Our English adventure 1
We set sail from Cape Town to Southampton on the good ship Cape Town Castle some time in 1964. At the age of 8, dates meant nothing to me and I have no idea whether it was winter or summer, although on reflection and looking at an old photo, I think it was autumn with a late southeaster and a hint of a tablecloth swirling down Table Mountain. Father was to attend a two-year course with the Royal Navy and we were accompanying him almost lock, stock and barrel, except that furnished accommodation for the duration would be provided, and we needed only our personal effects. Being the youngest, and only 8, my input was not required, and Mother made all the decisions about what would be left in roof space storage at home and what would be taken with us. You may think that this would be a simple thing, but packing for five and not knowing quite what lay ahead meant space was at a premium, and it was only when we were under steam in the South Atlantic that I discovered the only essential item I required had been left behind – my floppy doll. I think that was a turning point for me – my first lesson in how to live without something so dear to my heart and my constant companion. I can’t say whether there were tantrums or just stoical acceptance (I suspect the latter), but it was a source of great amusement to remind her often over the years about the childhood trauma I had endured! On our return to Cape Town, we found that lying unloved in a box had done the doll’s hair no good and my affection for her waned from that moment. By then I had a Barbie – 1965 model – and had moved on to more exciting playtimes.
My memories of long ago were jogged by a painting of the Cape Town Castle leaving her berth at around the time we travelled on her and I remembered the smell of the corridors – uncarpeted, with metal walls – although no longer able to describe it. Everything was painted a darkish cream, and only the public areas were carpeted. The cabins were just that – a small space with a porthole that was kept locked to prevent waves washing in during stormy seas, bunk beds, no bathroom. Just a place to sleep, as the thrill of being on a passenger ship lay on the other side of the cabin door, an adventure a minute! Travelling as representatives of the SA Navy, we were in the happy position of being in First Class, and even better, the only three children to do so. This meant that we had the undivided attention of the Children’s Stewardess, who ensured that our parents enjoyed a stress-free voyage without having to wonder whether we were climbing on the ship’s railings or exploring the bilges. The most marvellous nursery equipped with every conceivable toy and play equipment including a never-to-be-forgotten rocking horse was our home for a large part of the trip. Meals were taken in the dining room before the adults’ sitting – an arrangement which would, I am sure, prove very popular today – and it was quite an experience to be attended by our very own stewards. Living the high life, indeed!
Of course, it was parents’ choice as to whether children would stay with the Children’s Stewardess and we were often on deck playing deck quoits and other long forgotten games that helped pass the time on the sea voyages – it took 12 days to sail from Cape Town to Southampton. There was a gym where we could exercise under supervision, and a library where we could sit quietly occasionally. But I do remember the slot machine, the first time we had come across gambling (not allowed back home under Nationalist rule, can you imagine!) I waited while a lady fed many, many silver coins into the machine, and when she eventually ran out of coins, I stepped up for my turn. One coin, jackpot! She was furious and told everybody that the money should have been hers. Mother was thrilled that I won it! I am sure I must have headed straight for the ship’s shop to spend my windfall.
