Good Lord, Deliver Us!

I needed to take a hike, I really did.

But to do it I needed a henchman. You can hike alone, but I’d really rather not, so I persuaded Stefaans Reed, The Big Weed, resident son of hizzonner the Worshipful Lord Mayor of Nêrens (aka Clarens) and fellow optometry student in Jo’burg to nogschlep along.

We sallied forth, rucksacks on our backs, boerewors and coffee and billy can and sleeping bags inside, up the slopes of Platberg, from Piet Uys Street, up past the Botanic Gardens, von During and Hawkins Dams, into the ‘Government forest’. The pine plantation. ‘Die dennebos.’ We could discern two types of pines. The type we liked had the long soft needles and made a good bed. We walked next to the concrete furrow that led water down the mountain into town. Often broken and dry but sometimes full of clear water, it made finding the way easy.

Gibson Dam furrow
– the furrow on top –

Halfway up we made camp, clearing a big area of the soft pine needles down to bare earth so we could safely light a fire.

Learning from our primate cousins we piled all those leaves and more into a thick gorilla mattress and lay down on it to gaze at the stars through the treetops. This was 1974, we were eerstejaar studente in the big smog of Doornfontein, Jo’burg. We had learnt to drink more beer, sing bawdy songs, throw a mean dart in a smoke-filled pub, hang out of friends car windows as they drove home thinking ‘Whoa! better get these hooligans home!’ and generally honed our urban skills. Now we were honing our rural skills. Wilderness ‘n all.

As we lay in our sleeping bags, burping boerewors and gazing through the pine fronds at the stars, we heard a loud, startling, beautiful sound.

I was wide-eyed wide-awake! WHAT on EARTH was that!? I knew it had to be a night bird, but what? Which one?

In the dark I scribbled down a picture of the sound. This is what it sounded like to me and I wanted to be sure I didn’t forget it:

sonogram-fiery-necked-nightjar

I didn’t know I was drawing a ‘sonogram’ – I’d never heard of that.

When I got back home I looked through my ‘Birds of South Africa – Austin Roberts’ by  G.R. McLachlan and R. Liversidge, 1970 – and found there was a nightjar that said “Good Lord Deliver Us” and I knew that was it. The Fiery-Necked Nightjar – some call it the Litany Bird. I loved it, I love it, I’ll never forget it and it’s still a favourite bird.

– they look similar but they sound very different –
Fiery-necked nightjar_2.jpg
– stunning nocturnal aerial insect catcher –

Next morning we hiked on, past the beautiful eastern tip of Platberg – some call it ‘Bobbejaankop’ – and down round Queen’s Hill through some very dense thicket, across the N3 highway, back home and a cold beer. See more pics of Platberg.

Sheila in the cosmos
– that dense thicket in foreground –

~~~oo0oo~~~

– here’s a real sonogram of the Good Lord Deliver Us bird –
  • Thanks xeno-canto.org for sharing birdsounds from around the world.
  • Those pine trees may be Pinus patula – soft leaves, not spiky. Comfy. Still an invasive pest, though.
  • A ‘litany’ is a tedious recital or repetitive series; ‘a litany of complaints’; ‘a series of invocations and supplications‘;

The Catholics can really rev it up – Lord, have mercy on us.
Christ, have mercy on us.
Lord, have mercy on us.
Christ, hear us.
Christ, graciously hear us.
God the Father of Heaven,
Have mercy on us.
God the Son, Redeemer of the world,
Have mercy on us. – and this is one-twelfth of the Catholic Litany, there’s eleven-twelfths more! Holy shit!!

~~~oo0oo~~~

Nêrens – nowhere, or Clarens in the Free State, named after Clarens, Switzerland to which that coward Paul Kruger fled cowardly after accusing my brave great-great Oom of cowardice. Ha! Who actually stayed and fought the war, huh?

nogschlep – kom saam; accompany

boerewors – raw beef wurst; just add fire

dennebos – pine plantation; plantations are not forests!

eerstejaar studente – first year students

Bobbejaankop – Baboon peak

~~~oo0oo~~~

– my rucksack – seen here on Sheila’s back –

8 thoughts on “Good Lord, Deliver Us!

  1. Lovely sound – not dissimilar to the one I recall you using to pick up birds of another sort at night, you sneaky little night jar!

    Like

    • ‘Tis true that at night we’d have a jar, then sneak out and TRY TO “pick up birds” – success rate was sad, though . .

      Like

  2. Steve Reed wrote: Loved reading that – shared it with Stacey soundtrack and all. Sitting at Hobart airport and thinking: We have the Frogmouth here. Also a Nightjar pretty much. So I looked up the Frogmouth call hoping for something similar but it sounds more like putting away the knives and forks in the kitchen drawer.
    Nice piece. Thanks for the memory.

    Like

  3. Pingback: Durban Nightlife – Bewilderbeast Droppings

  4. Pingback: Early Bird Books – Vrystaat Confessions

  5. I’m sitting in the midst of Westville suburbia, and thinking How can I be so lucky, because I’m being serenaded by a nightjar as I write this! Good Lord, deliver me nightjar magic aplenty…I can’t believe my lucky stars. They must be aligned, because what else did I stumble across?! Pete’s blog. How amazing is that coincidence. All thanks to a fiery-necked nightjar

    Liked by 1 person

    • Omigoodness, Gail! Welcome to my scribblings and beer-soaked memories where I confess to a delightfully mis-spent youth in the vrystaat and elsewhere. After I met Aitch the blog is bewilderbeast.org . I always say ‘I was led astray!’ but what fun. I’ll never forget that first Litany Bird I heard lying in my sleeping bag on the slopes of Platberg.

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s