Gertie's memories
My sea voyage on
RMS Pendennis Castle
and then to Central Africa.
We sailed from Southampton to Durban, in South Africa.
This voyage took place in the last century. Cranes lowered me
into the hold, where I spent sixteen days.The Royal Mail ships, that had carried passengers and mail for decades, were no longer economically viable. This was the penultimate journey for our ship. Consequently, there was an air of nostalgia above decks. Once we were through the Bay of Biscay, dolphins and porpoises played around the vessel.
There were parties, fancy dress competitions, and then the ceremony of crossing the line, as we entered the Southern Hemisphere. Creaking in the hold, I muttered, looking forward to the sunshine, to dry out my joints and hinges.
The 11 days to the Cape passed quickly. Everyone was up at dawn, for the first glimpse of Table Mountain. We were in port for two days. Cape Town is in a unique position, with the warm Indian Ocean on one side, and the cold Atlantic on the other. The city is beautiful, with fine sandy beaches, ancient oak forests and historic buildings. There is the ugliness of the shanty towns on the Cape Flats, which is little improved, today. The Cape also has weather, rather like England. It was late November when we arrived. The grey sea was whipped by the howling wind, throwing sand and debris around every corner. Central Africa is entirely different. There, one can enjoy "a climate", with guaranteed sunshine for 12 hours a day , with the exception of a day or two here and there, during the rains. My owner returned to Cape Town, in March, to find the air like wine, hot sand underfoot, and the nights like velvet. During that first visit, my livery was blue, but those days in the hold made me feel decidedly green.
We sailed around the coast, calling at Port Elizabeth
and East London, before docking in Durban.
I was then bundled on a train,
up-country, to Zimbabwe.
I thought this would be a most exciting time.
My British plates were removed. With a new Zimbabwe registration, 60-229Q.,
I was a novelty and admired, but the capital was small.
Tar roads soon
deteriorated and disappeared. My problems
began with the corrugations on the gravel and dirt roads. Whoever solves this problem will
become a multi-millionaire, so they say. My narrow wheels resonated with
these ruts in the dirt roads, resulting in an ongoing battle to keep me out
of the ditch.
There were few old English cars in Central Africa. I did have a good friend, a1950s Morris Traveller. She rattled along, sounding as if each journey would be her last. Old American cars were more suited to the environment, with bigger engines, larger tyres and fuel tanks to cope with the vast distances. Soon the family grew larger. Alice, the 1930 Model A Ford came to live with us, followed by Gerald Ford, a 1932 Model B. I was relegated to the car port, where I sulked, despite being stripped down and resprayed. I was yellow in the 1960s; dark blue, in the 1970s; dark green, in the 1980s before being resprayed yellow again in the 1990s. Gerald Ford was also relegated to the car-port. His wiring burnt out, on a rally to the Eastern Highlands. Alice is still going well. She's over 70. I was 65, in January 2002.
I was glad to come home to England again. In the years I've been away, the volume of traffic has increased. With my cable brakes & 6 volt headlamps, it is not easy for me to venture out, - but I am cherished. I'm glad to see over 1400 Web sites, with owners proudly displaying their Seven Babies. We Austin Sevens made motoring possible for thousands who could not otherwise have enjoyed the advantages. We were in the race to become the first £100 car. My owner paid £23 for me, in 1965. I believe she had to borrow £5!
1965-70 |
Gallery |
In Africa + 2002! |
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| The photograph of the train © Murray Alexander, is of an original painting by the late Keith Alexander of Johannesburg. |