So... what's changed in Simon's Town?!

Less than you might think in this former British enclave! Certainly, the vessels in Simon's Town's dockyard are now state-of-the-art corvettes and subs rather than sailing ships, but a quick glance at the two views of St George's street 100 years apart reveals that many of the original Victorian-era buildings are still there, and now carefully restored: The British Hotel, The Lord Nelson Inn, Sartorial House... Even Admiralty House, clearly visible in the lovely painting by Christopher Webb Smith in the 1830s, and where British Admirals were based as head of the Royal Navy's South Atlantic fleet until the mid 1950s, is still in use by the South African Navy. I have attended concerts by the SA Navy Band in its sweeping gardens.

In my research for The Girl from Simon's Bay, I read reports from successive Admirals detailing the staffing of the dockyard, the training requirements for local recruits, the maintenance budget, and the plans for expansion. The Commanders of the Royal Naval Hospital, likewise, sent back reports about the nature of their patients' ailments e.g. from ulcers and broken limbs to contusions from shell splinters and the effects of ingesting oil when ships went down during the war. They had to justify their staffing numbers and, in one case, make an urgent plea for funds to secure the hospital's boundary from unauthorised (!) access. Vagrants? Thieves? Inquisitive baboons? He didn't say.

British involvement in Simon's Town and its dockyard ended in the mid 1950s, under the terms of the Simon's Town Agreement whereby the town and dockyard were handed over from Britain to South Africa. Since then, the town - and the dockyard - have expanded to meet the needs of a modern fleet and community. But the rich naval history, going back for a century-and-a half, is still visible if you look carefully... and was invaluable to me as I recreated a wartime setting for my novel.

When I was older, Pa explained that the navy boats were warships and their job was to defend the choppy sea route around Africa from what he ominously called 'foreign powers'. Whatever the weather, the warships managed to stay upright. They didn't flounder or sink, like fishing boats did. Instead they cut through the waves with dash, immune as arrows. And, as an afterthought, left behind a wake of filmy bubbles far more ordered than those tossed over me from the waves at Seaforth Beach...