Port Elizabeth of Yore: Replenishment of a Ship’s Water

Whenever a ship can moor at a jetty or a quay using mooring lines, the process of replenishing a ship’s water is simplified. All that is required are for water pipes to be laid along the wharf.  Difficulties abound whenever there is a lack of such facilities, but these hassles are always mitigated or overcome whenever entrepreneurs abound.

This blog deals with these entrepreneurs and their solutions.   

Main picture: Port Elizabeth From South End, painted by Baines in 1853, [Transnet Heritage Library N58606]

The French sailing ship: Le Necessaire
Historically, French naval vessels, like other sailing ships, primarily carried water in wooden barrels (also called casks, butts, or hogsheads) stored in the ship’s hold. 

During extended voyage’s especially when sailing in enemy controlled waters, the collection of water from the shore was frowned upon as being too dangerous. Instead the sailors would rely upon rain squalls for water collection. In this case sailors would spread out sails to funnel rainwater into buckets and then decant it into casks. Even though the water could pick up a “unique” flavour from the oiled canvas, beggars could not be choosers.

Above: The hamlet of Port Elizabeth painted by Piers in 1850 [NM Metropolitan Art Museum]

The saga of the Le Necessaire highlights the consequences of obtaining water ashore especially when in enemy territory. During February 1752 the French sloop, the Le Necessaire together with two other vessels departed from the French Island of Mauritius with the objective of examining the southeast coast of southern Africa. They would have been aware of a Dutch settlement at Cape Town but were unsure of whether the Dutch were claiming or operating from any other portion of this vacant land.

It is presumed that the French squadron sailed steadily southward checking for human activities. With none visible, and being short of water, the French concluded that it was safe to land small boats to collect water. The location selected was the feeble stream called Shark River, now Happy Valley. In the process, the boat overturned in the surf, disgorging its nine occupants.  In the meanwhile, a storm had steadily arisen overturning the small boat in the surf and forcing the Le Necessaire to withdraw to deeper water in order to prevent it from being driven onto the rocks on the shore further south.

Fully expecting their mother ship to return once the storm had abated, these French seamen were probably initially unperturbed by the withdrawal of their “home”, the  Le Necessaire. The first hints of probable abandonment were possibly raised sotto voce the following day. With the full retreat of the stormy weather, which was  presumably replaced by a vivid blue sky, expectations of their imminent rescue ran high. No record of what actually happened has survived but one can presume that those less sanguine silently explored their surroundings for food. In all likelihood, fish trapped in the blind Shark River were all that could be found.

Initially the expectations of being rescued would have high but after several more days of clear weather, the mood of the men would have would switched from expectant becoming morose and demoralised as the full impact of their abandonment by the Le Necessaire became abundantly clear. Comprehending the gravity of their situation, they would have set off to the closest town, Cape Town, 800 kilometres away. In reality they only would have had to survive the 398kms to Mossel Bay as in 1792 this was the eastern border of the Cape colony. The only objects that they bore were a musket and two pistols and possibly some water caskets. Apart from their practical use to carry water, these casks could be used in a barter transaction with the indigenous Khoikhoi or Hottentots as  they were locally known.

No record survives of these nine men’s travails, but it is safe to assume that they would have begged, borrowed and stolen supplies off the local khoikhoi en route to survive. In reality they would only have to survive the 368kms to Mossel Bay as in 1792  this was the eastern border of the Cape Colony. Nonetheless it was still a formidable target.  

John Barrow’s observation
During 1797 John Barrow noted how ships in that era ships replenished their water supplies in the Bay. As there were no jetties at that stage, Barrow noted that “copious amounts of fresh water were to be obtained from a spring which lay close to the landing place just below a hill overlooking the mouth of a small river. Sailors floated the barrrels in and out of the surf.” This rivulet was presumably the Baakens River. Further Barrow noted that “This was a hazardous business even at the best of times.

The first piped water supply
On page 98 of his thesis on the development of the harbour in Port Elizabeth, Jon Inggs includes this comment regarding Fortuin: “The only other improvement to port facilities during this period [1820s] was the provision of water to ships by a Malay, Fortuin Weys. He erected a pump and laid pipes from it to the landing beach.

Algoa Bay during north wester in 1909

Harradine describes the first enterprise of this kind by Fortuin Weys 1829 as “a pump to pipe water to the sea’s edge from a well in Market Square.”

By 1834 Weys was described by Thomas Pringle as “one of the wealthiest and most respectable inhabitants of the place’.  He had originally been granted land at Algoa Bay in March 1820. By the time the settlers landed, his house, still under construction, was the second substantial one to be built at what was soon to become Port Elizabeth. He was listed as a blacksmith by Griffin Hawkins in 1822. In time he acquired a number of properties in the town and further afield”.

Later piped water scheme
In his thesis Jon Inggs notes that the next development in the water supply business, was the “formation of the Algoa Bay Mooring and Watering Company in September 1850.” According to Harradine it was only during April of the following year that the Company commenced operations. The reason for this delay was because it experienced “an impure water problem.” To rectify it, rights were secured to a supply of water from south of the Baakens River. A large tank was built over the springs on the south side of the Baakens River and piping carried the water beyond the surf to a water boat from which ships could be supplied.

Twelve tons of water could be loaded into their waterboat in 30 minutes. This in turn could be pumped into a ship in 40 minutes. The service “did away with necessity of loading casks.”. In October 1851, the Company was able to provide H..M.S. Rhadamanthus with 27 tons of water. Based upon this performance, local commentators reckoned that the provision of water would become the port’s first permanent facility.

The hulk of an old wrecked ship stripped of its fittings and permanently moored, was utilised as storage space for items to be used by ships in trouble. In this case, the hulk housed a supply of cables and anchors. In the case of the gale over the 15th and 16th October 1850, the hulk had the necessary equipment but no requests were made for its use resulting in the loss of three shipsviz the Doris, the John Witt and the Mary Ann.

Vandalisation
The successful inception of operations created a positive vibe throughout the town. Speculation abounded regarding what other services would shortly be offered. Instead of elation there was dejection. Malicious irresponsible actions by vandals had popped the bubble. During the night they had turned on the watercock and drained the whole tank . On the subsequent night they had Besmeared the whole boat”

The company soon abandoned its mooring business. During November 1851 the hulk and its fittings was offered for sale. For these and other reasons, the company experienced a faltering start, finally being wound up in 1857

. In December 1857 a stone tank was built over the spring and the old wooden tank was removed.

By November the Company’s waterworks had been inspected and certified by the Government Engineer, George Pilkington, who was favourably impressed. An iron pipeline ran out beyond the surfline from the reservoir south of the Baakens.

Era of the jetties
The construction of the North Jetty did not relieve the situation as moorings were restricted to small vessels. Larger ships had to be serviced while at the roadstead with lighters ferrying goods between  South Jetty and the vessel at anchor.  

Water storage and quality
Onboard Storage: Large quantities of fresh water were loaded into wooden barrels before a voyage. These were often stored in the lower parts of the ship to serve as necessary ballast.

Water Quality: The water often became stagnant, foul-smelling, and a breeding ground for algae and microorganisms after a few weeks at sea, especially in warmer climates. To make it more palatable and to inhibit bacterial growth, it was often mixed with alcohol (wine in the French navy, or later rum, which created grog).

Replenishment: Ships relied heavily on stopping at ports or suitable landfalls such as islands with streams or springs in which to empty, clean and refill their barrels.

Early distillation
By the mid-18th century, some ships, including the HMS Victory had small sills attached to a galley stove that could distill small quantities of freshwater from sea water. However, this method only produced limited quantities e.g. 9 litres per day on a large vessel and was reserved for the sick bay. It was never a primary source of water for the entire crew due to the large quantities of wood fuel required

Later innovations
The widespread use of efficient distillation apparatus such as the French designed jet condensor only became practical with the advent of steamships in the 19th century, which had ample waste heat available from their boilers.

In essence, carrying sufficient fresh water was a constant struggle and a major limiting factor for long voyages during the age of sail.

Sources
Liverpool of the Cape: Port Elizabeth Harbour Development by E. Jon Inggs
Algoa Bay in the Age of Sail -1488-1917 – A Maritime Story by Colin Urquhart Bluecliff Publishing, Port Elizabeth

Port Elizabeth of Yore: Pinchin’s Ascent of the Cockscomb

Robert Pinchin was born in England in 1824 and died in Port Elizabeth on the 9th May 1888 at the young age of 64 probably due to overwork. He arrived in Port Elizabeth from London in 1849, marrying Mary Ann Burton on the 13th September 185., Pinchin was a land surveyor, civil engineer and architect from the end of 1849. During the period 1863 to 1868, Pinchin was in partnership with G.W. Smith. Pinchin laid out much of the first streets and properties in Central, Port Elizabeth and became a respected consultant. Robert negotiated a supply of water from the Shark River Co. to the municipality. In 1881, G.W. Smith again joined Pinchin in partnership, at Port Elizabeth, and on Pinchin’s death in 1888, took over the practice.

Pinchin’s interests were astronomy and geology. In 1862 he released his treatise in which he advocated the construction of the Van Stadens Water Scheme which would alleviate the water supply difficulties of Port Elizabeth which did not yet possess domestic plumbing. In 1870 Robert led a party which climbed the Cockscomb Peak and hence would be the 3rd successful party to do so as far as they were aware. Pinchin lived with his daughter in his mother-in-law’s house in Baakens Street and then in 1877 built a house in Park Drive. 

The Story of Pinchin’s Ascent

This narrative has been largely based upon the report that Pinchin drafted for the Herald and was published on the 20th April 1870.  Excluded are irrelevant comments and minor adjustments have been made to spellings and flow of sentences. Long sentences have also been truncated to enhance readability. Apart from these changes, the narrative is true to Pinchin’s original article in the Herald. 

Main picture: Cockscomb Peak from the north

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Lost Artefacts of Port Elizabeth: The Bathing House at Humewood

Of all the artefacts along the southern beaches, the Bathing House at the mouth of the Shark River was the most prominent landmark. Opened in 1913, it was demolished shortly before the great flood of 1968. Controversially its demolition has been conflated with the flood and has even been stated in publications that the flood was its downfall yet in fact it was demolished in 1966.

Main picture: The unusual design of the Bathing House is highlighted in this night time shot

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Port Elizabeth of Yore: The Railway Line to Humewood and the Driftsands

Of all the Branch Lines in Port Elizabeth, this one appears to be the least known. Initially it was laid as part of the project to tame the supposedly deadly driftsands which would encroach and smother the site chosen for the harbour. To prevent this apocalypse, it was decided to cover this moving sea of sand with the garbage generated by the residents of Port Elizabeth. The garbage was required as fertiliser for the planting of the chosen species of grasses, bushes and trees, the sand being further stabilised by spreading tree branches and erecting wooden fences at intervals as required.

This standard-gauge railway line was constructed in late 1892 or early 1893, and the use of the coastal section of this railway for passenger traffic followed the sale, on 30 May 1893, by the Harbour Board of 20 marine villa sites between the original Happy Valley (where the Apple Express railway line now runs) and Klein Shark River.

Main picture: The platform adjacent to Customs House to embark on the journey to Humewood

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Port Elizabeth of Yore: Frame’s Reservoir – The Unlikely Dam

The saga of how Port Elizabeth acquired an unsuitable dam on a trickle of a river as its first primary water supply in the 1860s, is explained in this blog. Sadly after a decade the water became saline and no longer potable. Perhaps this venture was emblematic of the era where vision was limited by parsimony and where, despite the Council’s laudable motives, was doomed to failure. 

For all that, the Town Council did protect the interests of its residents by not financing the project itself. So, when bankruptcy did occur, no losses were borne by the denizens of the town. 

Main picture: Opening the valve at the Frames Dam in 1863

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Happy Valley: Trip the Light Fantastic

Happy Valley was a magical place for young kids and probably still is even for the jaded visual palates of today.  In the daytime it is a pleasant stroll alongside the babbling brook that is the lower reaches of that misnomer, the Shark River, where it spills out under the bridge into Humewood Beach.  There are lily ponds, rockeries, gigantic palms and peaceful retreats in which to sit. Every few meters there is another delightful interpretation of a fairy tale or nursery rhyme scene to consider.  

Main Street: Aerial view of Happy Valley with Humewood beach on the upper right

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Port Elizabeth of Yore: The Slipway in Humewood [1903-1939]

Most residents of Port Elizabeth are unaware what the purpose of the concrete pillars jutting out of the sand between Hobie and Humewood Beach represent. It was a slipway built in 1903. By the 1850s Algoa Bay was attracting swarms of vessels of all shapes and sizes. Many used the Bay as the location to effect minor repairs before proceeding on their voyage.

It took an entrepreneur by the name of John Centlivres Chase to envisage constructing a slipway in Port Elizabeth to provide this vital service.

Main picture: Humewood 1910 with what appears to be a fishing boat being hauled up for maintenance

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What happened to the Shark River in Port Elizabeth?

Today the Shark River is a non-descript stream – more of a trickle really – that tinkles its way through Happy Valley. Being no more than 15kms in length with its source in the location marked Drinking Place on the maps, yet this self-same river was once the earliest water supply of Port Elizabeth. How was this miniscule river together with the Donkin Stream next to the Donkin Reserve capable of supplying the Town’s needs? Logically the water from the Baakens River should have been the preferred source being not only closer but more reliable with a perennial water flow.  The other mystery to me is how this docile placid stream is able to increase by the extent that it does during flooding despite having such a minute catchment area.

Main picture: The Shark River on 1st September 1968 and recently. How could such a docile placid stream be transformed into such a violent raging torrent, sweeping all before it.

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