by John Bassi (Jacana Media, R225)
This book would interest conservationists and lovers of African history. But for bush-flyers capturing and relocating game, it is a must.
It mainly tells the story of 16 000 flying hours throughout southern Africa. How the editor let phrases like “gooks” and “terrorist” slip through is astonishing given the time we live in.
Perhaps it reflects the “reality” of the writer, a reality overshadowed by “… the broken remnants of home”.
A home that afforded him a beautiful childhood, but marred by the violent liberation war in the then Rhodesia, that eventually saw his family emigrating to Australia.
But this is not a tale of darkness; it is a story of triumph over circumstance.
For Bassi, the intrinsic belief “that life is indeed too precious to waste…” always saves the day no matter how many knocks life deal him.
Pilot in the Wild is where passion for wildlife meets passion for planes.
It tells the story of someone who rose from flying microlights to owning a fleet of helicopters, creating the highly respected Bassair that now focuses on game census and ecological surveys.
Bassi’s story starts in the Sabie valley in 1979, when the author describes a life-defining moment while fighting with the Selous Scouts – an elite group in the Rhodesian Army.
While on patrol, operating as trackers alongside the Rhodesian Light Infantry, they stumbled upon enemy soldiers and a dehorned rhino.
After the skirmish they discovered 10 rhino horns in the sacks their adversaries were carrying.
He describes this as the beginning of the end for Zimbabwe’s rhinos (a foreboding to the South African reality he would face later). For Bassi that incident turned out to be the beginning of a lifetime dedicated to conservation.
In 1979 he turned to a fellow soldier and declared: “I am going to dedicate the rest of my days to protecting wildlife. It’s the most urgent task on earth.”
This book depicts in detail how he followed his dream and became one of the most respected aerial conservationists in southern Africa.
If the book was a QuickTime-movie you could fast forward to the last chapter – Losing Battle – only to be left with dampened spirits.
The chapter depicts a sense (backed by statistics) that Africa’s poaching problem cannot be stopped and halting the eradication of our continent’s wildlife is a losing battle – and the author’s life’s work might have been in vain.
But it is this bitter realism that lifts the book to stand as a dynamic and authoritative reflection on an era of wildlife conservation, lifting it high above a mere gung-ho description of capturing and relocating wildlife in hair-raising circumstances.
This books points unflinchingly to the terrifying truth of rhino poaching – and shows how conservationists like Bassi unwittingly ended up slap-bang in the “destruction, violence and betrayal” that South Africa’s rhino wars are creating in the conservation fraternity.
It provides a unique glimpse into an adventurous way of life and brings a bird’s eye view to the last two decades of game capture.
The destruction of our wild places forms a terrifying backdrop to this story – and if Bassi was called into the witness box by divine powers, he would present unique evidence of the obliteration of nature, given the vastness of the areas he covered by air over more than two decades.
In the opening chapter, the love of nature sings in detailed descriptions: the bush comes alive with the sounds of cicadas, while the death of a fighter is framed with a telling phrase “when the skirmish ended… the sad hooting of a green spotted dove reigned supreme.”
Throughout the book there are fascinating facts, whether it tells of the stocking of Madikwe Game reserve with animals – 28 species reintroduced into 70 000 hectares – or the joy of flying in the “Mountain of Spears”.
The challenges of game capture and unpredictable animal behaviour unfold.
The book provides a perspective on the world of wildlife vets and pilots and points to the author’s knowledge of how various animal species behave when chased by helicopter.
The author touches on the reality of culling, animal-TB and anthrax, drawing an accurate picture of the adventure and intricacy of game surveys, game counts, radio collaring and capture of aggressive animals.
What fascinated me most about this book is the subtext which constantly reflects on the sad and challenging reality of wildlife conservation in Africa. This is not a book of blind passion.
A touching sketch like that of the Mozambican Ndonga – who like many other poor Mozambicans, ended up in the stomach of a lion while seeking a better life in South Africa – points to the author’s acute awareness of reality.