2 July,
2017
Knysna, South
Africa
Moving is
always a massive production. We have to gather everyone (we begin our season in Mosselbaai,
which may be confusing as we are the Knysna archaeology project. We are attached to a larger project based here), grab equipment,
and negotiate for vehicles, and snag leftover rations.
People are
the easy part. This year, about half of our crew came two weeks early for a lab season, and most of the rest were
excavating another nearby site. The Pinnacle Point sites, under excavation for
years, are temporarily wrapped up. However, another MSA (Middle Stone Age)
site was open in Vleesbaai. This site is exciting for its open air features,
massive dunes, and chance to probe the movements and lithic technologies of
these people. It’s also
got a rep for being quite cold (not sheltered by rock walls), and very windy.
The project
was wrapping up as we prepared to depart (Intentionally. We share equipment).
They closed site on a Friday, and we were scheduled to leave on Sunday, which
meant that we had Saturday to locate and figure out the field gear. This is not
as difficult as it seems, as we (I actually mean my boss), keeps a running list
of necessary equipment. Periodically, we update it, trying to remember to add
everything that we spent the last season wishing for. Part of the project (as
is necessary for any archaeology excavation) is the use of a lab. In between
seasons (read: non summer hours), SACP4 runs a full tie lab and employs local
archaeologists and others.
The lab
is currently located in the Munro house. Built around 1830, the house is part
wood, part thatch, and one hundred percent ancient (comparatively. Not compared
to the Middle Stone Age artifacts that we are excavating). Movement in the
attic sends dust flaking down onto cringing individuals. The building, a historic
landmark, cannot be repaired without extensive paperwork, as it must be
restored not simply fixed. Sometimes it is in various stages of disrepair as we
wait for paperwork to catch up to the problem.
The attic
is a special place, accessible only by a flight of exterior stairs, uneven
stone steps clinging to the side of the house. A dilapidated wooded railing
perches precariously between the stairs and a vertical drop, but wobbles under
ones grip. I think that the stairs themselves would make Tarzan dizzy. Perhaps
I exaggerate, but I do haul a fair amount items up and down them. It is also
home to a giant spider, which poked an inquisitive face outside the door,
glanced down at everyone below, and then vanished into the depths of the attic.
The lab
itself is cold, cement floors and un-insulated walls. Two massive wooden tables
fill the main room, surrounded by posters presented at various conferences,
displaying the significance of the work. Boxes are stuffed under and into every
space imaginable. Artifacts are carefully laid out on the tops of the tables,
amid more boxes, and laptops, camera equipment. A display case of artifacts and
labels, faded pictures and dust, introduces the casual visitors to Stone Age
technology. Towering shelves of boxes of bones and finds crowd the walls. The kitchen
is even less well lit, cramped, a pot of coffee regularly percolating on the
dilapidated table. But, it has one enormous draw: no price tag.
Soon a
broad stack of supplies spilled across the stone porch. Piles of frame packs,
stacks of tool boxes (used for digging and gun supplies), sandbags, bins, boxes
of artifacts, tripods, and numerous small items in the process of packing were
counted. Several brave souls ventured to the attic, searching among the dirty
equipment. At one point, we set up two
total stations to give people practice gunning. It was a bright, sunny day, obscenely
warm for winter, but we didn’t
complain.
When
everything was finally ready (just kidding, only everything that we located),
we headed back to the house for dinner and some dungeons and dragons. D&D
(for those who, like me, have never played), is the ultimate ad-lib role
playing comedic fantasy game. I derive great pleasure from observing my fellow
gamers, who were spending equal amounts of time attacking each other as
attacking enemies. After what felt like ten minutes (two hours in real time and
I don’t know how long in the
game), we decided on an impromptu visit to Die Dekke.
Die Dekke
(the Deck), is an enclosed deck on the Klein Brak river, which a restaurant and
dance floor operate. It is tradition to take one of the senior staff members there
for his birthday, yet this as a decidedly unplanned event. a series of phone
calls, discussion, and designating drivers, before we were all crammed
(literally) in the van, driving down dark and winding roads. We arrived shortly
after the kitchens closed, and were initially denied food. While standing out
in the frigid air, trying to decide where would most likely be open for food at
this late hour; the kitchen was reopen on our behalf. Several of us took this
opportunity to visit the dance floor; mostly free styling to whatever song was
playing. Dancing is mostly about the ability to appear coordinated. I'm told
that I achieve this coordinated appearance quite well.
Perhaps I will try my hand at poker next.
The next
morning was a scramble, waking up early after a late night of dancing. We began
to work out the best way to fit everything into three vehicles. Besides the previously
mentioned massive van, and we were getting two project vehicles and one
trailer. In addition to the 7 of us working at the house, we were picking up 4 others.
After quickly
separating the items which were staying and those coming to Knysna, we tackled the
arduous task of moving them down the stairs and the driveway. Much more rapidly
than anticipated, we filled up two vehicles with lab boxes, luggage, and food,
all essentials.
Cars
loaded, we headed down to the lab to pack the equipment. After thirty minutes
of frantic and hectic preparation, it became apparent that a second trip was
necessary. We issued a call for a volunteer to stay behind with the additional
items. After a moment’s
hesitation, I pointed out that the person lucky enough to remain here could
have lunch at one of the nicer restaurants in mosselbaai.
The rest
of us were less lucky, grabbing quick bites from fast food before beginning our
hour and half drive. Then, music blaring, windows down, we turned onto the N2. The
deep kloofs of Klein brock climbed, flattening
into the open area around George. Mountains shadowed the sky as we passed
through, golden light falling on tall grasses and rimming the peaks. The road
dove, negotiating the steep, sheer cliffs by Wildernis, clinging to the side of
the mountains as we descended, passing the deep blue crashing waves and
picture-perfect beach. lakes and bogs filled the open areas near sedge field, the
road climbing again as we crossed the now-barren and ashy mountains surrounding
our destination.
Quickly
we unloaded, unlocking the flats, venturing out to the backyard. The weather
was perfect for collapsing in a hammock or paddling the new kayak out into the
estuary. Naomi and I grabbed coke and hit the N2, reversing our route to
Mosselbaai.
Three hours
later, raced to the flats to unload, as we were late for dinner. Mario’s is a small place on the Knysna
waterfront. Floor to ceiling windows afford an excellent view of the bustling
boardwalks. Inside, a hodge-podge of tables are fitted tightly but not
claustrophobically around the counter and memorabilia. Despite arriving thirty
minutes late for dinner, the three of us got food first. Dinner was spent
refining the shopping list we’d
written during our drive, and trying to locate an open grocer (most places
close early on Sunday).
Moving
complete.
Now, to
make a list of the thing we probably left behind…..
