The Fishy Smiths

by Mike Bruton

  CHAPTER 28

  Fauna and Flora

  Reconnecting in their dotage

  THE YEAR 1968 had seen the deaths of both JLB Smith and Margaret’s brother-in-law, Robert Sholto-Douglas. In 1972, after retiring as a teacher, Margaret’s sister Flora (now a widow) moved to Grahamstown to live with Margaret so that they could reconnect in their dotage. This was a welcome development for Margaret as Flora, who had a happy-go-lucky approach to life and a wicked sense of humour, provided strong support for her during her last years as Director and first years of retirement. In Grahamstown the pair was affectionately known as ‘Fauna and Flora’.

  Margaret, now secure in her career and with her son successfully fulfilling his own remarkable ambitions elsewhere, could concentrate on developing an active, independent life. Although Margaret had achieved fame as a fish illustrator, Flora was the more artistic of the two and she brought colour and light into Margaret’s life and also helped to ease her work load by preparing meals, supervising the household and keeping her entertained. She encouraged Margaret to become her own person again and was a major factor in her ‘coming out’. Whereas JLB and Margaret’s house had been austere, with nothing decorative or luxurious, Margaret and Flora’s home was richly furnished with curtains and drapes. It was also festooned with memorabilia – Margaret was an avid collector of all things fishy, including fish-decorated cushions, ashtrays, hairbrushes, vases, cutlery, postcards, postage stamps, brooches, necklaces, fabrics and crockery, and developed a network of people who helped her add to her burgeoning collections. In retirement, Margaret also found time to indulge her love of children; nothing made her happier than having a house full of rowdy kids. She tended to treat children as people in their own right, rather than as undeveloped adults.

  Margaret Smith at the age of 56 years in 1972.

  They both loved music and singing (especially traditional Scottish songs) and Ian Sholto-Douglas (Flora’s son) remembers them having a ‘white vinyl record of Mary and Flora singing’ – ‘Mary’ being the name by which Margaret’s family knew her. Flora, in charge of cooking, was pronounced ‘not too good at fish’ (Horning, 1979), so that Margaret was relieved of a ‘fish, fish, fish’ diet. They loved to eat rich chocolate cake and indulged in huge meals. According to Ian, ‘the children watched in horror at the amount [Margaret] ate’.

  Martin Davies, who ran the fish farm at the Institute, remembers that Flora’s meals at Oatlands Road were bland; and that it was pointless spicing them up as Margaret had lost her sense of taste (and smell) due to formalin fumes.1

  Flora had a special aptitude for puncturing the egos of pompous professors and dignitaries, and she and Margaret enjoyed relating stories, to uproarious laughter, of their latest ‘conquest’ in this regard. Margaret’s favourite ego-popper, always directed at men, was, ‘I’ve forgotten more than he ever knew’.

  Margaret had a great sense of humour and loved to relate witty if slightly risqué stories to anyone in earshot. She remarked that watching a man change his underpants was like watching a hermit crab change its shell! Once, as Margaret sat in the front row of a lecture theatre waiting for a visiting academic from Cape Town to start his presentation, she whispered in Afrikaans, slightly too loudly, ‘Hy’s só lelik, hy’s mooi’ (‘He’s so ugly, he’s pretty’), which triggered off peals of laughter. Margaret and Flora also enjoyed hosting hysterically funny ‘joke parties’, where the humour was at times embarrassingly ribald, almost as if Flora was helping her to chip away at what Flora considered to be the academic façade.

  Nancy Tietz (pers. comm., 2017) remembers Margaret as ‘… a people person. Huge sense of fun, which only came to the fore after JLB died. To me she always referred to him as “The Professor” never “my husband”.’

  Jean-Pierre de Kock (pers. comm., 2016), who did odd jobs in the Ichthyology Institute as a teenager in the early 1980s, remembers her:

  ‘[She was a] strong woman not easily deflected from her course or purpose. Generous and caring to a fault. I can remember getting a Coelacanth from Rhodesia/Zimbabwe which was the first received on ice rather than formalin. Phil Heemstra and a couple of others were debating how to get a piece off to taste without her noticing. The first thing she said when she walked through the door was, “Right! Let’s taste it!”.

  Allan Heydorn (pers. comm., 2017) remarked of Margaret that ‘She had the gift of the gab and at times her incessant talking became tiring’. Many a highly motivated scientist, itching to get back to his/her work, got stuck in Margaret’s office during one of her lengthy monologues. This author made a habit of meeting with her 15 minutes before closing time, but she was savvy to this tactic and chattered on anyway.

  Malcolm Smale (pers. comm., 2017) of the Port Elizabeth Museum said of Margaret, ‘Jovial, very interested in people and anything fishy. A great story teller and always friendly and warm.’ Shirley Bell described her as a ‘robust, energetic and very likeable woman who was nevertheless a formidable foe and a tenacious campaigner’ (Bell, 1982).

  She always went out of her way to make new friends and delve into the family backgrounds of those she met. Once, after a flight from Cape Town to Johannesburg, Margaret so endeared herself to the other passengers that she was cheered off the plane!2

  In 1976, for Flora’s 70th birthday, Margaret took her on a trip to Europe and Alaska, the first time that Flora had ventured beyond southern Africa (except for a trip to New Zealand when she was three). They departed on 14th May 1976, headed for Greece, England, Scotland and then Alaska, where Margaret attended an American Society of Ichthyologists & Herpetologists (ASIH) conference, and then flew back via San Francisco, Miami and Rio de Janiero. Flora commented after this trip that Margaret ‘has the enjoyment of a child but the capacity of an adult’ (I Sholto-Douglas, pers. comm., 2016). Flora also accompanied Margaret to a Southern African Museums Association (SAMA) conference in Durban in May 1977.

  Cathy Braans, granddaughter of Flora, had this to say about her grandmother’s relationship with Margaret, her great-aunt:

  ‘[Flora] brought a huge amount of sunshine into [Margaret’s] life and [Margaret] was thrilled when Flora followed us from Jhb [Johannesburg] and came to live with [her]. [Margaret] had not always had an easy life and Flora filled that with laughter and a huge amount of mischief! They were always up to something! Aunty Mary never drank [alcohol] but Flora managed to convince her that ginger square was non-alcoholic – she drank it for years! My grandmother and her were two very colourful characters, my grandmother’s theatrics mixed with Aunt Mary’s larger than life personality and volume, meant that there were seldom dull moments, even in the Presbyterian Church. They were incredibly special and spoilt us with their time, knowledge and stories.

  ‘We all remember Aunty Mary’s love for planting trees and every one of them had some sort of fish fossil in the hole before it was covered up. She assured us this would make the tree flourish. I remember her laughing uncontrollably when Angus [Margaret’s great-nephew and one of Ian and Ishbel Sholto-Douglas’ five children] saw the coelacanth lying in the formalin. Above it was a photograph of the fish. He turned round and said, ‘Aunty Mary – that is the same as this fish except this one is having a bath!’ … Through Margaret’s influence Angus became very environmentally conscious, campaigned against the hospital trade in animals and today owns a private game reserve’ (I Sholto-Douglas, pers. comm., 2016).

  According to those in the know, Margaret did not display a good dress sense in everyday life but she could look very glamorous (after JLB Smith had died) when she made an effort, in bright, flowing dresses or shirtwaisters, with some make-up and extravagant fish jewellery. She tended not to engage in deep scientific discussions, especially in the company of Flora, but preferred talking about people and relationships.

  Later in life she confessed, ‘Sailing around our shores collecting fish specimens I found I got sick of the company of men. If I found a woman who could talk to me about lace-making or show me pictures of
her children I was thrilled, though in other circumstances I might have been bored stiff’ (Horning, 1979).

  Margaret Smith retired as Director of the JLB Smith Institute of Ichthyology on 30th April 1982, aged 65 years, and was made a Professor Emeritus by Rhodes University. She left behind her a vigorous and growing Institute containing the world’s largest collection, library and image archive of southern African and western Indian Ocean marine fishes.

  When this author succeeded her as Director on 1st May 1982, Margaret took on the role of ‘dowager duchess’, priding herself in dealing with difficult staff and officials. We worked very well together and she was the perfect ex-Director – always available for discussions but never interfering in my decision-making. She realised that I would take her Institute in new directions, but she was comfortable with that.

  As a young married woman Margaret worked for the Child Welfare Society, becoming its honorary treasurer until ichthyology claimed her. After JLB’s death she became involved with many civic societies, including the Red Cross, South African Association of University Women, National Council of Women, Soroptimists International, the South Eastern Areas Development Association and the St John’s Ambulance Brigade. She was also involved in many scientific societies, including the South African Society for the Advancement of Science, Barologia (the society for underwater sciences) and the Southern African Museums Association (SAMA). Although she attended many meetings of SAMA, she was not an active participant in SAMA committees and gave few presentations, but ‘when she got up to speak it was clear and very much to the point. People listened’ (N Tietz, pers. comm., 2017).

  Margaret making a speech at her retirement banquet in May 1982.

  Some argue that Margaret spread herself too thinly with her many civic engagements and was not able to make a major impact on any of them, although she was particularly dedicated to supporting the Red Cross and St John’s Ambulance Brigade. She was also assiduous about her involvement with animal welfare through the Trinity Church. Tesza Musto (pers. comm., 2017) remembers her being ‘involved with the terrible plight of the donkeys in Grahamstown. She would have harnesses made for them as they were used for carting wood etc.’ While she was still Director of the Institute, her office was always cluttered with donkey harnesses, boxes of stamps for the Red Cross, and the other paraphernalia associated with her charity work.

  Margaret was also appointed Patroness, Patron Member, Honorary Vice President and Honorary Member of many angling and underwater unions and clubs. In 1977 and 1980 the South African Angling Union awarded her their silver medal, and in 1980 she was granted the merit award of the Public Relations Institute of South Africa (PRISA) for her services to the Eastern Cape. During her directorship of the Ichthyology Institute she also served on the Faculty of Science and on the Senate of Rhodes University from 1968 to 1982.

  She was a Trustee of the Albany Museum, Honorary Curator of Fishes for the Eastern Cape Provincial Museums in Port Elizabeth, Grahamstown and East London (as JLB Smith had been) from 1968 to 1987, and also served on the Council of Kingswood College and the Grahamstown School Board. Keith Hunt (pers. comm., 2016) remembers, ‘Margaret and I served on the Board of the Albany Museum together and supported each other in debate. I had a lot of time for Mary Smith; she certainly deserved the honours that came her way.’

  The author with Margaret Smith shortly after he had assumed the directorship of the then JLB Smith Institute of Ichthyology in 1982.

  During her remarkable life she progressed from chemistry demonstrator and research assistant to wife, mother, artist, scientist, editor, administrator and inspirational leader. She co-authored three books, edited three others, and authored or co-authored 35 scientific papers and numerous popular articles, and produced over 2,000 colour and monochrome illustrations of the fishes of southern Africa and the Western Indian Ocean. Margaret also established a network of collaborating ichthyologists, which resulted in the Ichthyology Institute in Grahamstown becoming a mecca for researchers in the field. Her infectious enthusiasm for fishes also inspired a generation of artists, anglers, naturalists, aquarists, divers, students and, especially, children in South Africa and abroad.

  In the 1980s Margaret’s health, once so robust, started to fail her. A bad attack of arthritis resulted in her having one of her knee joints replaced. In 1985, while working on the next edition of the Sea Fishes book, she contracted pneumonia, septicaemia and bacterial meningitis, following which she was in a coma for several hours and was not expected to live. However, as Phil Heemstra recalls,

  ‘Her indomitable will and determination to finish the book pulled her through. She just refused to die. And even after she was confined to a wheelchair she continued to be an active presence, driving herself around in an automatic car, lifting herself painfully out of the chair’ (Weinberg, 1999).

  Shortly after the 1986 edition of Smiths’ Sea Fishes was completed she contracted leukaemia and was hospitalised in Port Elizabeth. When Hans Fricke and this author visited her in hospital in July 1987, we projected onto the wall facing her bed the first video footage of live coelacanths in their natural habitat in the Comoros taken by Hans and his Jago crew. She was absolutely enthralled and tears were streaming down her cheeks by the end of the screening. She told us that seeing the live fish had closed the circle of her life and that she was now ready to die and take the memory to JLB Smith. Despite suffering from depression and considerable pain, she told us that she suddenly felt animated and revitalised. Her grand-niece, Cathy Braans, later confided, ‘Her being able to watch a video of a coelacanth in her hospital bed, was for her an incredible privilege’ (Braans, pers. comm., 2016). She died six weeks later.

  Tesza Musto (pers. comm., 2017), who was a Research Assistant in the Ichthyology Institute in 1986 and 1987, has fond memories of her:

  ‘We were told that Prof Smith wanted to rent out half of her home in Oatlands Road. We jumped at the opportunity. … What an experience of a lifetime this would be. Imagine sharing a home with such a famous, wonderful, humble and mischievous woman. We lived a happy little family, Prof Smith, her sister Flora Sholto Douglas, their sheepdog Kelmar, our Siamese cat and Jack Russel puppy. From the time Prof came home from the hospital she was in a wheelchair. She was gentle and kind. Her sister, Flora used to tell very naughty jokes and she was the feisty one. From the day we got our Jack Russel, ‘Atemi’ … Prof was in love. The two of them were partners in crime. He constantly sat on her lap and was wheeled around everywhere with her.

  ‘At a certain stage Prof was given the bad news that she had leukaemia. We used to try and convince her to eat her vegetables but she became obstinate and said, ‘Why should I?’. Throughout her illness Prof was very positive and kept her sense of humour. … When Prof was bedridden with the Leukaemia, Jenny her daughter in law came to take care of her. Paul [Tesza’s husband], Jenny and I took turns to be with Prof. I used to rush home at lunchtime and after work to give Jenny a break and care for Prof. I used to get Prof books in the form of tapes [from the South African Library for the Blind]. This would keep Prof entertained. … It is incredible how it all worked out. Kelmar died first, then Flora (very suddenly) and then Prof. Prof was always worried about who would look after Flora if she passed away before Flora. In the days before [she] passed away Prof told me that she could see her brother in the room. The day Prof died I had rushed home at lunch time to relieve Jenny. While I was sitting with her I realised she was leaving us. I was torn between staying with her or calling Jenny. I felt Jenny should be with her as she was family. Jenny and I were privileged to be with Prof as she left us.’

  Margaret retained her wicked sense of humour to the end. Shortly before her death, after she had contracted leukaemia and put on weight, she joked with Ian Sholto-Douglas (Flora’s son), that she was concerned that they would not be able to find a coffin big enough. He responded by saying that they would have to use a round coffin, and she laughed uproariously, saying that they could ‘roll her away’! (I Sholt
o-Douglas, pers. comm., 2016).

  Margaret Smith died on a warm spring day on 8th September 1987, 17 days short of her 71st birthday, at her home at 37 Oatlands Road, Grahamstown. Ever the educator, on her death bed she explained to her young great-nephew, Angus Sholto-Douglas, what leukaemia is, and ‘even made leukaemia sound interesting’ (I Sholto-Douglas, pers. comm., 2016). A memorial service was held on 10th September 1987 in the Rhodes University Chapel with the Reverend Calvin Cooke presiding. Her memorial plaque can be found on the Remembrance Wall of the Trinity Presbyterian Church in Grahamstown.

  Shortly after her death, this author wrote,

  ‘We will remember her for her gritty determination, her kindness and generosity, her public-spiritedness and humility, and for the indelible mark which she has left on our community. Her life’s work, and that of her late husband, will be remembered through the Institute established in their name. A great scientific partnership has ended, but many will bear the fruits of their creative collaboration.’

  1According to Martin, Margaret was not a keen cook, although she prepared excellent pickled fish. In the Ichthos seafood cookbook, Fisherman’s Favourites, edited by Carolynn Bruton and Liz Tarr and launched in June 1992, to which many leading ichthyologists and fisheries scientists contributed their favourite seafood recipes, Margaret’s only contribution was a note on how to prepare sand shark for cooking. In contrast, Marjorie Courtenay-Latimer contributed Crayfish soufflé, Jean Pote Shark and Avocado Cocktail, Fish Bobotie and Bream Sauvière, Phil Heemstra his Silwood Snoek, the Jubbs their Fish Pudding à la Jubb. Allan Heydorn’s recipes were the simplest and the best: Perlemoen al la Seaweed and Perlemoen Potjie. This recipe book arose from a tradition in the then JLB Smith Institute of Ichthyology to host a ‘Traditional Fish Supper’ in September each year when the DIFS students presented seminars on their work.