It had been exactly thirty years since the previous disastrous flood in which South End bore the brunt of the storm. This time it was midday on a Wednesday when the skies opened. By the time that the cloudburst subsided only an hour and a half later, it had deposited approximately 127mm on the town with the usual water courses bearing the brunt while copious quantities of rubble took their revenge by being deposited on Main and Strand Street. Damage was also caused in North End as well as South End.
Yet again a weather phenomenon known as a cut-off low was the ostensible culprit which had done its best or should that read worst.
Main picture: Pier Street in 1897
Prologue to a storm
Prior to this cloudburst, rain had been desperately required. For some weeks already people had been crying out for some relief from the terrible drought which threatened to place them in one of the worst possible plights — an absolute lack of water. Watching in despair as crops wilted was the lesser of two perils. Watching and waiting as livestock inexorably succumbed to thirst was soul destroying. It was better to slaughter them instead of prolonging their suffering. Those of a religious proclivity would kneel and pray to their God for redemption for surely it was their sinful lives which had brought the curse on.
On Monday, a pleasing rain fell, and there was much rejoicing. Many thanked their God in silent prayer. The emaciated rain continued all the next day, Tuesday 4th May 1897 and by the evening ominous storm clouds approached the town and became blacker and blacker and more foreboding as they reached the Bay. Rain fell steadily throughout the night and the majority of the residents felt quite satisfied that all danger of a water famine was at an end. Towards noon on the following day, Wednesday, clouds darker than ever came over the scene and a horrendous deluge followed, and from that time until two o’clock, an almost uninterrupted sheet of water fell. Everyone was stormbound, places of refuge were sought and occupied throughout the flood, whilst the rain fell in torrents, registering about eighty-nine millimetres in half an hour. The oldest inhabitants at the time declared that it was much more severe than the storm in 1867.
Consequences
Redgrave recorded the destruction as follows: The damage was enormous; streets on the Hill were washed out in some parts to bedrock, leaving tremendous chasms, and stones, bricks, and soil in enormous quantities came down with a rush to the Main Street and on through the thoroughfares down to the beach. All traffic was brought to a complete standstill and the North End of the town was marooned when four lines of the railway opposite the Gas Works were swept away by the force of the water, carrying with them several trucks which had toppled over, whilst two other places further up the line suffered similar damage. The incoming mail train could not reach the North End station and all mails and passengers were landed near the main road, the latter having to seek shelter in neighbouring houses as there were no conveyances to take them into town.
Work in the port was entirely suspended, for the sea was even more tempestuous than in some of the worst south-easterly gales that have driven vessels ashore. Mountainous waves pounded the shore and crowds watched the rolling of the vessels in the roadstead and witnessed the frequent miraculous escapes of lighters and smaller craft. And as if to accentuate the awfulness of the storm, the Gas Works were flooded and a warning was promptly issued that all the streets and houses would be plunged in darkness throughout the night. It was in the area of the Gas Works that the force of the flood appeared at its worst. The waters rushed down in this direction and carried away railway lines and trucks, whilst a portion of the steep St. Patrick’s Road having collapsed, many tons of debris found their way into the houses on the main level road, wrecking all opposing walls and injuring many people.
Losses recorded
There was, however, no loss of life on this occasion, although rumours flew around in the afternoon that two children had been drowned at the North End, but they were promptly contradicted. In fact, no cases were bad enough even to be brought into Hospital, but a number of horses were drowned and there was generally a severe loss of oxen, sheep, fowls, and dogs. The streets became veritable seas and pedestrians took great risks when they endeavoured to wade through the rushing waters that contained much heavy material. Many heroic deeds were enacted, and many lives were saved, and the police proved to be better men than their worst opponents were apt to describe them. All throughout the day they were seen performing acts which gave great relief to distressed and marooned persons, and by sticking pluckily to the posts assigned to them, they greatly assisted in the excellent plan of organization put into operation by their chiefs. Inspector Williams and Sub-Inspector Wynne. The scene during the awful downpour was almost indescribable, and to add to the terror of it all, the lightning flashed, and the thunder rolled.
Hilarious scenes at Phoenix Hotel
The diners in the Phoenix Hotel in Market Square would not relent and not demand to be served as if the hotel was not being flooded. Redgrave recorded this scene of pandemonium as follows: The rush of water from the Market Square found its way into the Phoenix Hotel, the result being that the dining-room and bar were flooded to a depth of several inches. The guests at lunch suddenly found themselves inundated and took their meal with their feet up on chairs, and the waiters splashed about over their ankles in water, conveying soup and other dishes to the beleaguered diners.
Damages, damages everywhere
The wool stores in Baaken’s Street and South Union Street suffered considerable damage, and the Baaken’s River itself changed from a sluit to a rushing torrent that roared down to the sea with tremendous force. The dam outside Mr. Newton’s boatbuilding yard was broken away and a large quantity of the north shore was carried down, the course of the river being completely changed. The bank on the north side, which was Municipal ground and was used as a depositing site for the materials of the Tramway Company and also contained several wood and iron stables, was washed away to a depth of several feet. The collapse of the bank took several of the buildings with it, and the Tramway Co. lost a great quantity of iron, pole rings, and stone, but the Tramway generating station escaped without any damage beyond the flooding of the adjoining tramcar shed.
The force of the water destroyed the foundation of one of the sets of iron pillars that supported the railway bridge, the consequence being that the pillars sank to the depth of several feet, being thus completely severed from the bridge, which was left unsafe for traffic. The railway lines in the Harbour depositing site were heaped up with sand and debris which later took a large body of natives to clear away. The pathway leading from the bridge round the south wall sank, the tar paving crumbling into a mass and falling into large holes, making the road impassable. Several wooden buildings used as offices alongside the path also sank on one side and were left several feet out of plumb. Pier Street and Walmer Road were converted into a rushing torrent and the water was several feet deep as it flowed down South Union Street, flooding most of the shops and depositing almost a foot of road surface on the pathway. That portion of South Union Street which lay between Walmer Road and the bridge was impassable for traffic and foot passengers had great difficulty in making headway along it. In Upper Pier Street nearly every house was flooded, those built by Mr. Jerry of course suffering most. Walmer Road was completely washed out. Piles of wooden blocks stacked up for laying the tramway track went floating down the road and made a dam at the bottom to which were added large stones and much debris.
Military Road was torn up for half its length, several feet of water covering the road and swamping the wool market. Mr. Newnes’ store on the riverbank was demolished, ground and all, and the whole lot, with bales of mohair, went to the sea. The sweet and jam factory of Messrs. Anderson was completely washed out when the stream swept right through their premises and having broken down the fence, joined the river. Many bundles of hides on the banks of the river also took their course per Baaken’s River and started home without a bill of lading. The quarry line and the ballast lines leading on to the reclamation works were undermined every few yards. The Happy Valley bridge (near the old quarry at the Humansdorp railway crossing) completely disappeared, leaving the lines to support themselves in mid-air, and beyond that point the Humewood railway was washed away every few yards. At the Humewood slipway the capstan used for hauling boats on to the slipway, concrete bed and all, in the bottom of a deep hole.
The walls around St. Mary’s cemetery collapsed, and a house in the valley had the roof taken clean off and the gable succumbed. The Target Kloof Road was washed away for some distance at the culvert to a depth of about ten feet and was impassable. The Shark’s River supply of water had been completely washed away and Mr. MacMillan telegraphed to say that the main pipes in the gorge leading from Van Staden’s Dam had been cracked through a fall of rock, hence no water could be expected in the town except from the Vlei on the Hill. But the Van Staden’s Reservoir was almost full, being some four feet below the sill of the Dam.
The people who suffered most from the effects of the flood were those residing in the North End of the town and some of the dwellings were as much as six feet under water. At an early meeting of the Council, the Mayor suggested that a relief fund be opened for the distressed people and the Municipality headed the subscription list with a donation of one hundred guineas.
Sources
Port Elizabeth in Bygone Days by J.J. Redgrave (1947, Rustica Press)