Moving Day

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…..