4. Arriving in Cape Town, May 1957

This is story #4 in the series “Where Exactly is Home?”. The author recommends you read them in order.

Introduction:

“Where Exactly is Home?” follows the story of my parents, my two younger brothers and me, Susan, who emigrated from war-battered Britain, in the mid-late 1950’s, to Southern Rhodesia, Africa.

The effects of this move on our family were huge, as we struggled to adapt to such a different way of life. Only after further upheaval, and more long-distance travelling, did our family eventually settle in the city of Salisbury, Rhodesia.

However, we did not know then that we would not remain there for the rest of our lives, either.

When the family first went to Africa, I, Susan, was 9 years old. My two brothers, John and Peter, were almost 7 and 4, respectively.

Nowadays, as seniors, John and Peter live in England. I live in Canada. Throughout our lives, we have both benefitted from, and suffered because of, our somewhat unusual childhood.

I, for one, still sometimes ask myself which country represents home to me.

This is a series of stories under the title “Where Exactly is Home?” – I recommend you read them in order, starting with story #1.

4. Arriving in Cape Town, May 1957

After a week or so of not seeing any land, although our ship had stopped, and we had disembarked at the Ascension Isles and St. Helena, where we had visited Napoleon’s prison, and where my brother, John, and I had had a ride on the back of a giant tortoise (which ride, in my case, took some persuasion on the part of my mother, since I didn’t like the look of this huge creature one bit), my brothers and I were excited to see on the horizon, against the blue skies, Table Mountain. We stood, at the ship’s rails, in awe, watching seagulls flying high above us, and then gazing across the waves at the flat top of the mountain. With its white clouds draped along the top, falling gracefully down the side like a table cloth, the mountain deserved its name. What a sight! We were approaching our destination: Cape Town, South Africa. We weren’t the only ones, either, since, alongside our boat, several dolphins were accompanying us, leaping and curving above the waves, before sliding gracefully down into the waters again. We had seen them earlier on our trip and knew that they loved to swim alongside vessels. I felt as if they were saying hello to us, playing in the waves, and escorting us, as best they could, into the port.

My brothers and I were doubly excited, because every moment that our ship drew nearer to shore, brought us closer to the moment when we would see our father for the first time in five months. My mother must have been excited, too, but she was probably also concerned about the logistics of packing up, and getting us, three children, through the disembarkation process. She realized that she would have to break the news to my father, as well as to Great Aunt Jane’s daughter and son-in-law, that Jane had died en route. We already knew that all messages from the ship, to the police, to radio stations, and the like, had failed to reach Iona and David, who were due to collect Jane from the boat, not knowing what had happened during the trip. It was going to be such a huge shock to them.

Table Top Mountain, Cape Town, South Africa