Taw Ainslie, a 20-year-old man from the United Kingdom, died during a Quest Kaba hike in the Alexandria area of the Eastern Cape on Saturday, 7 February 2026. He was participating in an 18 km hike with 30 other Quest Kaba participants.
Approximately three and a half hours into the hike, and around 3 km from the end point, Taw became disorientated. Fellow participants assisted him and seated him to rest. While one participant remained with him, attempting to cool him with water and fanning, another went to obtain cellular signal to call for assistance.
The Quest support vehicle and guide arrived approximately 10 minutes after receiving the call, bringing additional water and supplies. At that stage Taw was barely conscious. He was placed in the support vehicle and transported towards Alexandria while his pulse and breathing were monitored. When no pulse or breathing could be detected, CPR was commenced and continued until paramedics took over at a rendezvous point in Alexandria.
Despite prolonged resuscitation efforts, Taw could not be revived and was pronounced deceased on arrival at Port Alfred Hospital.
A post-mortem examination was conducted on Monday 9th February. The findings indicated that heat was a contributing factor in his death, although it was not possible to determine whether any pre-existing medical conditions may also have played a role.
The owners and staff of Quest Kaba are devastated by this tragic event involving a participant on our program. We extend our deepest condolences to Taw’s family and loved ones during this extremely difficult time.
Jim Musto speech at the 2026 Core Graduation
We are here today to celebrate and honour the young men who have completed the Core Course. I would also like us to remember those who should be with us but, for various reasons, are not.
But, in particular, I want us to remember and honour Taw Ainslie, and to think of his family today. Most of you never knew Taw, so I hope that this brief tribute will bring some substance to his memory.
Before I met Sheila, we both knew a unique character called Alistair Wyrley Birch. Wyrley died when he was 22 years old, and yet what an amazing legacy he has left. As youngsters in the newly post-war Zimbabwe, we had so many adventures together, but it was not the adventures that made him unique and special; it was his incredible character, his zest for life, his love of people, all people, young and old, cool and least cool – he just brought the best out in everyone he was with; and it was the way he handled tough situations that inspired me as a young man with the idea that regardless of what happens, its your response that counts, that’s all that matters. In short, Harvey Leared, who started the Zim Quest, and Sheila and I were all inspired by Wyrley. We have coined the term “Wyrleyism” – having the qualities of Wyrley. Every year an exceptional young man will be voted by his peers as the Quest Core top student, and he is awarded the Alistair Wyrley Birch Trophy. The irony is that Wyrley was so completely lacking in ego, he would have thought this a ridiculous idea, and had a good giggle about it.
What does this have to do with Taw? When I arrived back at the house after collecting Taw at the airport, I said to Sheila something along the lines of “we have a Wyrley on our hands” – in other words we have someone who displays Wyrleysim – couragaeous, resilient, on the side of life, full of good humour, big hearted, up for any adventure and completely lacking in ego. What a rare person that is! Having met his father and read the eulogy written for Taw, we realized my judgement of Taw was spot on. He was an exceptionally fine and unique young man. The apple does not fall far from the tree. His father Alex is also of the same elk, and we hope to one day get to know Emma and Taw’s 2 sisters.
It was humbling, re-assuring and inspiring to witness the amazing courage and big heartedness of his father Alex, when he came out to meet us about a week after Taw’s death. He wanted to see the place where Taw had been and try to understand something about what had happened. He was gracious and appreciative of the forthright explanation and simply said ‘these things happen’. He alluded to his experience from a military perspective which no doubt made him aware that tragedies of this kind do happen.
Despite Alex’s generous attitude, we know the great pain that he and his family are living with. My burden of ultimate responsibility for Taw’s death is a weight that I will carry to the grave, but every time I think of it, usually in the small hours of the night, I remind myself that my burden is nothing compared to the grief visited upon his wonderful family.
Taw was drawn to Africa and had already spent some time in Kenya working on farms with horses, cattle and crops. By strange coincidence he had been based on the farm next door to where Sheila and I lived in the Rift Valley near Nakuru. We have many happy memories of good times had on that farm and were great friends with the owners, Tristan and Cindy Voorspuy, who turned out to be relatives of Taw. Their main business was horse safaris and Taw was most at home when dealing with horses, preferably with a pack of hounds on a fox hunt.
Taw was out of shape when he arrived at Quest, mainly because he had been sitting on a tractor for several months working as a farming contractor, and living a very unhealthy lifestyle, with long hours of work, eating fast food while on the road between jobs. He had been excited to come to Quest to get his body back in shape and reset his life before starting university this September. This was not to be. His plans and dreams were cut short. We feel the deep pain for the ‘’unlived’’ life that was taken from him…the adventures, possibilities and potentials that will never be experienced.
All of us have the life we have lived and will continue to live, but there is also the “unlived” life of what could have been and what still could be, if we were to make different choices, live for something more worthwhile, more permanent, more meaningful. What if the legacy of Taw in this place, is that he reminds us to live the life we should live, based on gratitude for the gift of life itself; the big life, the adventurous life, the meaningful life of purpose, the life lived for others, the life lived to develop and use our talents and our most noble desires to be a force for all that is good and true. The world needs us to live these lives…What if out of the ashes of this tragedy many souls were brought to life, the real authentic life they were supposed to live; what if we were inspired to live that “unlived” life, so that we can’t say looking back “what if I had done this?” or “I wish I had done that”, but rather we always ask, “what more can I still do, with the precious time that is given to me?”
Questors, as you leave this place, this is my prayer for you – that you may develop that vision for your authentic life and have the courage and integrity to live it. Remember “All men die, but not all men truly live” and so you must “Dare to Live and Dare to Lead”.
Thank you.
Excerpts from the Eulogy given by Alex Ainslie, Taw’s Father
Taw always kept us on our toes, he was never one to follow the well trodden path that parents aspire to for their children.
Like many parents, we thought our first born was an absolute genius and he could do no wrong, but as the early years went by it became clear that Taw was very competent at the practical side of life, he had buckets of common sense and ingenuity but academics was not for him.
He was adept, aged 3, at breaking out of our cottage at Moat Farm at the break of dawn, walking the 400m to granny Dodo's house, breaking into that, raiding the biscuit tin and making it back before anyone else was up. He was finally busted by Great Aunt NuNu and duly reported.
This carried on as he grew up and he progressed to Vinehall prep school where the academic standards went up and the written tests got harder. It soon became apparent when a test was due as Taw would climb into the car to go to school but slip out the other side before we had time to leave, and he'd be off onto the farm. The problem was that as we both got older he got faster and I got slower, and so the chase got harder. He really couldn't see the point of school when all he wanted to do was help on the farm with the dogs, horses and machines.
Taw had his own little possie made up of Willow and May. As the business and the farm grew their childhood was very much farm work rather than play dates and I don't think they would have had it any other way.
They were a great team, could be given virtually any job and they'd get it sorted. Although we did receive actual complaints that the children had gone a little feral and did we think they ought to wear clothing, which seemed, in their eyes, to be a bit of a faff. The farming lifestyle provided them with a mix between the Swallows and Amazons, Famous Five, My Family and Other Animals and Lord of the Flies. The 3 of them would disappear for hours, sometimes clothed, sometimes not, rarely with any footwear but usually Taw had his hunting knife, and go on adventures. He always knew that he was the big brother and took this responsibility very seriously; although the girls had other ideas.
They would generally return with some poor animal that they'd found, captured or birthed. We had a menagerie: lambs, ducks, wild kittens, Squiz the squirrel, Jackie the tame jackdaw, a hedgehog, and randomly a blue budgerigar that had landed on Taw's head when he was walking across a field, along with a herd of horses and a pack of dogs dutifully following them around to see what happens next.
One of the true joys as Taw's father was to see his fierce loyalty to any team he was part of. Whether on the rugby, cricket or hockey pitch, he quite simply thrived in a team set-up. He would turn up at the Heathfield rugby club, the coldest place in the UK, on an early Sunday morning, in his shorts and t-shirt and run, with his mates, through the mud and rain. In fact the muddier, colder and wetter the better for him. He just had a different setting when it came down to personal discomfort.
If we slightly gloss over his academic results, he thrived. He loved the rugby and the camaraderie in his beloved Hart House. He was introduced to fell running and turned out to be surprisingly good at it. The Wilson run is the school's premier annual fixture, a 10 mile cross country run up some very steep hills and through swollen rivers. It is a serious challenge and something that marks Sedbergh out from the crowd. The bands were out, bagpipes blaring, and Taw just found his pace and came home 3rd in his house, a surprise to all of us, but especially Taw.
Taw's love of hunting started at a very young age with his amazing pony, Quincey, that we still have aged 35. Taw and his beloved grandmother, DoDo, would head off most Saturdays chasing the hunt somewhere across East Sussex and then wouldn't return until hours after it was dark.
He had found his calling, very rare in a boy aged 19, and he was never happier than when he was in the saddle, at a flat out gallop with the hounds at his side. He loved the history, tradition, and high standards that the hunt and its staff were held to, and loved being part of that team. He was truly at home and happy.
When I think of Taw I think of the man who had a huge heart. Who, even at 20, would rugby tackle you in the kitchen and pin you to the ground, who would at any time of day or night start blowing his hunting horn and smile at the chaos it caused, the boy who was so eager to please and be part of a team, and the boy who was just so at home in the country following his own path rather than the slightly sterile route that many follow.
And so Taw, kick on with your hounds.