met the person I was to replace by his name Restelly who left that same
afternoon to his new destination. The office was on a side of the house, with a
very nice garden and trees as scenery. Passing the garden you ended up on what
is now route 12.
Crossing the route you had a big barn and a house where
another foreman lived “Faicho” Romero and his family. He was in charge of the
pedigree bulls.
As to the main house in Vizcacheras where the Woodgate
family lived was another nice house very well converted into an English country
stile and very comfortable.
Crossing towards the front of the house was another building
which had a front office, then followed CWs office, continued a bedroom where
Assistants were quartered and then the shed where the Petter motor and
batteries were placed that gave electricity to the surrounding buildings At the
end of this building was the horses barn where all the saddles were kept.
The first days I was working with Mr. Holland in the offices
when Barbara came to see me. We crossed the road into the pens and to my
surprise, of the 50 horses parted at Caimán, 15 were allotted to
“Vizcacheras”. When the situation was explained
to CW he allowed me to pick two. I picked a black and a dapple-gray.
These were rough wild
horses, when the black was set to a post; he furiously charged and broke his
neck.
The other was given to the horse-bracker to tame. Months
later this horse was the cause of being exempted from military service.
Soon afterwards Terry Coward arrived back to the camp having
complied with his military service. And I was transferred to Vizcacheras.
Very early, most mornings, we would get on our horses and
meet the cow-hands at different paddocks and drive the cattle to the pens to
dip against tick. Sometimes at Esquila sections and others at Vizcacheras. The
rodeo, depending of the paddock, could be quite an adventure, having to drive
the cattle through the thick horny bushes: you had to be careful with your
eyes. On top of our pants we wore canvass chaps (that was if you were poor
assistants, for I have seen cattle men with chaps made of deer skin)
If it was winter,
before riding to camp, we would have a light breakfast and later in the morning
mate and buns. Midday, the men would make a barbecue downed with mate. Have a
short rest and continue dipping and then return the cattle to their paddock.
In the summer
months, due to the heat, we got up at 5 a.m. cooked a beefsteak downed with
mate and out to camp and after lunch have a short sleep at the pens on our
saddles (recados) as beds.
When we returned to
the main section we shaved and bathed and in sport clothes and tie have dinner
with the Woodgate family where we spoke of several matters: politics, war,
cattle, literature, etc.,
Saturday night, when we remained at the estancia, was
different as we dressed in suits, Mrs. Woodgate would play the piano and we all
tried singing, at which I was and am pretty poor.
Meanwhile, during some time back, my brother Digby left his
job at “La Sofía” as he had a very good offer at estancia “Santa Inés”, a few
kilometers passing the town of La Paz
(Entre Rios). This was a model camp within the province and had excellent
pedigree Aberdeen Angus cattle, a good flock of sheep, and excellent criollo
horses. The buildings and houses were also excellent.
CW had a company’s car, a Chevrolet 1939, for his personal
use and there was, also, a 1939 truck. (I still see a model of this truck,
passing my house, every day, delivering soft drinks to surrounding houses)
Terry and I some week-ends, after work early Saturday
afternoons, would ride into Santa Elena, leave our horses to Sr. Maidana´s and
as we had our rooms at “Casa de Empleado” till Sunday night or early Monday
morning. We kept clothes to change and socialize at the Stelna Club or at
friend’s houses.
Amongst other guests at our digs was a young engineer a Mr.
McCardle from the city of La Plata (Buenos Aires) who was
working for Bovril. We became very friendly as he was a very pleasant person.
At some time or other, which I cannot remember, he married a girl from Sta.
Elena and settled either in Venezuela
or Colombia.
The years passed and in 2010 at a lunch at the American Club
I heard somebody was talking to a young man by the name of McCardle. It happened to be his son, when I introduced
myself and explained my friendship to his father he informed me he was, at 90,
very well and living in Miami.
Right away he got out his mobile phone and, 57 years later, we spoke in a most
friendly way remembering me, Terry Coward and my brother Digby and life of long
ago.
Although most of our work at Vizcacheras was trooping
cattle, with all it entailed, and office work had to be done to send to Central
Office in Buenos Aires,
many other matters occurred that, not remembering the exact dates I continue my
story, although not in the proper sequence.
One night, at Santa
Elena, we had dinner with Jimmy Lees – who had worked for Bovril at estancia El
Quebracho – and Alan Sym Smith. They had come and bought 30 criollo horses from
Estancia “El Aguará”
The following morning they were crossed to the town of Saladero Cabal in the Company’s cattle boat in the province of Santa Fe
and drove the horses through that province, North of Cordoba and down the Province of San Luis
and to Estancia “Las Cortaderas” belonging to Jeff Bridger near the town of Achiras (Córdoba)
Again in Santa Elena,
one warm Sunday, we rode out towards the North to visit estancia “El Malambo” belonging
to the Perez Mercader family. The idea
was to see the possibility of buying some horses.
We avoided the main
route and followed, partly, the banks of the Parana River
and then found a dry river bed with bush all along its sides. This made the trip much fresher.
The camps main houses were on top a high cliff on the Parana River but further on there was a road down to the
river itself where they had a nice beach, a motorboat and one of the islands on
the river was their property.
When we finally
arrived at the ranch at 11 o’clock we found we were in the middle of a party….
The Perez Mercader brothers came to give us a hearty welcome
and there we sat among all the guests, first sipping mate and later came a
waiter with a trolley full of different drinks and finger food.
Around 2 pm. we sat for lunch which ended at around 5 a.m.
hours after devouring big variety of food.
We had an excellent time with the crowd, never spoke of
horses, and drove back to S.E.,
Early, the following morning we headed from Sta.Elena back
to Vizcacheras. However, this made us very friendly with the Perez Mercader and
I often used to drop into their camp or meet at does in the town of La Paz at parties or at
Cattle Shows.
Another Saturday we rode into S.E. to attend a party at Mr.
Ewence´s home where his daughters birthday
Doreen and Margaret was celebrated and where dancing and a good time
took place.
Other times my brother Digby used to come to look for us in
his pick-up and take us to Estancia Santa Inés where we spent comfortable
week-ends and some times drive into La Paz where Digby had a fine crowd of
friends and we would all go out dancing, and in early summer mornings have a
good swim in the beaches of the Paraná River. Off all the youngster of that
time I remember a good friend – “Negrito”Crespo Kennedy – who became quite
famous to dancers. This was due that you normally danced to Brazilian music,
coupled with, quite often Chamame but this youngster, when returning from
university in B.A. came up with a lot of soft jazz to dance Cheek-to-cheek and everybody fell
into this pleasant habit.
One winter night, at Santa Inés, we had gone out to shoot
vizcachas together with Digby. It got very late and very cold so we settled
around a small forest, but all we had for cover was our saddle blankets and a
big sheep skin. .with a warm fire along side.
We both rapped up in the sheep skin and slept together… After a while I
became awake very cold and it was Digby that had taken my part of the skin… I
followed suit… so after he woke up we decided to saddle up and head to the
comfort of the warm house.
During that year I met most of Mr. and Mrs. Woodgate´s
daughters: Barbara whom I mentioned at the beginning of this story, soon after
departed to Buenos Aires
for her wedding. Then Monica arrived and stayed at the estancia (we casually
met in 1956 down town Buenos Aires where she
informed me she was going to live in Zanzibar.)Nancy, we met very
shortly and never met again. Rosemary
came twice to the estancia, then left, also to marry, and went to live in Canada. Beryl married Reverend Peter Godwin and was
in charge of the Holy Trinity Church
in the town of Lomas de Zamora.
Where we had a very good friendship, until he retired.
During July we had a
drought with very hot days. One afternoon, after my siesta, I went into
the office,
Whilst working at my desk I noticed stillness had descended
in the surroundings, where there were often hens and roosters about pecking and
cackling. I looked out of the window and saw all the poultry standing very
stiff. From experience, I realized a snake was about, and so a few minutes
later down, creeping, in the earth road a yarará snake. I got the broom stick and cracked her spine…
it took quite some time before it died.
They say that snakes go, usually, in pairs. Two days later,
whilst Monica was cooking a cake and we were chatting along, looking out of the
kitchen window I noticed the same strange behaviour of the poultry.
I mentioned to Monica “There is a snake lurking” and soon
between the grass approached another yarará
Same thing, I got a broom and broke it’s spine.
Referring to snakes, I noticed, whilst at this camp, that it
was the grazing horses that died bitten by snakes.
Finally, my grey horse (ex-Caiman) had been tamed and delivered
to me. I rode him often but I was not happy with him. He had a “sweet” mouth
but was rather difficult to maneuver I do not think he had been properly
broken. One afternoon, I had saddled him with my “troopers” saddle and was
galloping in one of the paddocks. I got
off to open the gate, got through, closed the gate and as soon as I set my left
foot in the stirrup and was swinging my right leg the horse started to buck
furiously with the unfortunate circumstance that my loose right stirrup jumped in
the air and got caught at the back of my saddle imprisoning my right leg.
The horse went into a bucking spree and I held the best I
could; as the horse realized he could not knock me off he, at full speed headed
into the bushes where I was quite scratched with the thorns of the trees. As
this trick did not work he headed, again at full speed, between the paddocks
wire fencing and a telegraph post, which I was lucky not to knock my knee. I was, by then, feeling quite tired when,
suddenly the horse stopped with his legs wide open and his head nearly touching
the ground. We both stayed still, I slowly slid off, holding to my saddle as my
legs were very shaky. I stood a while
resting and slowly anger crept on me. So I walked the horse to where my hat had
fallen, which I retrieved, mounted, was sure all was well, dug my spurs into
his side and whipped his rump. He started bucking again but I kept my hold. The
horse soon became tame and, although a few days later through one of the
cow-hands…. I never had any further
problem with him
Mr. Woodgate had his pet dog Bobby, a Great Dane. With Terry we discovered he was a very good
dog to go out shooting partridge. So Terry bought a single barrel shot gun and
Mr.Holland loaned me his. And off we went. Bobby was, indeed, very good, but he
was very fast for us so we spent, our shooting Sundays: Run, run, bang, bang, run, run, bang, bang.
We became very good runners and in very good physical conditions.
During August, the army arrived on maneuvers. Battalions came
from Monte Caseros,(Corrientes),
Concordia (E.R.) and La Paz (E.R). Most of the two weeks it poured with rain.
As Terry and I knew several officers from parties at La Paz we were invited, several times, for
dinner and a game of cards (truco)
Another night Mr. &Mrs. Woodgate invited several
officers to dinner which included Coronel Noel and Capitan Pastor amongst
others.
On the Sunday dawned a lovely day and practice with three
Krupp cannons took place.
And, finally on the Monday all departed
Well, as December came along I started looking towards
Christmas at home and returning to my studies.
Terry, also, soon departed and went to administrate Mr.
Federico Garat´s estancia “La Fraternidad” in Chajarí (E.R.)
So, soon we all said farewell, I took the buss to Paraná,
stayed a few days at my Mother’s family in Paraná and Santa Fé and my pretty
second cousins and later took the train to Buenos Aires and back home. (Trains
still worked well in those days)
I am very indebted to the Woodgate family who made my stay,
although mostly at the double, very pleasant.
I do not doubt Terry and I were the cause for Mr.Woodgate´s
hair becoming premature grey as he always referred to “Those wild Assistants of
mine”
As to Terry, that lives in Brazil, we have met several times
over the years and we continue –now-a-days- E-Mailing the story of our own
lives and families.
-----0-----
Second part.
So I finally arrived, to my Parent’s home both broke and
with out a job, only to find they were about to depart to the town of Balcarce, where my
Mother’s parents lived to spend Christmas.
Fortunately I was invited to join them.
So, we caught the train, which in those days still ran well,
and arrived in Balcarce on the 23rd. of December 1953.
We spent a wonderful time as for Christmas Dinner all
Mother’s family were together: My Grand-Parents, my Parents, Uncle Julio
(dentist) and Tía Minina from Miramar, Uncle Osman (Chemist) and Lila from
Necochea, Uncle Tito and Pirucha from Dolores,
uncle Ulises from La Plata and my aunts Letty and Alida.
A most wonderful family reunion and, unfortunately, the last
family get-together.
We stayed on till the end of the year where I had
opportunity to see old friends and attend parties and dances.
It also meant a change of my plans as a friend of mine
offered a job, as from February, in a well known
horse stud in the area.
The sole idea of working near my Grand-Parents and with
thoroughbred horses was enough to accept.
So I got back home, got my gear and saddle, traveled to
Balcarce and into the life of thoroughbred race horses.
HARAS OJO DE AGUA (1954)
This was amongst of the best racehorses studs in the
country.
It stands halfway between Balcarce and Mar del Plata on route 226 amongst the
beautiful scenery of the hills of the area..
You enter, southward, boarding the “La Brava” lagoon about 15 Kms. And
you enter the farm.
Sierra La Bachicha taken from Sierra el Volcan
Lovely area with much history to it since pre-historical
times to our latest history: Around 1747
in what is now Laguna de Los Padres settled a group of Jesuits headed by Father
Tomas Falkner.
Although many Indian tribes settled at different times in
the area one Tehuelche tribe used to pasture on the banks of the Rio Negro, later in Sierra de la Ventana (Where Mr.
Robert Cunningham Graham settled in 1876 and chased by the Indians a year
later) and spend the winter in what is now Balcarce area. The chieftain of this
tribe, Cangapol, was the culprit of turning the Jesuits away from the area.
The “Ojo de Agua” area was first bought around 1870 by a Mr.
Pedro Luro and along his descendants, at the time of my arrival, was Miss María
Angélica Chevalier married to Julio Victorica Roca who had been Argentine
Ambassador to France
a few years before.
All houses were beautifully built with many trees and flower
beds in the large garden it had. The spring of delicious water provided by the
“Ojo de Agua” was used for watering the whole outfit.
Within the camp was a hill which I seem to remember was part
of “The Vigilancia” or where
archeological research had taken place finding many interesting peaces.
The horses lived in luxury having excellent boxes. And every
early morning was most exciting to see so many horses led by their trainers
trotting at the crack of dawn.
There was another area where the mares and their colts were
kept all together and was fascinating to see them play and romp amongst
themselves.
The other area that was very impressive was the horse’s
cemetery with their headstone and names inscribed.
At the end of the line was the headstone of the grand
champion of the stud
“Congreve”(1924-1944)
Then came the building where the stallions were kept. Of the
many, I only remember three “Churrinche” a very tame stallion who had been
famous in the race course.
Pont L¨évêque had its own story. He had been brought from France. During
the war, as the Germans advanced, the owner had him hidden in a cellar and
there had been a battle near by. He was
a vicious, dangerous horse. On stormy nights with the thunder he would kick at
the walls of his padded box and wail like a band of elephants on the rampage
and could be heard from my rooms. Years later I was told that he had killed his
keeper.
During my stay arrived, straight from England,
Aristophanes, whom I first met when being ridden by the foreman. He was to
father many good racers, amongst them, I remember the names of Doria and Dorila
Cattle was also bred and much of my work had to do with it
and carrying the accounting books.
However, I had time to ride to the top of the surrounding
hills where you had a beautiful view of the area.
We had a good companionship with the administrator Sr.
Eulogio Perez and the vet. Mr.Asís Diaz who was originally from the province Corrientes.
Knowing that I had lived in that province we became very
friendly and he used to tell me yarns of how, to be able to study, he joined
the Detective Branch of the Police Force in Corrientes and his many adventures which I
found most interesting.
Certain evenings, after work, the three of us used drive to
a boliche (pub) “El Dorado” pertaining to an excellent person by the surname of
Valdez on route 226.and have a few drinks and play cards.
Many week-ends were spent at my Grandparents and some in Mar del Plata.
When the cold weather started settling in I found myself
quite lonesome so I decided to return home.
I arrived on the verge of my 21st birthday and once again
without a job.
After a few celebrating parties I set out to look for a job.
Wishing to have an out-door job and with the possibility of
continuing my studies, I followed the advise of a friend and dropped to see a
Mr. Judson, Manager of Frigorifico Anglo Cattle Buying Department.
We had an interesting meeting and at the time only had a job
as Hog Buyer at the Liniers Cattle Market as the person in charge of that section
was to be transferred to cattle buying (This person was Gordon Campbell).
At the same time I received an offer from Mr. R.A. Duncan,
Managing Director of G.E.C. to join once again with a fairly good job.
After pondering on both offers I decided to join the “Anglo”
“FRIGORIFICO ANGLO”(1954-1964)
So far life had been very easy but the next ten years were
the ones to look seriously at life.
The Cattle Market (known, also, as Mataderos) was and still
is situated near the area of Liniers, within the Capital city of Buenos Aires, following
the Avenida de Los Corrales. It has been there since 1889.(it had previously
been situated in Plaza Miserere (Once). Besides the cattle market was a
government packing house named “Lisandro de la Torre”. Later transferred to
another more important packinghouse situated in the town of Avellaneda under the name of Corporación
Argentina de Productores de Carne (in short: C.A.P.). Other important packing
houses in those days that used to bid at the auctions purchasing cattle
were: Anglo, Swift, Armour, Wilson, La
Blanca and an important amount of free butchers.
The amount of cattle per day was most interesting, as up to
35.000 head used to come up for sale. In those days, as the railways were still
good, 70 % came by cargo train and the rest by truck.
The Market was divided in six areas where at the sound of
the bell at 8 o’clock a.m. sales commenced on all six
All cattle buyers, to be able to bid, had to be riding
horses and it was most attractive to see so many people on horse-back. Above the cattle pens were the auctioneers
and biding could be quite interesting and some time buyers used to “lock horns”
on special lots that promised good export beef.
The packing houses had their buyers and many of us were
quite young, so not only was there good friendship but also quite a bit of
heavy pranks.
I, myself, remember two of the many: One morning I was walking from the Hog to the
Cattle Market when from the corner of my eye I saw, quite far, Kenneth Aylife,
on his horse had spotted me. He galloped towards me flat out. As he came nearer I started shrinking, so
when his horse was nearly on top I jumped up with a shrieking scream…. His
horse stopped on his track and he ended on his horses neck.. He swore at me like a drunken sailor but he
took it in good grace.
Another time, when crossing a rather high pen somebody
closed the gates and I found myself with a young bull with very small pointing
horns. The bull came straight at me and I realized he was blind so I somehow
gave a great leap and held to the top of the pen.
The horses were wonderful to watch: to see the cow-hands
trooping cattle at full speed to be loaded to their destiny: In dry weather
sparks could be seen when horseshoes hit the cobble stones of the road.
And when rainy days and the slosh had accumulated on the
roads horses, when reined in, opened their legs and skidded along to a stop.
Another cold, wet winter morning when I had to gallop my
horse he slipped and we both rolled in the wet ground but, fortunately, we
ended, wet but well.
As to the hog market, that was on one of the sides of the
market, there was also an interesting daily entry of up to 3000 head.
I worked together with Pedrito Reilly, Killemet and Mr. Ford
who was in charge of weighing our purchases.
Mr. Ford was a vet. of WW1 and had been quite a good boxer.
We did our daily purchasing after which I returned home,
which was quite far, (Lomas de Zamora)
so I had to take a buss and then the train from Constitución station. Get home, have lunch, a light siesta, shower
and don a suit and then at three thirty p.m. be at the offices in Diagonal
Norte where Anglo’s Administration rented two floors at the Shell building at Diagonal Norte street.
In the Buyers office we were rather a crowded set as cattle,
hog and sheep buyers were all together. In the next office were Messrs. Judson
and Kenny. (Managers)
The chiefs of the outfits were Messrs. Young, Reilly and Mr.
Affleck.
So slowly went 1954… The only outstanding news during this
year was that at a tea-party at home with friends of my youngest sister I met
the girl that would later become my wife. (Antonia)
1955 – I started second year of night school. Year of bloody
revolutions which toppled the government. By the end of the year Antonia and I
were in good friendship and I had ended second year High School.
Antonia and her family were all born in Minorca (Spain). Her
Father was an engineer specialized in communications and had an interesting job
in Mahon. However he was caught up by Franco’s civil
war and he and many others were on the last British battle ship that left the port of Mahon: H.M.S. Devonshire
which was full of exiles.
They were landed at Marseilles
(France) and traveled to
Argeles-Sur-Mer ending in a concentration camp at, Bram, a small town near Carcassonne. Where they
were guarded my Senegalese troops that treated them rather roughly.
As the German invasion advanced the Senegalese open the
gates of the concentration camp and fled.
Antonio (my future Father-in Law) and two companions kept on
walking till they arrived at a queue in a baker shop. At that moment the German troops arrived
and took all the civilians to work in a field.
As Antonio’s friends did not understand French and he was explaining
what the German sergeant orders were the sergeant went up to them to inquire
what the fuss was about. Having
explained the situation the sergeant spoke to them in Spanish and told him he
was also born in Spain. So he took them out of the line, gave them
some bread and they kept on walking.
I do no know much of the rest of the story except that
Antonio lived for a time in Carcassonne, Chartres and Paris. He worked at different jobs amongst them as a
baker and also as a carpenter where he always excelled and always kept as a
hobby. He also took part in the French
Résistance and was lucky enough to be able to wrangle his way out when the
Germans were reeling back in 1944 and taking – by force- people to work at the
factories in Germany.
Antonio started to walk again and in the dark of night
arrived at the embankment of a river. Whilst swimming across he was challenged
in English. (The American troops were on the other side). He addressed the
guard in Spanish and luck helped him again as the guard was a Porto Rican. He was
helped out of the river, given him dry clothes, fed him well and he was allowed
to continue his travel.
In 1947 we find him in Paris
with all the family together: Antonia, her brother Antonio, and Mother Pilar.
They remained three years in France
and then had the chance of settling in Mexico
or Argentina.
As they had family in Buenos Aires
they decided for Buenos Aires.
They arrived in 1950 and to be able to earn his wages started digging trenches
for a firm of French capital “Transradio”. When one of the managers of the firm
came to inspect the works the foreman pointed Antonio to him explaining he was
an engineer majored in Barcelona
.He was quickly taken away and given a good job and house in Monte Grande´s
re-stramiting station.
1956 came along and it dawn on me that the Sheep Market in Avellaneda would be much
nearer home.
The boss of this outfit was a Mr. Affleck.
So I spoke to him with reference to being transferred to the Sheep
Market. He discussed the matter with
Mr. Judson and I was accepted.
So I went to this lovely market together with a team that
had Mr. Affleck, Constanduros, Cecil Simpson,
Andres Cappa, Bobby Collie and Tom Olivari. A very good
team, very friendly people and half an hour from home.
This did not only make my life pleasanter but it helped me
to finish my third year of High School.
>However, during that summer I went (1956)off for my
holidays to visit Terry Coward, wife Cheche and newly born Cristina at Federico
Garats estancia in Chajarí (Entre Rios). The trip to the city of Concordia was made in a Sunderland sea-plane that landed
in the Uruguay river and afterwards took the
train to Chajarí where Terry was waiting for me at the station.
Terry and Derek
Cheche,Christina and Derek
Estancia´s House
We spent two excellent weeks riding “camp” and I returned to
the city of Concordia where I had dinner with
Don Federico at the Yatch Club and the following day flew back to Buenos Aires.
1956 dragged on, life was going very well, when we had a
very sad situation as Dad, at the age of 56 had a stroke that kept him in bed
for five years and as it was in those days, he was looked after at the British Hospital. As soon as Dad had his stroke
we were right away visited by the British Legion to offer their services.
By the end of that year I finished my third year of High
School and Antonia and I became engaged.
1957. Due to doctors advise not to await Father’s recovery, on the 4th.of February in
a very simple wedding our marriage was performed.
As Antonia worked in
a French Bank I. once
again, left by studies for later times.
ºWork went on well at
the sheep market; it was a merry job and had a good time with our outfit and
good friends of other packing houses.
1958- With Antonia took our holidays visiting my brother
Digby, who had married and we arrived after his first born daughter: Maria
Ines.
We caught the train to Santa Fé city and met Digby at the
station where we drove up North to Saladero Cabal (Sta.Fé) where he had his
home and administrated the island he had rented for fattening cattle.
Top row:: Digby with María Ines, Digby, Estela and María Ines
Middle row: driving cattle to "Cambuí" island
Bottom row: Antonia and Derek fishing and walking by the banks of the river. Parting cattle to load on the boats
Loaded boat down crossing to Santa Elena (Entre Rios)
In front of this town, on the other side of the Paraná River, stands Santa Elena (Bovril’s packing-house)
We had two good weeks of fishing and riding and when
Bovril’s cattle boat came over gave a hand in parting and loading cattle to
Sta. Elena. Another interesting
experience was crossing cattle to “Cambuí” island. For that bullocks were used to lure the
cattle crossing the river whilst we rowed along side.
Horses were ready on the island to help disperse the cattle
to the better grass land. So the good time ended and returned home by train
With my Father-in-Law
we were able to get a very good bank loan and, having bought a piece of land,
four blocks away from Adrogué station we started building our homes. We both put a lot of personal work into it
but due lack of funds we had to stop, after we had roofed both houses.
During that year, on the 4th of August my son Henry was
born. So at the end of the year Antonia left the Bank.
During Christmas we had the bad news my Grandfather, who
lived in the town of Balcarce
(Bs.As.) suddenly passed away. I flew to Mar
del Plata and then to Balcarce (60Km.) to attend his
funeral. He was a most interesting man, majored in chemistry and also a
dentist, had been born in 1876 and lived an interesting period of Argentine
history which he was very versed and could talk of many historical facts.
1959- Still enjoying the sheep market and on to 4th .year High
School.
Since our marriage we spent most of our week-ends at my
in-laws at Transradio. This Company that had 800 hects.of land adjoining to all
the Ezeiza fields and had areas of marshes and streams that I was able to have
long treks and sometimes the local policeman would lend me his horse and I rode
through the camps.
Two years running, during May, flocks of duck used to settle
in the area and with my .22 rifle go out shooting. My Mother-in-Law being a very good cook made
special treats with the hunted ducks.
Another year we had several floods due to the Matanza river
overflowing. Together with my Father-in-law we used to take the Co´s boat and
row round the area.
All things used to happen, as another year we had such a
draught that even the marshes dried up and there discovered the amount of
existing fish, mostly of a very big size.
So we also had some fishing that Pilar cooked away to our delight.
1960- Our second son Charlie arrived and I, finally,
graduated. Many thanks must be given to Messrs. Reilly and Affleck as in many
occasions exempted me from office work that I might be able to study.
All these years we made a habit of visiting Dad at the
Hospital: On Sundays with the family. Although Dad was bed-ridden and had lost
his speech, mentally he was very fit and being able to have on his bed his two
first Foster grandsons gave him great pleasure.
On Thursday afternoons we would drop in to visit him with
his good friend Eric Meek and his jokes and stories made not only Dad, but
other patients in the ward shriek with laughter. So much so that even the
nurses used to come and watch.
During the years in the Anglo Cecil Simpson (Simmy) and I
became very good friends A born outdoor man and good at hunting and fishing and
also good cook. He often went hunting guanaco, wild goat and antelope in Sierra
de la Ventana and Huanguelén (Prov.of Buenos Aires). He had an excellent eye
sight and could detect a guanaco from far away amongst the rocks of the hills.
This type of hunting has never met with my approval. However
I enjoyed shooting partridge and fishing together with Simmy.
We often went fishing in the lagoons of Monte and Lobos
(B.As. province.) To get there we would take trains which, still, in those
years were good to travel by.
Another time part of the Sheep-Buyers team: Simmy, Andres
Cappa, Raymond Cogswell and others went fishing in a stream, at a camp near the
town of Magdalena
(Prov.of Bs.As.) The fishing was not very good but Simmy cooked an excellent
barbecue.
The top of the fishing came in the month of December when we
traveled together with a friend and his jeep to the northern tip of the Samborombón Bay
to the town of General Lavalle.
From there we were taken, by launch, to settle in one of the many islets in the
“Ajo estuary” where we set up our tent and spent three days of excellent
fishing..
The area was surrounded by heavy marshes and shrub and had
been told that when the Paraná river flooded
it left all sorts of things in the area.
Therefore it was not surprising when, on the second day,
when I made my way to our tent amongst the marshes I came face to face with a
rattle snake…… I jumped the two meters down the embankment.
One of the mornings we had a very good catch of “corvinas”.
Simmy got us to make a pile of dry grass, gutted the fish, set them into the
pile of dry grass and set fire to it. When the fire died out he scaled them and
we eat delicious smoked fish.
1961 - Sometime during this year we again visited Brother
Digby and family who was now administrating a camp in the province
of Salta - “Suri Pozo” in the town of Joaquin V. Gonzalez
We took the train at Retiro station which was named “Cinta
de Plata” which was supposed to be air conditioned. The only coach air
conditioned was the restaurant carriage.
However we had a comfortable room, well attended by a porter.
Arrived at Metán (Salta)
and there was Digby with his pick-up to take us to the camp.
I had never been in such a “dirty” camp with so much bush
and forest, with a good variety of snakes (lampalagua, yarará, and Coral)( the
Coral is rather a small snake with beautiful rings surrounding its body and is
extremely poisonous) and tick falling
from trees down your neck.
The horses were on the small size, ideal for going through
the bushes. However, on one occasion, whilst riding I spotted a partridge and,
with my .22 revolver I shot at it, missed (but must had had quite a fright)
However my horse bolted, once calmed we continued our
journey. On the second occasion that I spotted a partridge, no sooner I mounted
my revolver that the click once again put the horse in a panic… so I holster my
gun and that was that.
However, another
morning trotting down a lane I became face to face with a beautiful deer, we
stared at each other for a long moment and then off he went.
On the Sunday we went for lunch to Mr Trollinger and family.
He was the administrator of a huge camp belonging to the Corbett family.
During July Dad passed away.
His dream had been to visit England again, 1934 being the last
year he had been on Home Leave. When about to travel in 1939 war broke out and
then in 1947 the railways were sold and contracts were cancelled. However
before falling ill his plans had been to visit his old school and army
friends. Life sometimes can be very
unjust.
1961- Still at the Sheep Market and Raymond Cogswell came to
work with us. The constructions an Adrogué were being continued.
1962 – Finally in March we moved into our new homes. Still a
lot to be done but we were home.
There was a lot of work in the buildings and gardens We had
a very large hedge- 70 meters long- that had not been trimmed for many a year…
so I axed and sawed away and had a very good stock of wood that helped expenses
and kept us warm during the winter months burning in our fireplace.
On the 28th of April third son Derek arrived.
In June we had a “Home Warming” so we had a big barbecue.
Cecil Simpson cooked and I remember the company of Tom Olivari, Ian Angus,
Bobbie Collie, Raymond Cogswell, Arnold Dodds and others I do not now recall.
Some came with their wives. Guests
departed as day was breaking and we all must have had a good time, even my Alsatian
Dog – Tex- who somebody had put some wine in his water and calmly slept all
day…I could not say if, next day had a hangover
1963- Was not an easy year. As the months went by the Anglo stopped buying hogs and
sheep and we were all sent to the Cattle Market We all had different chores and
I was sent out to accompany Ted Enoc to buy cattle in Santa Fé, with Gordon
Campbell in the province of Bs.Aires and with Raymond Cogswell to the province
of Entre Rios.
Things were not looking good and we could see we were really
overcrowded.
1964 - Things continued in bad shape and in February all the
sheep buyers were sent to the Packing house as night Superintendents. This
consisted in taking the night job in shifts from 4 to 12 p.m. and from 12 to 8
a.m. It was a dragging job. However it never occurred to me to leave the Anglo
but in May when
I was changing to get
back home I found previous Sunday Bs.As Herald lying on a desk. Scanning
through it I was attracted by an ad. of an American Company looking for
Territory Managers. After some thought
I sent my C.V. and that same week I was called for an
interview.
I was received by a charming Texan, who was the Sales
Manager. We had a long chat … I
mentioned I felt well in my actual job so, finally, he gave me a week to think
things over..
The following day I was working in the garden when Cecil
Simpson arrived and informed me he had bad news for me: There was to be a 50% of people being sacked
by the Anglo and I had to be in the office the following day for a meeting with
Mr. Judson…. At this news I started laughing and Cecil ticked me off.
So I mentioned to him not to worry.
So the following afternoon I was sitting at Mr. Judson’s
office together with Mr. Kenny and I was informed that I had been considered to
be “fired” but considering my family I was to stay on different tasks.
So I first inquired what would happen with the “Home Leave
Contract” I had always been promised.
When answered that that was out. I took my chance and asked
if I resigned I would get my severance pay.
Mr. Judson words were “Well, chei, you have a large family
where would you go” I answered that that was my problem.
So he rose from his
seat and went to see Mr. Gower and came back with the confirmation that I would
receive compensation.
So nothing else to be said we all shook hands and I left the
Anglo for ever.
So I phoned the American Co. and told them I would accept
their offer.
I cannot end this story without thanking the Anglo for my
achievements during those ten years: My family, my house and my College degree.
As a footnote wish to mention that G.E.C., Bovril and Anglo
are no longer in the country having left to invest in other more promising
countries.
However, all the
experiences and adventures depicted in this write up, camp life, as it was,
hardly subsist today as with fairly good roads, good cars, and agricultural
machinery, etc. that world has changed and many camp people now a days have
their homes in the local towns.
JOHN DEERE ARGENTINA
(1964 – 1975) I started at my new job and a new world, that I had not foreseen,
came into my life, plus a higher salary to boost and a big check from the Anglo
to help pay my debts…..
But that is another story.
Derek R. Foster
.JPG)
