Cocky Rocky Takes a Dive

Rocky de Beer wasn’t a boxer, but he looked and acted like one.
Constantly shadowboxing, he always walked like he’d just knocked someone out. That’s how he got the name “Rocky” (no one but our employer knew his real name).

Truth is, Rocky was harmless. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but a decent bloke. Big chest, big ego, and just enough brainpower to perform one of the most critical jobs on our Bloukrans Bridge site: Rocky was the rigger in charge of the blondine crane.

Now, if you’ve never worked on a major bridge or dam construction site, let me tell you: riggers are a different breed. They do some pretty dangerous work, and they know it. So they often walk around like they own the place. And as for Rocky, he didn’t just walk, he strutted!

Rocky had something no one else had: the power to bring the entire construction site to a standstill whenever he wanted. All he had to do was declare that the blondine crane (the massive cable system that carried material across the gorge) needed a service.

And like a true machismo, he never wore a safety belt. “I don’t fall, brother”, he’d say.

On this particular day, Rocky got a proper safety lecture from the chief safety officer before he went up to the blondine carrier. The kind of lecture that ends with “Either you wear the harness, or you walk.” So, grudgingly, he strapped in.

Up he went to service the pulleys on top of the carrier, 280 metres above the bottom of the gorge. Below, the usual small crowd of onlookers had gathered, watching Rocky go through his routine.

But what he didn’t know was that the blondine cables had crossed at one section. And when he got to that spot, the carrier jolted to a sudden stop.
And Rocky? He flew straight off. Tools flying, helmet gone.

Lucky for Rocky, he was still there, dangling 2 metres below the carrier.
The harness caught him, and there he hung, dangling like a piece of biltong in your uncle’s garage.

We eventually winched him back to safety, and to be fair, Rocky didn’t say a word. White as a sheet, he just climbed down, walked to his bakkie, and drove straight home: at the very least, he needed a change of underwear.

Next day? He phoned the contracts manager and resigned. Poor Rocky had lost his swagger; he never came back.

That safety belt saved Rocky’s life. And that’s not just a story about construction sites or Rocky de Beer. It’s a wake-up call for every property owner out there.

Because here’s the truth: If someone gets injured on your property, and their company’s workers’ compensation isn’t up to date, you could be liable!

No jokes, so make sure your contractor’s paperwork is sorted, not just for your sake, but for the Rocky on the ladder.

Chat soon,
Frikkie.