Livestock Sales, New Face at Agricultural Advisors (AAI) and our First Trip to the Zambezi on the Zambian Side

Despite positive forecasts and cloud build-up, the rain did not come this week

Last week I mentioned I thought it was crazy that someone bought Ramaphosa's Ankole heifer for $365,000, which made me reflect that Africa is not the only place livestock farmers go crazy, especially when it comes to sheep, cattle and wildlife- yes, wildlife. In fact, it is in wildlife you find the craziest prices, with Peter Bellingham, a South African game rancher, buying a quarter share of a Cape Buffalo for R44 million, making the animal worth in total some R176 million- that is over US$11 million. Yes, eleven million just because the animal had magnificent horns. I presume this animal was bought to breed trophy animals for big game hunters. I put big game in brackets because I wonder whether these are really wild animals if they were specifically bred for horn size in captivity within a wildlife park.

"I understand the need for culling, and for controlled hunting, for that matter, but I am very dubious that trophies shot in what is termed 'canned hunting' are really genuine trophies and have little to do with conservation." - Peter McSporran

Those of us who farmed livestock know that what the eye sees in an animal's physical attributes and its genetic records doesn't necessarily mean those traits will be passed on. Remember, the female also contributes fifty per cent. I know from personal experience that, even when some animals have the best genetic background with excellent figures to back it up, the results don't always match the predicted probabilities. Only when you can evaluate a sire's offspring does any real accuracy emerge, and that is normally eighteen months to two years after purchase in cattle, longer in wildlife, and obviously less in sheep.

I mentioned sheep especially, as two breeds in the UK, one hill breed and one 'exotic' lowland breed, seem to constantly bemuse us with the prices they achieve at auction; that is, the Scottish Blackface and Texel both having achieved what I consider crazy prices. The Texels are the equivalent of US$ 490 in guineas, and a Blackface the equivalent of $240,000. Can that bring back a return? Only if its offspring attract another pedigree or purebred buyer who wants those bloodlines specifically and is willing to pay an arm and a leg. Further, if you look at the top-price sellers’ names, they are more often than not among a group of top-price buyers who seem to buy each other's stock at exorbitantly high prices. If you are outside this circle, even an expensive sire's offspring will be a challenge to get to the top prices.

“Over the years I have asked successful sheep and cattle breeders what they would pay for the animal he or she wants to improve their flock or herd. Every time it was the same: that is as much as it takes to buy it.” - Peter McSporran

I really enjoyed cattle sales when I farmed in Zimbabwe and rarely came back from a sale without buying a bull or a load of steers. I always seemed to make money on my steer purchases, which made the enjoyment even better, while pedigree purchases were more fickle to assess, since they only proved themselves once their offspring were weaned. When it came to bulls, your best guide to buying was to watch what successful commercial ranchers bought. I noted many of them returned to the same breeder year after year because they bought specific traits under a management regime suited to their own herd’s environment. One golden rule was to avoid buying overfat animals, but this rule was always broken. That said, when I suggested to one successful breeder that his bulls were carrying too much condition, he answered, “Have you tried selling a thin bull?” This was proven over and over at the sales, with the thinner, better-working conditioned bulls rarely hitting the top prices, no matter the breeding.

“For some reason livestock auction sales remove people’s inhibitions, and many a farmer raises his hand in the moment only to wonder where he will find the money to pay for it and what he will tell his wife whom he recently told that they cannot afford some essential household appliance she desired.” -Peter McSporran

In Zimbabwe we had three types of bull sellers, or should I say, breeders. Most were normal mixed farmers with a pedigree breeding herd as one of a number of enterprises. They relied on the auction house to market and sell their animals at best, with perhaps a couple of adverts in the Farmer Magazine for private sales.  Despite this, many were household names in the cattle world, like the Philps and their Sussexes, Francis and Cummingham with their Charolais, the Whaleys and their Herefords, Heins of Gweru South Devon, and I cannot forget the Santa De Gertrudes breeders, Swales, Crawford and Mallet. As for indigenous breeds, Dreyer with Afrikaners, Killeif and Fletcher with Shona and Harvey with Tuli. Of course there are many, many more; I hope I do not offend anyone by not mentioning them. Then there were those breeders who also had marketing skills; some, in addition to sending a few good bulls to the national bull sales, would hold their own annual sales on their farms or ranches, always with drinks available.

"As in the casino at auction you should never drink before or during the action. A rule failed to be observed by many at a cost." - Peter McSporran

Some breeders who had their own on-farm sales that come to mind are the Blacks of Selby who often topped the Angus, Brahman and Simmental prices; the Harts Charlois, the Piloshoffs, Grants and Somners from Bulawayo, Brahman and Beefmaster, the Odendaals and with Brahmans, the Irvines and Erasmases, Simmental, the Belinskys their Hereford and the Glanfields their Sussex, once again just to name a few. Then there was the third kind, the pure salesmen who could convince you to buy the poorest animal at a premium price. Here I include Sam Levy, Beefmaster, Johan Zietsman, Beefmaster and the best of them all, Roger Beal, from RB Ranches Brahmans, a master salesman. Do not get me wrong; they sold some very good cattle, but they also always managed to sell the tale, their poorer animals, at good prices. A real skill.  The first and second categories of breeders would generally be around forever and a day, most also running commercial herds, while the latter would top the sales prices until their salesmanship was proven to outstrip their genetics. Some may disagree, and many more are not mentioned, but these reflections are my own. 

Rozanne, Selby and me on the farm in Zambia in 2004

Back in 2004 in Zambia, with Chris Thorne leaving AAI to go farming in his own right, and with my now very diverse commitments, I needed someone to take over from him to help run AAI. It was further complicated that when Chris left, Creigh McMillan, whom Chris employed as our administrator, also left, so I had two senior positions to fill. Very luckily for me, one of the applicants was a farmer from Lusaka West, Paul Cartwright. At the time, Paul ran his own integrated broiler unit on the old family farm, Greenhithe, from chick to supermarket shelf. He had a good agricultural degree from Natal University and had previously worked with the then well-known Zambian agricultural consultant, Paddy Fleming. I first met Paddy in Zimbabwe, when Clive Nicolle retained him to develop the very large Beri Dam project on the Hunyani. He was a very good and well-liked man, so I thought anyone who worked for Paddy must be good, and that proved true of Paul. Paul, whose business model was sound, found it hard to compete with the Zambeef team and others at the time. They were the big players in the market, and their methods of retaining or taking others' market share would probably be deemed aggressive, if not unscrupulous. Anyway, Paul thought he should move on to something less stressful, and I agreed to take him on as a full partner to help run the tobacco scheme for us, along with doing work for the banks and any other consultancy that came along. I would say Paul brought a bit of sanity to what had been a hectic three-year start-up period. He was well known and respected in Zambian farming circles and opened many doors of opportunity for us which had been beyond my reach as an outsider, so to speak. At first, we also employed a local lady to do our administration, but when that did not work out, Rozanne, my wife, joined us, and she brought a new level of financial discipline to the office. In doing so, she sold our procurement company, APZ, as it conflicted. It had been a very successful enterprise. The first thing she did was try to collect our many, far too many, outstanding bad debts, which was a huge sum at the time, as Chris and I were rather lax in collecting from those who owed us, hoping they would pay at some point. Rozanne quickly pointed out that we lost not just the service time, but also the VAT on the outstanding invoices and the statutory payments to the Investment Centre, the Company's Registration Office, and other professional service providers. So, to clean it up, we wrote off a huge amount of debt; I will not mention the figure because I'm embarrassed, but I have no regrets, as we helped some. Of course, there were those who abused our generosity, and they are not forgotten and were not forgotten when other lenders made enquiries about them.

A large deep freeze on Des's truck at Gwabi. We thought it was full of food, but it turned out it only contained beer.

“The golden rule of business is never to fall out with anyone, especially in Africa, as the business circle is always very small in any given country. Zambia taught us this although it was in conflict with our Zimbabwean business ethic.” - Peter McSporran

To this day, we could not get over how Zambian businesspeople were happy to screw each other over in business and still remain social friends. I have an inkling the same can now be said of Zimbabwe.

Phil Vermaak, Des Bruk-Jackson and myself waiting patiently for a bite on the Zambezi 2004.

In April 2004, Easter, we decided to take our first trip to the north bank Zambezi. Until then, our only time off was our annual holiday, always a pilgrimage to the blue seas of the Bazaruto Archipelago. We had to do it as cheaply as possible, so we camped at Gwabi Lodge on the Kafue River, some kilometres upstream from the Zambezi, which was easily accessible by boat or, for that matter, car. Des Brooke-Jackson, my old Zimbabwean farming neighbour now farming in Zambia, and Phil and Lee Vermaak from Harare, Zimbabwe, joined us for a long weekend of camping and trying to fish. I say tried, as other than some Chesa for bait we caught very little.

Des's tent was well away from anyone due to his penchant for snoring.

I had forgotten how well Des could snore. In our previous lives in Zimbabwe, we were partners on the Shenga, a steel mono-hull on Kariba, and there we had learned of his snoring skills. Unsurpassed by anyone I have had the discomfort to sleep next to. Needless to say, at Gwabi he didn't just keep us awake, but the whole camp, mainly because we moved him as far as possible from where we were sleeping. The other thing: for some reason, his feet extended beyond his tent; I presume the snoring also deterred any passing hyena or honey badger. To ease our pain and ensure sleep each night, we would make a pilgrimage to the bar and make friends with the Fullers, whose daughter wrote the best-selling book, ‘Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight’. The book was very much about her upbringing and parents, and so we could relate to them very easily, having gone, like them, through the war in Rhodesia and some tough times in Zimbabwe. Later, she wrote a book based on the character of another friend of mine, Dave Ottman, titled ‘Scribbling the Cat ’, which I thought was rather cruel in her semi-fictional reminiscences. A little bit more about our Gwabi trip next week.

Disclaimer: Copyright ©️ Peter McSporran. This blog reflects my personal views and recollections, expressed in good faith. It does not represent any company or organisation, and references to others are not intended to cause offence or invade privacy.