In the May 2011 issue of “The
Bulletin” (the magazine edited by the Anglo-Argentine Community Council) there
are two very interesting articles by Miss. Katherine Kirby and Mr. Brian Browne
referring to the first settlement that took place in Argentina during 1825 by
200 Scots that settled in the area of Santa Catalina (about 30 Kms. South-West
of the capital city Of Buenos Aires.) Today between the towns of Lavallol and
Monte Grande.
The mentioned articles state the
situation of the settlers during the years they remained in the area.
But the following story is about
how it was nearly 70 years ago.
When I was a youngster, and remembering
how thing were in those days. Please refer to the map that follows:
The British Cemetery Garibaldi street
and was the only paved road branching off , before the cemetery, to Lavallol
Station. Garibaldi street
ended at the back entrance to Santa Catalina and on the left side, not far, the
British Cemetery
Other paved roads were Antártida Argentina to
Monte Grande/Cañuelas and the other was through the “Tiro Federal” both
crossing “Camino de Cintura”. The rest were all
earth roads.
From the cemetery, on Garibaldi, a few blocks towards the town of Lomas de Zamora we find the railway barriers of F.C.G.A.
In those days lived beside the
barriers a Mr.Brown – Manager of Firestone - the house is still there. Followed
a small entrance where you arrived at a farm pertaining to a family named Budd .Continued
8 acres of land belonging to Charlie Dodds´s (1933-1979) parents. Further on was a “boliche”. owned by a Sr. Mantovani. Crossing the
road two blocks away you meet the
cemetery grounds. On the other side of Garibaldi as from the barrier was all
“Santa Catalina´s” ground.
Today you still find the main
house of the Dodds´s farm all surrounded by houses.
Charlie and I were excellent
friends and we both kept horses at the farm which we thoroughly enjoyed our
many gallops at the time of open country roads. Together with the keeping of
the horses in good shape: bathing, scrubbing, shining hoofs, and greasing our
saddles.
We used to follow the railway
line towards the town of Ing .
Bunge where we met the Riachuelo stream Or perhaps followed the Matanza up river and sometimes, in warm summer nights,
sleep in the open.
At some times we were quite a
crowd on our horses, these included our good friends: Percy Collingwood, Oscar
Tufró, Carlie Ederer, Donald Peebles, Jim Risso and Arturo Banham.
Other times we took the horses to
friends farm in Tristan Suarez, stayed a few days trying to play a sort of
polo.
As to “Santa Catalina ”
many a times went on our horses through the beautiful forest and came out on the “Camino de Cintura” and then
on to watch a game of rugby at the premises of “Rojondí” where Old Philomathians had their club.
In those times SC was open to
visitors, this came to a stop when fire broke out amongst the forest.
I also remember attending big barbecues
for the 25th of May and 9th of July at “SC” where people used to
gather on their horses and “sulkys” (Few cars in those days)
Santa Catalina, I seem to
remember, was a farming school and in 1952 whilst working in a “camp” in the
Province of Corrientes we had the visit of a “Comisario” who came to the “estancia”
who had studied there before joining the Police Force.
However, not all our time was spent attending
our horses: we often, met with our crowd of friends and went to tea parties,
dances at Lomas Club, Queens Club, Marmol Club. St.Alban´s College and attended
the Caledonian Balls and Farmers Nights (with professor Starch), Community
“get-togethers” and went as far as Tigre Boat Club and Läviron (Train to
Constitución/underground to Retiro/train to Tigre . The return trip was slightly different
as from Retiro took the tram to Constitución )
 |
| Caledonian Ball A.D.1950s Above:Charlie Dodds, "Red" Glynn, Derek Foster, Donald Peebles. Bottom: Sybil Dodds, Martha Marlowe,Beatriz Zalazar, Brownie Waters. |
To continue with this story I
must mention that my Father and his good friend Erik Meek were very keen
fishermen having tried their sport in different rivers in the province of Buenos Aires
However, they took a fancy to the
“Rio Salado”. And many times caught the
train to Guerrero station (F.C.S.) spending many week-ends trying their luck.
This was around about 1940.But as the years went by they organized a two weeks
holiday during February, where a big tent would be pitched up either under the
route 2(to Mar del Plata) bridge or at a small farm near by.
Wonderful summers of rowing up
and down river, fishing and swimming together with my brother Digby or Erik´s
son Ronnie. Or later on a school friend all having a great time.
I do not want to enlarge on this matter because
the adventures during those years were so many that I prefer to write a story
only on that issue.
So on a hot February afternoon in
1950 Charlie and I drove the horses into the “corral”.
and picked three: Charlie his bay
mare, I caught “Rubio” my sorrel and a third horse the “Zainito” as a pack
horse.
My saddle bags consisted of two
haversacks: one of 1914/18 vintage (My Father´s ) and the second 1939/45.
All saddled up and parted the
Dodds farm. Rode down the “Camino de las Tropas” now Av.Frias, continued what
is now a paved Av. H.Yrigoyen and kept
riding South in the dark of night passing through Cnel.Brandsen to route
29 till we arrived to the Samborombón
river.
We unsaddled, took the horses to
the river to water, hobbled them so that they might graze peacefully, opened a
few cans for dinner, stretched our saddles and blankets under the railway
bridge and soon fell fast asleep.
Not much time went by when a
train came hooting at top speed and two of our horses panicked and went into a
bucking spree, except “Zainito” who kept grazing and only snorted at the
issue. Having attended our horses back
to normal we surrendered into a deep sleep.
Woke up, next morning, when the sun
was quite high, had breakfast consisting of black coffee and buns, saddled up,
and on our way.
We continued our trek on route 29
and branched of at Ranchos towards Chascomús. I remember that at some time or
other we met a horseman trooping cattle which with whom we traveled for a time
until we parted and when passing “boliches” people came out to find out where
we were traveling to and wished us luck.
The day turned out to be very
hot, and after a canned lunch of corned beef and beans, it got so hot we got off
our horses, took of our boots, tied them to our saddles and kept on leading our
horses in “alpargatas”
By evening we arrived at a small
bridge where a branch of one of the lagoons of the area flowed into
another. We were, by then quite tired,
so we settled for the night at that place.
Next day we kept on arriving at
route 2 and had a comfortable ride as the banks of the road were wide enough,
and as the weather was fresh, we were able to gallop.
We finally arrived at the Rio
Salado, on crossing the bridge I spotted my Father fishing in the boat in the
middle of the river. No sooner he saw us
he rowed as fast as possible and we met when we were going down the roads embankment
receiving a hearty welcome from him and Uncle Erik.
The small farm belonged to a Sr.
Domingo Ursino, who was also a commercial fisherman sending his catch to Mar del Plata , had
comfortable barns where we could sleep. The estancia surrounding this farm was
“La Raquel” owned by Mrs Valeria Guerrero de Russo. From the right lane of route 2, amongst the
forest you may have a sight of the beautiful chateau.
Sr.Ursino had, working with him,
a lad about our age and no sooner were we unsaddling he accosted Charlie to ask
him if his name was Dodds when answered in the affirmative the youngster
informed that his Mother was of the same surname. (?)
This was the year where we were
quite a crowd: My Mother (an elderly
lady of 49) and her friend Mrs. Hoy. (Mother did not take much to camping over
all these years but that year she really enjoyed it and I was very much
surprised when she went on a ride on the “Zainito” ) (Unbelievable). There were
also my sister Joyce (11) and her friend Irene
and Alice –
Erik¨s youngest daughter and others I
cannot recall.
The horses were comfortably settled in a closed paddock;
Charlie and I slept in one of the barns. All that happened later were new
experiences and surprises.
After breakfast we went to look
for the horses and as soon as they saw us came towards us, all three neighing
and snorting, so we would put on their bridles and ride bear back, all together
for a swim in the river. The horses
rolled in the mud to their content and were later bathed. Evenings were spent galloping on the Northern
side of the river as it was open land. However we could not go down river too
far as there were barb wire fences deep across the river.
Alice Meek had never ridden a
horse, but asked us to take her along on our rides. So having the Zainito his
own saddle Alice
started her riding experience.
Dinners were also great: Cooking
was good and later Erik use to delight us with his banjo.
The days kept going by in
thorough enjoyment and time to depart arrived. Alice asked us if she could ride back with
us. We asked Uncle Erik for approval: he said “Yes”
So, finally, the day came to
depart. The three of us saddled up and
“hit the trail”.
We left rather late in the day
and by dusk realized we were not going to get to Chascomús. So we stopped at a
railway station, I cannot recall if it was Adela, and asked instructions from
the Station Master who immediately offered us to sleep at the “Waiting Room”.
Right away his second took our horses into the station pen and watered and fed
them.
The waiting rooms floor was quite
hard and next morning the three of us were quite stiff; saddled up, thanked the
Station Master and we arrived nearly midday by the side of Chascomus Lagoon.
Charlie and Alice fell asleep against a tree whilst I took the horses into the
water to cool them down after which I went for a swim.
That night we arrived once again to the Samborombón
river sleeping under the railway bridge and the following evening arrived back
to the farm in Lavallol. We unsaddled
and left the horses loose, Charlie remained and Alice and I boarded a buss to
Lomas, accompanied Alice home and I returned to my Parent´s house.
We had traveled in total around
350 Kms. It was really a good adventure for us youngsters and “Green-horns” at
that. Little did I know that a couple of years later I would be doing 30/40
Kms. per day in cattle stations in Corrientes
and Entre Rios.
That was the year the camp site
and long holidays came to an end and although Dad and Erik kept their fishing
during long week –ends; the rest of us went our ways.
As life would have it I went back
to Santa Catalina in 1965, whilst I was
working for an American factory of agriculture machinery to give a lecture and
display on tractors and implements.
Most of what I have written comes
as a flash whenever I drive through Garibaldi
Street towards the Lavallol
Cemetery to say goodbye to friends
that have been called to Higher Service and I have a chance of seeing the land where
Santa Catalina stands today.
Derek R. Foster(“Dry
Alamo ”)
June 2011
PART 2
A TRIBUTE TO
FRIENDS:
In 1948, at a tea party, I met Charlie Dodds, we were both
about the same age of fifteen.
We instantly became very good friends and a few days later I was invited at his
Parents farm in Lavallol where he kept horses.
As described previously we rode and enjoyed our gallops
through the area.
A few months later Charlie’s
Father allowed me to have my own horse on the farm.
I spoke with my Father about the
matter and I was given permission to buy a horse and a few days later my Father
bought me a saddle I have never seen one quite the same : it was a “Colonial”
saddle complete with a set of reins.
With Charlie we rode down to
Tristan Suarez from Lavallol (about 15 Kms.) to a friends farm
where I was offered and bought my
horse “Rubio” paying $300 for this ten year old horse.
We stayed, at the farm, for a
couple of days. Then saddled up and rode back to Lavallol. I clearly remember riding “Rubio” down Garibaldi street
that fresh April morning towards home
to present my horse to my
Parents. Which was well accepted into the family.
He was a good horse, strong,
ideal for parting cattle, lancing, trying to play polo, etc. but he could be
rough and had his spot of devilish humour.
To start with he did not have a “soft mouth”,
so when excited was difficult to rein in. If in a race, as we often did, you
had to pull on one of the reins till his neck was turned and then he would come
to a stop.
There is another way to stop a
horse, if you have the courage, that is standing on your stirrups put your
hands slowly on his eyes… this will stop him.
However, a good friend of mine, Jim tried this one on the “Rubio” but
did it so fast that the horse stopped on his tracks and Jim flew over the
horses neck.
Other stunts could be quite
embarrassing, like visiting a girl… when girl no sooner came out of the house
he would pee and fart to his great content. Girl and I would flush….
Another habit he took on
was: when you set your left foot in the
stirrup and about to mount he would set his left hoof on your right foot, put
all his weight on it and turn his head looking the other way.
The first time he did this I thought
it was a coincidence. So I punched his cheek and he instantly let go. A few days later he again went through the
same stunt.
Another time Charlie, Ernst and
myself were having a rest, lazing in the grass when Ernst asked if he could use
my horse …. When about to do so I told Charlie: “Watch” and there was Ernst
waving his arms with his right foot under “Rubio s” hoof.
I enjoyed “Rubio’s” company for
over four years when I decided to go and work in “camps” up North.
Whilst I was away Charlie went to
a camp in General Madariaga and the´Lavallol farm was subdivided and sold.
Right away all the area was built in and all six horses just disappeared.
My return nearly three years
later coincided with Charlie’s. And after a few weeks he invited me to go to
our friends farm in Tristan Suarez..
To my great surprise I found
“Rubio” there. According to the foreman’s story he had been awaken one early
morning to hear the farm horses running up and down the in- fences and were
neighing and snorting and on the other side of the fence, on the road, was a
horse, galloping along……
The gate was opened and in came
“Rubio”…. Back Home.
To get there he must have walked
around 15 Kms through roads and
level-crossings. True?
As to Charlie we kept our
friendship over the years, in the ´Sixties” my Company sent me together with my
family to live in Cinco Saltos (R.N) whilst Charlie’s Company sent him and
family to Corrientes .
In ´69 we were back and we became
members of Lomas Club and played tennis with friends every Saturday morning. We
also attended “Camp Week Shows” at the Strangers Club,
the Caledonean
Balls both local and in town and most of the Community doos.
Our children were about the same
age as Charlie’s so they were of ten together.
The end of this good friendship
came to when my good friend, suddenly, passed away in 1979.
As to me I kept riding quite
often as I used to travel to Tucuman on
business and my brother Digby administrated quite a large “Camp” on the
Pre-Cordillera where, also, with my family
spent wonderful holidays and did
some very good trout fishing up the mountains.
Fortunately, I still do quite a
bit of riding, but not enough as I would like as earth roads, within the area,
have completely disappeared.
The last outing being: following
the Quequen Salado River
This being the same river that in
1876 Don Roberto Cunningham Graham and his partner George Mansel drove their
cattle and horses bought in the town of Azul
to their “camp” in Sauce Grande (Sierra de La Ventana) (Bs.As.) where they were
able to settle for a year till they had Indian attack and had to drive all
their stock and look for refuge in what is today Mar del Plata
The following photograph was
published in the Tourism supplement of a Bs.As. Newspaper
on two occasions :
Stevie,Charlie, Derek,Brian,Derek (Sr.), Juan Manuel,Henry,Erik Fosters
