Lime Kiln at Yzerfontein

Before taking the R27 northwards along the West Coast, I crossed the road to inspect the lime kiln on the way to Yzerfontein. This one is a National Monument, well cared for by a caretaker whose cottage lies just behind it. Motorists may stop and enter the enclosure to see a close-up of one of the most important contributions to civilisation. I did not know this myself, but in Morgan’s Run by Colleen McCullough, (a book I have mentioned on this blog before), it is well explained: when a settlement starts, there are usually only wooden structures, and only if people could get hold of cement, could they start rising a town with proper buildings.

350 Years ago when the Dutch started the refreshment station at the Cape, they built these lime kilns to burn mussel shells to use as a binding material. It is built from limestone that can not crack and burst when heated and has a layer of mesh above the oven. Mussel shells, of which one can still collect by the ton full onYzerfontein’s famous ‘sixteen-mile beach’, were layered with dry wood before the whole lot was fired. After some time the fine ash would fall through the grid. The enclosure where it was then mixed with water and left to dehydrate is also visible in my picture. The resultant stuff could be used for a binding material similar to cement. When mixed with salt, also found on the West Coast, and animal fat, it became thick pure white limewash to protect and embellish those lovely Cape Dutch and West Coast buildings.

The kiln was still used as late as 1976. There is also a one-third scale miniature replica of a lime kiln next to the Yzerfontein Tourism Buro building, the thatched building I painted in April and called A Rare Gem. I have loaded three paintings this morning. Be sure to read the other two stories below.

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Lonely, lonely

As the crow flies, I am only 8 kilometers from Bokbaai. Not by road though! All the soil around here is pure loose damp sand, thus the road becomes a challenge of driving on both left wheels, then sort of jump over the ridge and drive on both right wheels, all at high speed. Did I mention the rain?

When the road comes to an end you start walking over a small hill before getting the first glimpse of the house, over 300 years old and vacant. I hope I can express in my painting the total forlorn-ness of this first impression of a once majestic homestead. It lies a few meters above a little bay, which on this particular day was as grey as the sky, as grey as the open sea, as grey as the mountain and the crushed mussel shells with which the yard is paved. The three enormous almost black Norfolk pines standing sentinel, could not be placed better to strenghen the feeling of desolation.

This is only the small side of a very long house and my next painting will show more and relate some of the history connected to the house.

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