After remaining a few weeks in King Williamstown we had a longing to see
the ocean, and accordingly, one evening, took the train for East London,
two hours distant by rail, and fell asleep that night to the sound of
the waves rolling up on the shore. The next day we went down the steep
hill-side to the beach, and played with the pebbles and pretty
sea-shells, as happily as children with their wooden spades and pails.
When the tide is out the rocks are strewn with wrecks, one of which we
climbed upon, and let the spray of the waves dash upon us.
East London is rather a misnomer, for by that term people mean Panmure,
which is built on the opposite bank of the Buffalo to the old town of
East London; but Panmure, having grown up and eclipsed its elder
brother, the old name seems to cling to it, and East London, the larger
and more important town of the two, is indicated. It is very
picturesquely situated. The Buffalo River finds its way to the sea at
this point, between excessively high and bountifully wooded banks. East
London proper is erected on the western point of the junction of the
river with the ocean, while Panmure looks down upon it from the higher
elevation of the eastern bank.
The town is rather scattered, but rejoices in some of the most energetic
and pushing colonists in the country. They are trying hard to bring
their town into the front rank of colonial towns, and are spending vast
sums of money in the attempt to make a harbour of the mouth of the
river, at present barred with sand. A breakwater was in course of
erection by convict labour, which is confidently expected to do great
things for the port, but so far there is no communication between the
shipping and the shore but by means of lighters and steam launches.
There are three or four highly prosperous rowing clubs in Panmure, and
our hotel proprietor, being a member of one, we were enabled to spend
several delightful days in exploring the romantic banks and creeks of
the Buffalo, which here resembles our own Hudson in picturesque
loveliness. We remained three very pleasant weeks in East London
enjoying the sea, and, after debating the question, we decided to go to
Natal.
Our thoughts had been turned toward that colony for some time, as we had
heard much of the beauty of the country. It is necessary to make the
voyage by sea, for, although Natal touches the Cape Colony along the
boundary line of one hundred and fifty miles or more, there is little or
no regular land communication, the Cape districts adjacent to Natal
being still peopled by natives as yet but little removed from barbarism.
There is no highway from one colony to the other, and communication is
almost entirely by sea.
The port of East London bears the unenviable distinction of being for
more than half the days in the year almost unapproachable. The
roadstead is quite open, there being no bay of any kind, and the coast
facing southeast, it is exposed to the full fury of the worst gales
known in these latitudes, the _South-easters_. On a hot summer's day we
boarded the tender which was to take us only to the steamer. We were
warned by the residents that it was rough outside the "bar," but we
could scarcely believe them as we looked out on the placid waters of the
estuary. We were soon convinced, however, for as soon as the little
steamboat began to feel the swell which at all times surges over the
sandy bar, she tossed and danced about in a manner which made us wish we
had not started for Natal.
But we were in for it now, so covering ourselves completely with our
rubber coats we did not fear the spray and surf that dashed completely
over our little vessel as she blustered and fought her way, inch by
inch, against the mighty rollers that seemed to rear up to drive us
back. After several minutes of this we cleared the bubbling surf that
boiled over the bar, and found ourselves in the long rolling swell of a
heavy sea, which, if as dangerous, was not quite so unpleasant. We
arrived alongside the steamer, which appeared to us, on our erratic
little craft, to be as steady as a rock, so large and stately did she
seem. We were told we should have to be hoisted on board in a basket,
as there was no possibility of our approaching near enough to the
vessel's side to get up by the usual companion ladder.
A huge basket was slung down, suspended from the immense derrick on the
ship's deck, and into this we were unceremoniously packed, two at a
time. Then we were quickly hauled up, our dignity suffering in the way
we were "dumped" down on the deck like jugs of molasses, or Falstaff
going to the wash. We smoothed our ruffled plumage with the consolation
that we were "doing" South Africa, though it seemed to us at the time
that the reverse was the case.
It was too dark when we left East London to see anything of the coast,
but on coming on deck the next morning we found the scenery before our
eyes. The coast from west to north-east is very little broken, and
presents a uniform rocky shore, but the scenery is really beautiful.
Hundreds of small streams, and one or two larger ones, empty themselves
into the sea on the Kafrarian coast, and the kloofs through which they
find their way to the ocean are veritable fairy glens in loveliness.
The steamer here kept close to the shore, so everything was seen with
distinctness.
The wonderful clearness of the atmosphere made every bold wrinkle on the
face of the cliffs, the direction of the water courses, every curve of
the kloof to be clearly discovered. One feature of the country with
which we had become familiar was here conspicuous by its absence. No
mountains of great altitude could be seen, the great ranges which run
right round the coast line with one unbroken wall here receding so far
from the sea as to be beyond the reach of our vision even in that rich
and brilliant light. We passed Mazeppa Bay, the scene of so many wrecks
that it has become famous, the great Kei River and many points of
historical interest.
The captain told us that this entire coast was for a long time laid down
on the charts nearly a degree too far west, which was, no doubt, the
cause of the numerous marine disasters that have occurred among its
breakers. Next day we sighted the mouth of the Saint John's River, of
which place hopes are entertained that it will one day be made a
practicable harbour. There is a small settlement here, and a station
for the mounted police. From here we began to see many charming houses
dotted along the shores.
The beauty of the country has tempted a great number of Europeans to
pitch their tents here. Major-General Bissett, who has written several
interesting histories of the Kafir wars, has built himself a house not
far from Saint John's, which, with the surrounding estate, has every
appearance of being a delightful spot to retire to from the busy world.
It was a Christmas day, 1497, that the great Portuguese voyager, Vasco
da Gama, first sighted the headlands and bluffs of Natal, and it was on
Christmas day nearly four hundred years after (it is strange how history
repeats itself) that we Yankee girls landed in Durban!