Calm in the Chaos
A Quiet Goodbye from Herman van der Westhuizen
Above: Herman van der Westhuizen (photo: JC Photos)
When the masterful Piere Strydom bowed out after last Thursday’s meeting at the Vaal, he wasn’t the only one calling it a day. Quietly, and with less fanfare, long-time Starter Herman van der Westhuizen also announced his departure, having reached retirement age.
The contrast was bittersweet. ‘Striker’ had had enough and was ready to go. Herman wasn’t. In a brief but touching interview, he said he loved his job and wished he could have stayed on for many more years.
Adding to the sadness, Herman officiated his last meeting on his 65th birthday. “I expected to be able to work through my 65th year,” he said, “but about four months ago, the National Horseracing Authority (NHA) informed me that official regulatory requirements had to be followed. They were unable to extend my contract.”
Above: Piere and Herman (photo: JC Photos)
Fittingly, Herman had watched Strydom go through the starting gates at Highveld racecourses thousands of times in his time at the gates, which started in 1985. Reflecting on the retiring champion, he said: “Piere is the best jockey I’ve ever seen. I followed his progress since he was a youngster, and he always amazed me with his natural talent. Early in his career, he learnt to shift his weight just enough when needed, so his mounts could change legs. These were carefully timed moves. His horses could edge across, left or right, to intimidate rivals. Piere perfected the art. He did it so well, he very seldom got into trouble with the stipes. Other jockeys have tried to copy him. They still do. But they bump others, cause interference, and end up with suspensions.”
Herman has a treasure trove of tales from past and present, and battle scars to show from 50 years in an unforgiving industry. The man who grew up in the gritty surrounds of Boksburg-North also survived a broken back and emerged unscathed from a horrific car crash. In between, he worked as an extra on a Hollywood blockbuster!
Above: Herman as an apprentice jockey, Newmarket, 1975. (photo: supplied)
He joined the SA Jockeys Academy (SAJA) at age 15, alongside Danny Lombard, David Kuit, Alan Gordon, and Jeff Lloyd. Reflecting on those early days, he said: “I’d already ridden horses on a farm, so I was quite familiar with them. But I remember Jeff Lloyd and his dad, casually showing up at the Academy in socks and sandals. Jeff had never even touched a horse before. We all wondered, ‘What’s this strange little Englishman doing at jockey school?’ Well, the rest is history. He became a champion jockey in three countries.”
Herman’s own spell as a jockey produced a few hundred winners. He was apprenticed to Teddy Bowker and Boet Huckell at Newmarket and later picked up several top rides as a qualified professional, including George Tambourlas’ talented filly Grand National and IJ van der Merwe’s capable handicapper, Tandago.
But his riding career came to a premature end due to weight issues. “I tipped the scales at 58kg when the maximum riding weight was 57kg and the bottom end was 46kg, so getting rides became almost impossible. Wasting 5 or 6kg a week just wasn’t a healthy option.”
On a darkly ironic note, had Herman not retired in 1985, he would likely have been aboard the fateful flight from Bloemfontein that crashed into a mealie field near Hennenman in 1987—an accident that claimed the lives of 13 of his former colleagues, including his Academy friends Danny Lombard and Mark Nel. “Bloemfontein was my most successful hunting ground,” he recalled. “I rode for trainer George Scott and lived in his house for a few years, we had plenty of winners together.”
Herman said that he, too, sometimes flew back after race days at the Bloemfontein track, often in a small eight-seater aircraft carrying just a handful of jockeys and racing officials. One particular flight stood out.
“Halfway back,” he recalled, “heavyweight jock Willem Ferreira —another tough Boksburger— got into an argument with one of the stipes, whose name escapes me now. Things got heated. Willem grabbed the official, dragged him toward the exit door, and began to force it open. If senior jockey Joey Taylor hadn’t stepped in, something terrible could’ve happened.”
The late Ferreira, a crafty horseman who later turned trainer, once showed Herman a novel way to calm fractious horses that shake their heads aggressively during stalls practice. “Willem filled a plastic bag with water, placed it between the horse’s ears and shook it so it made a ‘glug, glug’ sound. The horses would prick their ears and listen, and most would settle down enough to be taught how to jump from the gates.”
Above: John Yeoman, master starter. (photo: supplied)
Difficult horses are a starter’s nightmare, but Herman learned from men he regards as the best in the business—John Yeoman, Roy May, and Sos Uys. He joined Mr Yeoman’s team as a handler in 1985 and recalls: “When Mr Yeoman said a horse was intractable and withdrew its certificate, that was it. He was the boss. There were no ‘ifs’ or ‘buts’. Trainers didn’t argue. That has changed. The element of respect is not what it used to be.”
One of the first things Herman was taught, was how to stop a troublesome horse who’d broken through the gates. “When you’re in the stall with a horse like that and he crashes the gates, you hang over his shoulder and go with him. They normally stop.”
He had his first taste of this kind of chaos when the big, champion sprinter Divine Act played up before the start of the First Corp Sprint at Turffontein in 1990. “The horse, jockey Tobie van Booma and I barged through the pens. I hung on for dear life until he stopped. We took him back, he started well and won the race.”
A similar incident occurred during Herman’s three-year stint as a work rider and handler in Hong Kong, from 2000 to 2003. “I was helping a grey horse called Precision into the gates at Sha Tin, during the Hong Kong International meeting. There were 86,000 fans in the stands. It was a stayers’ race, starting right in front of the grandstand, and he was loaded last. Suddenly, Precision forced his way through the front of the gate with a loud crash and jumped away. Jockey Douglas Whyte stayed on and so did I, hanging on his neck. We stopped him, and the whole crowd cheered. It was an unforgettable adrenaline rush. Precision reloaded calmly and finished fourth.”
In Hong Kong, Herman rode track work alongside top international jockeys like Frankie Dettori and Olivier Doleuze. “In my time, I rode with some of South Africa’s best, including Martin Schoeman, Gerald Turner, Michael Cave, Roy Curling and James Maree. But to match strides on horseback with Dettori and company, even if it wasn’t in a race, was priceless. They taught me things like how to ride with a long rein, and just being around them was incredible.”
Above: Herman on the set of ‘Racing Stripes’. (photo: supplied)
Back in South Africa, Herman was hired as a stunt rider for the 2005 movie Racing Stripes, a quirky tale about a lightning-fast zebra who races against thoroughbreds. The film, which starred big names like Dustin Hoffman and Bruce Greenwood, was partly shot at Hollywoodbets Scottsville. “That was quite an amazing experience and they paid us really well. There were other South African riders involved too, like the Agrella brothers—Wayne and Rocky—and we had a few weeks of great fun. I even spotted myself briefly in two action shots.”
Herman joined Charles Laird as a work rider, in a period when Charles often booked renowned equine behaviour therapist, Malan du Toit, to handle his unmanageable runners. “I picked up plenty of tricks from Malan. I watched him closely, helped where I could, and learned a lot. Malan also came to the starting gates when he accompanied horses he’d worked with.
“I started employing the skills I’d acquired and over the years I’ve had success on my own. Just a few weeks ago Tony Peter asked me to help with his filly VJ’s Angel, whose run in the Gold Bracelet on Gold Cup Day was in jeopardy due to her ongoing problems at the start. I spent three hours with her on a halter at Turffontein. She calmed down, walked through the pens like a lamb and went on to run a big race, third to Rainbow Lorikeet.”
Herman suffered a serious fall while riding work at the Laird stable, fracturing two vertebrae and breaking his back. “I was in a wheelchair. They were worried I might not walk again, and the pain was unbearable. But then we found a doctor who performed a vertebroplasty. He injected cement into the cracked spinal bones, and within three days, I got up and walked out of the hospital.”
He had what can only be described as another stroke of luck when he survived a horrific car crash years later. “I was driving a small Mazda when a bus ran me off the road near 14th Avenue in Roodepoort. My car somersaulted, and because I wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, I flew head-first through the windscreen. But I landed on the embankment just outside the car’s tumbling path and survived. The car was written off, completely wrecked. There were bystanders searching the area for the driver. I walked up to them with blood pouring down my face and said, ‘Here I am.’”
Despite the tough exterior and near-mythical brushes with death, Herman is a calm and thoughtful character at heart, and still very much invested in the sport and those who worked alongside him. He said: “My fellow-starter Gareth Tim remains in charge. He is a top man, assisted by Albert Lesedi, Ben Nkosi, and handlers like Frances Simela and Doubt Mazule, former leading work riders and good horsemen. Ben is a man with an unbelievable memory. He knows every troublesome horse by name when it arrives at the start.”
Is there just one thing that could improve procedures at the start?
Herman didn’t hesitate: “Yes, there is. I believe today’s apprentices are being trained on horses that are too calm, too easy. They walk quietly in circles around the paddocks, and you have to push them hard just to get them to break into a canter.
“Back in the day, the old-school jockeys trained on horses that were tough to handle. They’d buck wildly, or take off and you had to stop them yourself, come what may. And that’s the point: when you learn on difficult horses, you’re far better at the start.
“I think of retired jockeys like Gunther Wrogemann, Sherman Brown, and the under-rated Fanie Chambers. They almost never had issues at the start. Even on tricky mounts, they’d wink at the starting team and say, ‘Don’t worry about this one, we’re in.’ Then they’d give a little click-click, a nudge with their legs, and the horse would walk in.
“Today’s youngsters don’t have that kind of grounding. Some of them arrive uncertain, even scared, and their nerves rub off on the horses. A jittery jockey on a frisky horse delays the start and puts more pressure on the starter, who’s already juggling the entry sequence, hooded runners, early jumpers and the need for a clean, fair break.”
Members of the Highveld starting team knew exactly what a “Herman Start” meant — a smooth, orderly process, capped by his firm final call: “The Back Gates Are Closed!”, followed by a raised flag, and the button pressed. They’ll carry on, wrestling hard horses, sweating and muttering under their breath in one of the most dangerous corners of the racing game. But it will be just a little harder now. They’ll miss the steadiness, the voice of calm, and the quiet authority behind every Herman Start.
Above: Herman and members of the Highveld starting team. (photo: supplied)