Cataclysmic Disaster Could Happen at Any Time - Even to You

Facing the possibility of death is an ever present danger in all of our lives - and indeed some people even go out of their way to tempt fate because of the adrenalin rush it provides - not unlike the bungee jumper.

But when you are posted to an obscure bush copper mine in little Zimbabwe, one hardly expect us to have the possibility of death shoved in your face as part of the daily routine.

Most folk do not realise just how dangerous underground mining can be, mainly because the activities are carried on out of sight, deep in the bowels of the earth.

My first close shave underground was being involved what is euphemistically called a "seismic event". It is the underground equivalent of an earthquake. The whole excavation shook, and large boulders came tumbling down from the roof, all around me. Strangely though, I was not in the least bit scared at the time - it was more a feeling of excitement. The naiveté and exuberance of youth perhaps? Importantly though, nobody died that day.

Miners in general tend to be very superstitious, and many are convinced that there are "Tokoloshes" (spirits or ghosts) silently flitting around the mined out back areas, forever unable to find their way out to the surface.

I became involved in mine rescue work at an early age - first as an ordinary member, and then later as Captain of what is called a Mine Proto Team. As a member of this elite squad one was expected to make oneself available for rescue operations not only on your own mine, but also for other mines. It is part of this group that one day we received an urgent call-out from Wankie Colliery (near the famous Victoria Falls), where it was reported that over 400 men were trapped as a result of a methane gas explosion in one of the many tunnels snaking through the mine. They sounded frantic as they told us that they did not have the facilities to cope.

Our seven man Proto Team from Mangula Copper Mine reacted very quickly, and we were flown up by light aircraft within 45 minutes. Our group was the first to arrive at the top of the incline leading into the bowels of the mine disaster. After donning our specialised breathing apparatus, we proceeded down the incline toward the underground mine workings. Halfway down we came across a large electrical transformer which had been blown up the incline - not unlike a torpedo, with stupendous force - underneath it lay pinned down and flattened like a pancake, what looked like could have been a man.

The further our team walked, the more signs of devastation we encountered - including blast-blackened body parts and the stench of death in the air. It very quickly became apparent that we could not proceed any further, such was the scale of the disaster and carnage.

Over 420 men lost their lives there that day in 1972 in a matter of seconds - they decided to just close the mine with concrete walls - never to return. Ironically, I had been underground in just that mine just three months before on a routine visit, never suspecting the tragedy that would follow. It was reported in a newspaper as "Cataclysmic Disaster could happen any time"Link to article. The circumstances were very controversial.

Earlier I made mention of the legendary ghosts that many miners believe are holed up in the old mine areas - so, was it almost predestined that one day, together with my mining assistant Thabo, that I was to wander inadvertently into just that - one of the spooky mined out areas! What was notable was the amount of extremely fine rock dust (about 18 inches - 500 mm) deep at our feet. What is called footwall in mining parlance.

The strange part about THAT dust though, as we walked along, looking back, was that we left no tracks - it had just settled back again as we trudged forward. Together with the somber, stygian in darkness being penetrated by our mining lamps, the atmosphere became increasingly threatening.

So Thabo and I decided to turn back. it was not to prove that simple. To our horror we could not find our way out. It is alarmingly easy in a crisis situation to become engulfed with utter terror. But luckily, Thabo had been schooled in bush lore as a young picannin by his wise old grandfather Nkululeko. So this meant that he had learnt how to read even the smallest of seemingly insignificant signs. Such as a broken twig, a torn leaf, or a foot scuff in the soil. But this was now in a totally different environment - we were underground. Our salvation came therefore from a totally unexpected quarter. Nothing visual. By now we were feeling very hot, and our breathing became more laboured. We must not panic I thought.

My senses responded when told that Thabo's acute sense of smell had picked up just a whiff of diesel fumes in our ambient air - so I suddenly realised that this was our key to our route to the main ventilation haulages where the diesel locos were operating. We made our way there without delay, following the smell to its source. On arriving in the main haulages and fresh ventilation, we discovered that had been reported as missing for over three hours. Subsequntly, the sweet smell of the surface air that day might as well have been champagne!

My brushes with death in mining have been many - enough in fact to fill an entire novel. But my contention is that no experience in life can have any meaning unless, somehow, one can extract the positives out of the situation. This is instructive both for one's own concept of the true meaning of life, and then the ability to be able to pass on that lesson to those who follow in our footsteps.

This poses the question - how could any person be expected to react to the many curved balls that life throws at them? Perhaps some folk would tend to become very spiritual, others cynical and withdrawn as has been the case with soldiers returning from the battle front.

For me, it has brought a considerably heightened sense of respect for workers, especially those employed underground, across the world. The unsung heroes - hardly ever portrayed in the movies, but courage and true grit epitomised.

The contrast in the attitude of those folk working in the relative safety of city offices, and often travelling like goldfish in a bus or train can be interesting. Many that I have listened to speak of stress, apprehension and hardship.

It is instructive to compare the demeanour of two drivers in heavy rush - hour traffic: One, white knuckled, aggressive, aggravated and stressed out mentally. The other, in the SAME traffic mind you....relaxed, laid back and smiling. Why? Perhaps it all boils down to one thing in life - our attitude. So spare a thought for the miners - along with the police, emergency services and soldiers, and many others we ALL tend to forget.