After a short
detour (blogs 27 - 32) I have returned to our ‘spur-of-the-moment’ drive down 'South' to Durban in a vain attempt to get top South African agent Don Hughes to sign our group The Chequers so we
could turn ‘pro’.
The next morning after
the terror of ‘The ‘Ghostly Hand’ (Blog 26.)...
.... we set off bright and early from Jo’burg in Mac's green mini van on the final leg to Durban, a
distance of about three hundred and fifty miles.
I remember the
countryside we drove through as being a sea of gentle rolling hills which grew more
pronounced the further we travelled into Natal.
After about two
hundred miles the car started to lose power. We kept
going in the mistaken hope that the problem would somehow go away, they never do and our case it got worse. Apparently the
engine valves had clogged up, least that’s what the owner of the garage told
us.
We had been on the look out for a garage for at least an hour ...things had getting pretty desperate, the
Mini was making heavy weather getting over even the smallest hill. So when at
last a garage was sighted it was greeted with as much relief as the appearance
of a steam boat to castaways adrift on a raft.
The good news was
we had a problem with clogged valves, well Mac’s Mini had...if clogged valves
can ever be good news. The bad news was the clogged valves couldn't be fixed
for at least a week, as the owner of the garage was taking his family off to
visit relatives.
What were we to do?
We were stuck out in the back of beyond and still had close on a hundred miles to go. Fortunately a glimmer of hope was
offered. According to the garage owner the rest of the way to Durban was
all downhill, which meant it may be possible for us to coast most of the way there.
We had no other
option so we decided we’d give it a go. The garage owner was right;
it really was downhill all the way, in as much as each hill was higher than the one
that followed which meant the speed we generated going downhill took us over
next.
I remember there being a number of hairy ‘will we-won’t we’ moments but eventually we rolled sluggishly into
Durban.
While in Durban we
met up with the Etonians at the club where they were playing. Maurice Saul, their lead guitarist had converted a conventional 6 string Fender into a 12 string which meant numbers like the Byrds “Tambourine
Man” and "Turn, Turn, Turn" sounded great...or should I say lekker.
Late one night after the club closed Lea,
Mac and I together with the Etonians’ bass player Alan Roomer, wandered down to
the sea front where huge waves were crashing over the esplanade - spray was
flying everywhere.
This sparked off a dangerous but to us a hilarious game. Standing shoulder to shoulder we edged our
way to the sea wall...shouting to bemused passers-by that as
we were captains we would go down with our ships. In essence it
was a watery version of the game we called "Chicken".
I don’t remember
who actually won. The winner was whoever got nearest to the sea wall and by
definition came closest to being washed away. But I do know we all
returned safely to our hotel rooms - albeit soaked to the skin.
“Going down with
our ship” was without doubt the high point of our Durban trip – the low point was when Don Hughes finally listened to our demo tape and turned us down.
“Ouch”...a two thousand mile round trip for nothing. Maybe
it would have been better to have posted the demo tape to him after all.
We were desperate
to turn ‘pro’ but how? Desperate times needed desperate measures.
In my next blog I will recount how we finally managed to turn pro.
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