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Oak Valley
Oak Valley
SWINE-DLED – THE STORY OF A COCKTAIL SAUSAGE THAT COULDN’T
In 2021 we decided to auction off our livestock, both cattle and pigs, which precipitated one of the great deals in Oak Valley’s illustrious commercial history.
Valerian, a friend who farms near Napier, bought 6 mature sows. Our livestock manager tapped into his inner used car-salesman and listed them in the brochure as ‘likely to be pregnant.’ This added some enticing marketing flair to proceedings.
Months went by. No piglets. Not a squeak. It became clear to Valerian these sows were as barren as Prince Andrew’s easter stocking. Eventually our debtor clerk knocked on my door with a nervous request to ask if I could gently remind Valerian to settle his outstanding R12,000 on auction. One phone call and the debt was promptly and apologetically settled.
One problem was solved, but he still needed a fix for his pregnancy crisis. 6 expensive, empty sows wandering around Fairfield like disappointed Tinder dates. Browsing the stud section of Farmer’s Weekly, he came across an advert for a magnificent Duroc boar in Worcester. The advert featured an impressive close-up of a strapping, fit-looking porker – reddish-brown, muscular, clearly ready for life in the Fairfield harem.
The next morning, Valerian dispatched his faithful 2IC, Moenetsie, on a mission to retrieve the Julio Iglesias of swine. Armed with nothing but a lunchbox and ridiculously oversized trailer (the kind used to move a darted rhino), Moenetsie set off.
Nine hours later he returned.
Valerian wandered down to the yard, triumphant. But, this was to be short-lived and replaced by a look of utter confusion – porky was nowhere to be seen. It was the special look most farmers perfect after decades of being rogered by circumstances out of their control, weather, the Rand, fuel price, banks, but, in this case, he only had himself to blame for a total lack of due diligence.
It turned out the skilful photography in the advert had been doing some heavy lifting. What actually arrived was a tiny, bewildered piglet the size of a rugby ball, rattling around in the back of a five-ton trailer like one lonely cocktail sausage in a packet of Grabouw wors.
The farmer in Worcester had been equally confused when Moenetsie turned up with enough trailer to transport the Springbok scrum.
This meant the harem would have to wait.
To add the cherry on top, our debtor clerk later discovered Valerian had already paid the original invoice. It had been hiding under a strange Austrian reference (don’t ask). So the man had now paid twice for 6 barren sows and one cocktail sausage that still needed a year before it could even consider doing the job.
Our greatest deal ever.
As Valerian said to me later, with the weary wisdom of a farmer financially shafted one too many times…“This is why you’ve got shiny new tractors and I don’t.”
However you’re spending it, best wishes this Easter!
Take care,Christopher Rawbone-Viljoen
Managing Director, Oak Valley
