For me personally, 2007 has not been the best of years. As many of you know, my dear friend and long time hunting partner, Jim Scarborough passed away in October. Yesterday, I received word that Gordon Cormack, my Professional Hunter friend of even longer acquaintance, lost his battle with cancer on the 30th of December.
Gordon was the last of the active, old time ‘White Hunters” - and he was the ‘real deal’. He wasn’t a farmer, doctor or accountant who sometimes guided clients in Africa. Hunting was his full-time, and only, vocation, as well as his chosen avocation. He was born in Tanga, Tanganyika, and shot his first elephant at age twelve. His professional hunting career began at age 18, when he became a professional ‘game culler’ - when the term meant one who hunted for the commercial market; for meat, skin and leather. His pay was based solely on the pounds of non-bloodshot meat he produced; and all the hunting was done on foot! During his long PH career, Gordon hunted and guided in almost all the fabled game areas and countries of Sub-Saharan Africa; for most every species available.
Gordon’s bush and hunting skills were pressed into service by the British South Africa Police, as a member of the Combat Tracker Unit. During the Rhodesian War he became a founding member of the Selous Scouts, serving on the candidate selection panel, teaching tracking skills, and also as a scout during combat operations. Three times, he survived land mine attacks on vehicles he was traveling in and, though severely injured each time, he returned to service after each. He also managed to continue actively guiding clients during this period, between call-up.
It was during this time, right at the height of the Rhodesian War, that I first met and hunted with Gordon. Because of the danger presented by hostilities, Gordon was the only PH operating anywhere in the Zambezi Valley, and the lack of hunting meant the area was a game paradise. On that first hunt, we were routed out at least once every day by truculent Black Rhino; the typical Cape buffalo herd we encountered numbered into the hundreds; we saw herds of eland numbering well over a hundred members; and now-scarce game, such as waterbuck, almost littered the valley’s grassy plains.
Gordon’s knowledge of the world he called his own was far greater than just of the animals he and his clients hunted. It was virtually impossible to encounter any plant or insect that he couldn’t rattle off the common, native and scientific name for. Twice, I saw Meg Coates Paulgrave, co-author of “Trees of Southern Africa”, seek Gordon out, as an authoritative source of the distribution of much of the flora of Southern Africa. He was also incredibly well-read, and could knowledgeably discuss subjects as diverse as art of the Ming Dynasty or the sculptures of Michael Angelo to the social and economic ramification of the industrial revolution and the Generals and battles of the American Civil War.
Gordon was a great fan of Roy Rogers, and one of my greatest memories will always be when Gordon and I, far in the African bush, received word on the radio that Roy had passed away that day. We set up our battery-operated tape player, broke out our best ‘emergency supply’ of good Scotch and Bourbon and had a wake that lasted until dawn - as the two of us listened to every Roy Rodgers song we had, over and over.
As best I could ascertain a few months ago, Gordon was the longest-active (most years of experience) full-time PH still actively guiding, anywhere in Africa; and the second most experienced African PH still alive. I last visited Gordon earlier this year, shortly after he was diagnosed with cancer. Though he was forced to live solely on liquids and liquified food, consumed through a tube inserted into his stomach, we still ventured forth for a few days afield - and I’m so glad I could share those few final campfires with him. Afterwards, though racked by pain, Gordon took the time to write a forward for the book I hope to have published someday.
I cannot express the void that Gordon’s passage has left in my life and my heart. He was my dear friend and mentor. I consider myself a pretty fair hunter and a far better than average tracker, largely because of what I learned from Gordon during our many trips together, but never, even in my wildest dreams, will I ever be anywhere nearly so skilled as he. He was the consummate African Professional Hunter; the last genuine “White Hunter” of Old Africa. His passing marks the end of an era, and I morn the passage of both; a man and a world that others will never again be fortunate enough to know.
Go well, my Amigo. Happy Trails To You.
Ed
Topic: End of an Era (Read 1244 times)
