FAREWELL TO A FRIEND
Sometimes, the void is too big to be filled again.
Sometimes, the void is too big to be filled again.
It is funny how certain people have an influence on your life. Some drift past, like ships passing in the night, while others linger a while and make life easier (or sometimes more difficult!) and then abruptly disappear from the scene. Others, though, leave a lasting impression and when they move on, leave a void that cannot be filled again.
One such person that left an unfillable void in my life was Barry George Style. Barry was a professional hunter with Buffalo Range Safaris, one of the original four safari companies licensed by the then-Rhodesian Government.
The company was started by Barry’s late father, Clive, and in addition to hunting on Buffalo Range, the Style family’s 85 000-acre farm in the Rhodesian lowveld near Chiredzi, also offered hunting over the years in parts of the Zambezi Valley and other parts of the country.
A FIRST MEETING
I first met Barry in 2010 through a mutual Australian friend. One thing quickly led to another, and later in that year I found myself around a campfire with Barry in the Chiredzi River Conservancy (of which Buffalo Range now formed part), hunting buffalo. The hunt was a huge success and during a week of crawling after buffalo through the thick stuff under trying conditions, Barry and I became really good friends.
By 2010, Zimbabwe’s disastrous land distribution programme was well and truly under way and large parts of the country had been devastated by so-called war veterans, most of whom hadn’t even been born by the time the Rhodesian Bush War
formally ended in 1980. Buffalo Range and the surrounding areas were unfortunately not spared the carnage, though, and the grimace on Barry’s face as wedrovearoundtheareais something I will never forget. He was constantly pointing out landmarks or events that happened in the past, but instead of virgin mopane bushveld, vast tracks of lands had been cleared with slash-and-burn methods and the shacks outnumbered what was left of the precious game by a wide margin. It was tragic and painful to witness.
For the record, Barry was born in 1970 in Triangle in the south-eastern lowveld of what was then Rhodesia. He completed his schooling at Peterhouse in Marondera. After school he attained a bachelor’s degree in agricultural sciences from the University of Natal in 1994 before moving back to Zimbabwe to pursue a career as professional hunter with the family company. In 1996, by now a fully licensed professional hunter in Zimbabwe after an apprenticeship under Butch Coaton, another well-known Zimbabwean professional hunter and outfitter, Barry was made a director of Buffalo Range Safaris. Along the way, he found the time to qualify as a commercial pilot as well and flew numerous charters for his own clients as well as others.
A LOT OF MEMORIES
As I sit here, trying to string my sentences in an orderly fashion, I must confess to having a trying time. My memories of times spent with Barry are numerous, and although we didn’t always look down the throat of dangerous animals every time we managed to meet up, there were definitely some highlights. Barry stood next to me as I shot my first buffalo after a three-day marathon in 40 ºC weather, calmly pointing out the specific bull he’d picked out and just shaking his head with a smile every time I hinted at shooting another of the bulls in the herd in front of us. Eventually, our patience was rewarded, and we toasted the bull that evening with a fine single-malt whisky.
Another time we crept around in the darkness, trying to stalk a hippo bull in a sugarcane field. That evening was exciting, and it will be an experience I will remember for a very long time. There was also the time we were in pursuit of a large herd of buffalo. Eventually, after many hot and sweaty miles, we found them in the thick stuff and started a stalk. Eventually, we were so close that we realised we had crept right into the herd, and there were buffalo all around us. I will admit to a few hastened heartbeats but Barry was as cool as can be; he just took his rifle from his number one tracker, Kennedy, and sat down, keeping an eye on three old cows that were chewing the cud not ten steps away from us. When the herd eventually scented us and thundered off in an explosion of branches and a huge cloud of dust, Barry calmly stood up, handed his weather-beaten .416 Rigby back to Kennedy and started following the herd again.
It was all in a day’s work for him, and he was clearly a master at hunting the big stuff.
CLOSE BRUSHES
Everybody who hunts dangerous game for a living eventually experiences his share of close brushes, and Barry was no exception. His best-known “greatest hit” (for lack of a better term!) happened some years ago during an elephant hunt with a well-known American hunter. As they were closing in on a herd, an old elephant cow took exception to the hunting party’s presence and launched a determined charge, complete with flapping ears and screaming. Barry tried to shout her down but to no avail, and with no other option, Barry stopped her with a single frontal brain shot with his .470 NE from only a few paces away. The whole episode is there for everyone to see on the DVD Death by Double Rifle by Big Bore Productions.
Other close brushes include a leopard that Barry had to shoot off a client after the client had wounded it and the cat disappeared into some thick riverine bush. There was also the other leopard that only scratched Barry’s arm but eventually succumbed to a blast from his 10bore shotgun, his weapon of choice for wounded leopard.
Besides hunting, Barry’s other great love was flying. With a commercial pilot’s licence, he conducted numerous charter flights every year, often landing on small and bumpy dirt strips out in the bush. During March 2017, whilst conducting a charter flight from Harare to Bulawayo, Barry attempted to land at Bulawayo Airport when the undercarriage of the Baron 58 he was piloting would not lower. With no other option, he made a perfect belly landing and he and his two passengers, who, he told me later, were both shaken and stirred, walked away from the accident without a scratch. »
» A HUNT IN SOUTH AFRICA
Through the years, months often went by when Barry and I didn’t get to see each other. He was running a successful safari company and with his services as professional hunter in great demand, he spent extended periods away from his family. We would bump into one another at a hunting show or I would host him for a quick weekend’s shopping whenever he was down in South Africa, and I always kept nagging him to come and hunt with me in South Africa. Finally, in 2018, after much nagging, planning, and pleading, the stars finally lined up and we enjoyed a very successful hunt in the Karoo. For Barry, it was a first opportunity to hunt species such as red hartebeest and springbuck and I’m happy to say that he made the most of it.
Before flying down for our hunt, however, I warned him about the cold Karoo winters. I explained about the rocky terrain and how a decent jacket and a stout pair of boots were essential, but I could see the doubt in Barry’s eyes. After all, he always hunted in a pair of shorts and sandals and if his chosen attire was good enough for Zim, it should be good enough for the Karoo, shouldn’t it? Well, all doubts were dispelled on the first morning. We were on the shooting range to check the rifles one last time before going hunting and it was one of those cold, crisp Karoo winter mornings with a stiff breeze that cut through warm clothing like a hot knife through butter.
After the shooting was done, I noticed a somewhat pensivelooking Barry standing to one side. As I walked up to him, I saw that he was shivering from the cold and he looked at me and asked, “Is it always as cold as this over here?” When I said yes, he just shook his head and muttered loudly, “Well, thank f--- I didn’t get the sandals out this morning!” I smiled for the rest of the day!
THE FINAL ACT
After our 2018 hunt we immediately started making plans for a repeat in 2019, and Barry was especially keen to bring his sons, Brendan and Damian, along the next year. Fate, however, had other plans in store for us.
During November 2018, my wife and I spent a long-saved-for two-week holiday in Australia. We were due to depart on the 23rd of August back to South Africa, and we were staying with the man who had introduced Barry to me, my good friend Graeme Wright. I remember sending Barry a few pictures of some of the weird and wonderful sights of Australia along with the usual rude comment or two. He replied that he was just finishing off the last safari of the season and was to fly his clients to Victoria Falls from Chiredzi and would chat again after they’d landed. I sent back a short message wishing them a safe flight and, due to the time difference, went to bed.
The next morning, as I switched on my phone, it rang almost immediately. It was a friend from Pretoria, Francois van Emmenes, and from the tone of his voice I knew something was wrong. “It’s your friend, Barry Style. He was in a plane crash in Zimbabwe. I’m sorry, but he didn’t make it”.
It took me a moment to register the gravity of what Francois had just told me. At first, I just couldn’t believe that Barry was gone. It just couldn’t be.
To make a long story short, the flight back home was one of the most unpleasant experiences of my life. I was too distraught to sleep, not even with the help of a sleeping pill, and I just kept staring at the back of the seat in front of me. It was inconceivable that I wouldn’t see Barry again or share another adventure with him, or even just sit next to the fire with a glass of whisky, with Barry usually starting off the conversation after a day’s hunting with a raised glass and a heavily accented “Jaaa, swaer!”
It took me a long time to get over my friend Barry’s death. Finally, late in 2019, alone next to a small fire out in the bush, I raised a glass to my departed friend and said a final goodbye. We all have to cross the river sometime or another, I suppose, even though those of us that are left behind don’t always agree with or understand the timing.
Barry is survived by his wife, Kim, and four beautiful kids. I know they felt the loss of a father and husband dearly. For my own sake, there will always be an empty chair besides the fire.
Cheers, Bud. Here’s to missing you!