Guardian Angels
SIHLE XABA
In December 2015 there was a call from lifeguards at the paddling pools that a two-year-old boy had drowned. I jumped on the quad bike and rode there to assist with CPR. I have kids the same age so I was determined that this child would not die on our beach. When he eventually vomited up the water I was so relieved. My very first rescue was when I was body surfing and saw a boy being carried away by the backwash. I was a member of a lifesaving club and I learned to instinctively watch other bathers. I grabbed the torpedo buoy, screamed for the lifeguard, paddled out, grabbed him and then thought, “What now?” The lifeguard was chuffed and commended me. It spurred me on.
JULIAN TAYLOR
I’ve assisted in hundreds of rescues and saved between 10 and 15 people through CPR, but the most horrifying scenario I ever faced was a mass drowning. It was a Saturday in 2000 and a group of us were at Marine Lifesaving Club working on the Ocean Warriors event. One of the patrol ladies came in to the room. She was ash grey and couldn’t speak. She pointed outside and when we got out we saw a group of young guys face down in the midbreak. They had been standing on a sandbank that had collapsed. We raced into the water and brought them out two at a time. We even had to dive down and feel along the seabed to see if there were others. There were about 18 of them. These guys were all clinically dead. We lined them up along the beach a couple of metres apart and began CPR. Of course the call had gone out to all the lifeguards in Durban who rushed over. I think we lost two and saved 16. The bottom line for us is to prevent these scenarios, but if you have already drowned our job is to bring you back to life.
SANELE NXUMALO
The very first person I resuscitated was a two-year-old girl. It was the Christmas holidays in 2014 and I was doing seasonal work, stationed at Amanzimtoti. The parents had left the baby with a fiveyear-old and they had gone off to drink. A fisherman came out of the water holding what looked like a little bundle – it was the baby. I didn’t have a mask but I didn’t care, I had to save her. Luckily she came right with compressions. She started coughing and crying and it was such a relief. We couldn’t locate the parents. Eventually I found the mother sitting and drinking. She had no idea what had happened. I called law enforcement and told them to charge her with abuse. That’s the only time I’ve had to resuscitate. Our policy is to prevent – to resuscitate is a disappointment.
TATUM BOTHA
She was seven the first time she paddled out to sea on a board. The daughter of one lifesaving champion and younger sister to another, Botha, now 13, was bound to find herself in the surf, learning to save lives. At age eight, she became a Nipper — kids between the ages of eight and 14 who are taught the basic principles of surf safety. Botha has risen to the top. “I started for fun and then when I won the under-nine surf swims, I started competing because I found it easy. I would save a life if I had to. I wouldn’t mind becoming a volunteer when I reach 16.” Along the beaches in central Durban there is just one female lifeguard. “It’s not that women don’t have the skills,” says Xaba, “they do.” Unfortunately they come in for a great deal of abuse from the public. “If Tatum was with me on Wedge Beach I know that she would be as good as the next lifeguard,” he says. “I also know that I would probably end up punching someone for disrespecting her.”