It’s one thing towing an Antarctic iceberg here... but what do we do next?

MR GIGABA has his hands full. First, he will need to restore his own credibility in the face of the Zupta tsunami that is drowning the country in ineptitude and graft; second, he must announce sensible and urgent programmes to cut away the weed that is fouling the propeller and inhibiting the country from working up to full ahead and on course for growth.

Instead of focusing on bailing out ailing parastatals, perhaps he can encourage the shipping sector to boost economic growth, to create real jobs and reform Transnet to become a dynamic catalyst for the growth of the many ancillary services that are vital to the smooth operation of our harbours.

Now that could be classed as real economic transformation! But while that tsunami inundates the country to the detriment of all, in the Western Cape, though, it seems rain does not fall on the unjust, or even on the just, and only desperate measures will solve the water crisis. For water, many look to Antarctic icebergs.

However, experienced mariners who have researched it thoroughly have discounted hauling icebergs from the Southern Ocean. “It’s not as straightforward as folks think!” a seasoned salvage expert responded to my inquiry.

“You will need to lasso quite a large one to allow for a degree of melt or break-up en route from the Antarctic,” commented another, adding that, while technically it may be possible by using a combination of tug power, currents and winds, the practicalities militate against the practice.

To move a wide, deep-draughted iceberg – especially in heavy seas or in the frequent strong winds in the Southern Ocean – towing tugs would have to be among the most powerful available. Yet, my source said, the average towing speed would only be about 3 knots – on a good day!

He wondered what would happen if an iceberg broke up while being towed across the busy Cape shipping lane with 18 000 ships a year. “Insurers of any ship hitting an ice ‘calf’ would certainly seek litigation,” he added.

“But what will you do with an iceberg once it’s here?” he asked. “Some have a draught of 200m and are too wide to get into any of our harbours.”

I suggest that it could float ashore at Gordon’s Bay, where huge pieces would be cut off for melting in a controlled pool. Meltwater would be pumped to the lower Steenbras Dam, whence the dam’s powerful reverse turbines could move it to the upper dam for purification.

In this column in May I expressed a similar idea. Laden with freshwater, a large tanker could anchor in 30m depths off Gordon’s Bay. Via a makeshift buoy and a temporary large-diameter reinforced pipeline that can withstand the pressure generated by the tanker’s pumps, the water could be piped to the lower Steenbras.

Such a tanker would need pumps powerful enough to overcome inertia to get the water moving through the pipeline to the lower dam, to counteract pipeline friction and compensate for other losses to achieve a decent flow.

The tanker should complete discharge at Gordon’s Bay within two days to enable her to run several loaded voyages to Gordon’s Bay, enough to tide the city over for several months until, hopefully, next winter’s rain arrives.

The tanker, a retired naval officer suggests, could draw fresh water from the 30-nautical mile-wide fresh water pool off the mouth of the Congo River from which over 41 000m³ of fresh water per second flows into the sea. The DRC government should grant permission – they owe us some favours!

In desperate times, we need desperate thinking and desperate, urgent action!