Where we explore the wonderfulness of serendipity and synchronicity

A friend of mine decided, about 10 years ago, to close down his specialised legal practice in Vancouver in order to take up writing as a profession. He was a guru in the negotiating and drafting of technology transfer agreements and he lived in a lovely lovely apartment in Kitsilano where one could see Mount Baker from the window, in its various daily avatars.

He had always had a passionate interest in natural history and the natural sciences but somehow first had to become a lawyer. Having done that, he sought fulfillment in fishing trips to wild and distant places - Northern Canada, South Africa, Suriname, Zambia, Mozambique, Tanzania, Plettenberg Bay, Cape Breton Island, Vancouver Island, to name a few. Stimulating as that was, he still had this nagging thing in him - his deep curiosity about animals and human evolution would not be shut up for the catching of a lake trout or a tarpon or the signing of a sophisticated agreement in Texas (also influenced by fishing, by the way). He decided to take time out of being a lawyer to write a book on the extinction of the megafauna (large mammals).

I persuaded him to abandon Mount Baker, Wreck Beach and Robson Street and to return to South Africa. My sense was that the book would come alive in the dust and musth of Africa - where we evolved, where the majority of the world's modern large mammals live. He took up my offer and returned to South Africa to research and write this book. Although he met people like Richard Leaky and Ian Player, and animals like Clive Walker's orphan black rhino, Bwana, those meetings (except for kissing Bwana on his snotty snout) did not influence the content of the book in anyway but rather gave him a greater sense of urgency to tell the story the way HE sees it.

He spent time in the Kruger National Park, researching in the wonderful library at Skukuza and travelling many many miles over numerous trips, observing animals, birds, insects and learning about trees and grasses. Each trip we took to Kruger made its own contribution to THE BOOK, which we started referrring to as Megafauna. When we travelled to the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park and explored the ancient river beds of the Auob and the Nossob he realised that he had to add a chapter on the Ice Age. When we stopped over in the Karoo National Park that belief was strengthened and the structure of the chapter fleshed out. When he met Bob Brain he had to revisit the matter of fire - when and where did Humankind learn to control fire? While I was watching the herd of elephants bathe and play in the Sabie River, he was watching the fabulously diverse microcosm of insects on a small bush just next to the car, making notes, thrilling at the biodiversity of it all, at peace with the world in a way that a deal to sell onboard computers to London taxicab companies could never do.

When he visited the Bryanston Organic Market (which is where I'm on my way to right now) he met a man who spins yarn from rabbit fur. In their discussion, his insights into the power of ontogenetic innovation, already thrilled by Clovis spear points and the mammoth hunts stepped forward to the making of thread and cloth and the creative power of human communities moved him to think more deeply about how human techniques of communication and social structuring must have served to contribute to the killing off of the large mammals of North America. He went home, pulled some tufts of hair from Kodiak, his favourite Siberian husky, and rubbed and pulled the strands of fluff together until he had made a piece of string, respectable in length and breaking strain. With that he disappeared into his study to map out his 'String' chapter and to make some modifications to his chapter on 'a radial different kind of faculty'.

The book eventually got a name: "Megafauna: First Victims of Human-Caused Extinction". He took on the popular sentiment that aboriginal peoples were uniquely attuned to nature and did it no harm, commonly advocated by well known folk like David Suzuki and more recently again trotted out in the sci-fi 'noble savage' myth movie, Avatar. (Which I loved and am definitely going to see again despire the sentimental story line.) He also took on the equally entrenched although somewhat less known myth that the last ice age caused the death of the ancient megafauna. He takes a dispassionate and in-depth look at the evolution of homo Sapiens and the impact we've had on our environment since we started walking on our hind legs, using our hands to make things, talking to figure things out and pass messages on.

The thing, as I understand it, is that from the very beginning, from when we were homo Erectus we started shaping the world - plants, animals, river courses, pathways, food, to suit our species' needs. We did so unconsciously, without ill intent, by just being alive - wanting to eat, sleep, procreate and enjoy life within the constraints we faced. By the time we became homo Sapiens the ecological impact of our species radically sped up - ethnicity, spirituality and political orientation had nothing to do with it. The only difference from then to now is that now we have the consciousness about the consequences of our behaviour - our natural behaviour in the interest of our own self-preservation. It isn't our fault that we're so highly evolved and that we've been destroying species for upwards of 13,000 years, but it surely is our fault, once we recognise the truth about our powers, if we continue to do mindless damage and fail to use our powers to preserve and protect what's left. The story of Adam and Eve comes to mind - our job is to take care of and nurture our planet, either because God will be angry if we don't or because we'll destroy ourselves in the process of destroying it.

And then, to get the book published. Everybody wanted to know what Baz's qualifications were. Somehow a degree in English and Fine Arts and two law degrees and a book encompassing evolution, paleontology, archaeology, linguistics, zoology and geology, not to mention climatology and some personal anectodes (in which I feature regularly) didn't seem to be a match. So we put it on the Internet, where it developed a small but loyal following from Australia, Russia, Germany and South Africa. Gradually it has taken off - the number of hits and downloads and the amount of emails now coming from that site is quite phenomenal - from all over the world. It is sort of working like compound interest - initially the growth was so small as to be barely noticeable; now as the visits increase they are triggering an even great increase in visits. These are exciting times.

And so who is this friend? Baz Edmeades, father of Eric Edmeades and Nik Edmiidz. Previously married to Delphine du Toit, when we were both much younger.

As for the book - where to find it? Well, for now, most of it is still downloadable/readable at www.megafauna.com