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A Tribute to Bob Langeveld: A Legend Lost

Author: admin (philipp@thefuture.co.za)
Published: Fri, 10-Feb-2006




A Tribute to Bob Langeveld: A Legend Lost
By PH Alec McCallum

I had parked my hunting vehicle on the side of the road to take a quick leak when a Land Cruiser, with a man with piercing brown eyes in a weather-beaten face sporting a goatee, stopped opposite me. Clinched between his teeth was an old pipe that had seen better days. On his khaki-clad shoulder sat a small Jack Russell terrier, greeting me with a cute but intimidating growl.

His eyes studied me for a moment then focused on the decal on the vehicle, ‘McCallum Safaris Tanzania Ltd.’ before stepping out of his vehicle.

“I am Bob Langeveld, the warden here. What are you up to?” he inquired.
“I was about to take a leak.”
“I suggest you get to it before you have an accident,” was all he said.

Doing my business, I watched this rather smallish, wiry man walking around my Cruiser, peering into the back and passenger side, tugging on my railings to test their strength, and studying the bush bar and winch. Seemingly impressed, he leaned against the bush bar, his dog sitting loyally at his feet. He took a long drag on his pipe, tipped his head back to study an eagle overhead, and let a long plume of smoke escape from his lips, watching it as if testing the wind. I thought to myself, “Here is a man contented with his life.”

Little did know then how well I would get to know this incredible man around many campfires and rounds of scotches.

I returned to officially introduce myself, extending my left hand, which drew a smile from him.
“Any relation to Owen McCallum?” he asked.
“His son.”

Bob invited me to his camp on the Letaba River where we partook of several bottles of good scotch and became proud with ‘When we’s.’ I learned Bob had met my father when he was guiding Prince Bernhard of the Netherlands in the Semliki Valley in Uganda.

Once, at his house while he was working with Nature Conservation near Zebedelia, South Africa, after a few drinks we helped the late Peter Hathaway Capstick shoot all the paw-paws off ‘Bobo’s’ three trees, using the new arsenal that Capstick had just brought back with him from the States. Bobo and I have blown many rounds of his double .500/.465 endeavouring to hit spiders running along the wall of the rondavel, adding to the already excellent ventilation of the structure. We also backed up each other facing buffalo, lion, leopard, elephant, poachers, and so-called friends.
We walked many a kilometre together in Mozambique, opening roads in the depleted Coutada 9, and did more miles together in the C.A.R., opening new areas, hunting bongo, and dodging and chasing poachers. I even got to see Bob tackle a giant forest hog - old imperial style - with a long stick, his sheath knife tied to its end, yelling 'Tallyho' before charging into the forest to kill it.

Bob was a mining chemical engineer by profession. He’d worked in Uganda’s mines, but the call of the wild was so strong that he approached Major John Blower, MC for a job in the game department and got one, stationed in the Semliki Valley. He was also Uganda’s chief elephant control officer. He did that job so well that, until this day, locals still refer to him as ‘Semliki Bob.’

Bob met his first wife around the swimming pool of a well-known Kampala hotel. As she was of Belgian Congo decent, she spoke only French and Swahili. Bob spoke no French. So their romance was conducted in Swahili. They had four children, Cathy, Trevor, Kevin and Chico.

He later moved to Kenya, then Tanganyika. At Independence, with his South African origins, Bob went to Zambia and held the position of elephant control officer, mainly in the Luangwa. Capstick writes about his time with Bob there in his book, Death In The Long Grass.

Later, he returned to South Africa, joining nature conservation and developing the Tembe Elephant Reserve where a hill is named after him. From Zululand, he joined Transvaal Nature Conservation.

Then Gordon Cundill offered him the job of running Hunters’ Africa in Zambia. They were complete opposites, and the association was doomed to fail. One year later, Bob was back in South Africa, then on to Seattle, Washington where he was briefly married for a second time, his new wife dying of cancer after only a year. Bob said he was like ‘an old dog pining for Africa.’

So back he went, joining SAFECA in the Central African Republic. I remember his poker face overcome with emotion – I mean real tears in his eyes - when he got his client a 32-inch bongo; it was Bobo’s first. Hector Cuellar offered him the position of general manager of SAFECA, but he went to Mozambique instead and became Assistant Director of Wildlife, helping to develop the Maputo Elephant Reserve, and later the new Trans Frontier National Park that straddles South Africa, Zimbabwe and Mozambique.

He’s also responsible for re-opening the hunting industry in Mozambique, and returned himself as a PH to hunt in Marromeu, and later in Coutada 9.
It was here that I lost contact with him, as I had returned to Tanzania and Zambia.
Several years later, while visiting a client in Vaalwater, South Africa, I stopped off at the local gun shop. The owner knew of my association with Bob and informed me that he was very ill and staying with his son, Trevor, who trains game scouts at Welgevonden Game Ranch.

The very next day I paid the great man a visit. While sitting across from him, I thought about the places this man had seen and the things he had done. No man - living or dead - has shot more elephant than Bob Langeveld. The records of game departments in Uganda, Kenya, Tanzania and Zambia total more than 5,000. (The total for New Zealander, Captain Roy “Samaki” Salmon MC, the chief elephant control officer in Uganda, exceeds 4,000.) If you asked Bobo about it, he would change the subject. He was a humble man, and sometimes he found culling distasteful.

Once, Bob and I were attending a PHASA conference at Sun City. We were sitting at the bar with Botswana PHs Lionel Palmer and Willie Engelbrecht when an aspiring PH, accompanied by his rather striking, star-struck girlfriend, joined us at the bar. He had the whole kit: olive green top to bottom, elephant hair bracelets up to his elbows on both arms. He ordered a round of drinks and, while his pretty companion stared and sighed in admiration, proceeded to tell us in detail how his client had screwed up on an elephant hunt, how he had to follow it up to finally dispatch it. At the end of the story, the young hero turned to Bob, who was dressed in grey slacks, shirt, tie, and blazer with an old, faded IPHA badge sewn on to the pocket and asked, “Uncle have you shot any elephants?”
“ A few,” Bob replied. “ A few.”

At that, I lost it, and nearly jumped off my stool to teach the whippersnapper a lesson. Holding me back, Bob said, “Maco leave him alone. Don’t you remember when we were that age - full of spunk and vinegar, showing off feathers in front of any pretty girl. It’s nature, old boy. He’ll learn, hopefully he’ll learn.”

On May 9, 2005, at 08.45, I was working on my second book at my computer when my cell phone rang. Not finding it in the unmade bed, it stopped ringing. But the message read: 'Maco, it’s Trevor. Just to let you know Bobo died at 08.00 this morning. Call me back please.'

It was like a missed brain shot. I was staggered for a few moments, completely numb. I knew he was desperately ill, but never believed that he would actually leave us. Trevor and his father’s long-time companion, Helga, were at his side at the end.

Another legend gone. If only I had kept my promise to see him one more time.

When I informed PHASA, the girls in the office had never heard of him. But why should they? They only work there. It is ironic and saddening to think that Bob Langeveld, who greatly helped advance the hunting and conservation industry, is practically unknown to those who are reaping the benefits today. So much for the ‘Legends’ to the new hunting generation. I could add a few more bitter comments about how the industry neglects the ‘Old Timers’ in times of need, but Bob would not like that.

Forgive me, Bobo, for any angry words I ever spoke to you. Your family and we, the Old Timers of professional hunting ,shall miss you.

Cheers Bobo.
PH Alec McCallum

Bob Langeveld was a member of IPHA, ZPHA, PHASA, and GAME COIN and was recently invited to join the African Professional Hunters Association.

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He was also my friend and taught me how to hunt Elephants. Anyone who has ever hunted in Africa should know at least one person like Bobo.

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Lovu Zdar
Mick

A Man of Pleasure, Enterprise, Wit and Spirit Rare Books, Big Game Hunting, English Rifles, Fishing, Explosives, Chauvinism, Insensitivity, Public Drunkenness and Sloth, Champion of Lost and Unpopular Causes.

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