Durban North Pier (often called the North Beach Pier or North Pier) was a popular landmark and fishing/surfing spot along Durban’s famous beachfront in KwaZulu-Natal
Images from Durban the days that were
As long as I can remember, the north pier at the entrance to Durban Harbor was always featured in my routine. A poignant monument honored the “Lady in White,” who sang to troopships departing during the war. I went there on my bicycle with a hand line, roamed up and down the pier all day, climbing the rocks to retrieve sinkers, those concrete blocks were a gift from the devil for most kids. All day catching Karenteen and blacktail and going home with the smell of sardines and sunburn as a reward. Point road was in its hey day, Indian tea rooms (ark royal) was the usual stop, with an array of everything in the southern hemisphere hanging on the walls and in fridges. These shops lined the street with boards for fresh bait and were open from 5am to 10pm, they would not close if a tsunami flooded the point. The only fish we got to eat was a tin of sardines and half a loaf bread we bounced for lunch. North Pier was an on and off relationship, I would like to say it made us fisherman but alas all it did was let the poor kids have fun and grow up the way kids should.
Later in life I did my apprenticeship on the good ol railways and as an appy i had to change the lights and fix what was broken along the pier, wind howling and extension ladder i spent two day swaying and praying as i thought i was about to become shark food in the bay, eventually it was done, that evening after i had bathed, showers were for larneys we never had that privilege, i jumped on my trusty scooter, that vespa lasted me a long time and is still a highlight in my life, that’s another story, anyway i made my way to the pier and remember sitting on the railway lines and staring down the length at all the lights, i was a hero, the fact that i was the only one who knew it did not matter, i rode home and stopped for a bean bunny chow to celebrate, life was good.
After my apprenticeship i bought fishing rods made brackets to clip on the railway lines for the rods and armed with buckets, cooler boxes and an array of implements i spent a few weekends fishing, as it happens i never caught fish, spent my money feeding them, the Indians (they have a way with fish believe me) on the other hand went home with shad, blacktail, grunter, salmon and a lot of illegal fish as well in sacks. It did not matter.
Eventually I aged and bought a car, picked up a small dog from the spca and i used to go on a Sunday to the great pier, sit in my car looking at the going on’s, finally i gave up feeding the fish, we would walk down the pier greeting the fisherman and watch kids running in the rocks to find sinkers. The sellers were there with ice cream, mielies, samoosas and an array of food from the Indian vendors. Sitting in the car eating, watching the sun go down, the ships entering and leaving, the guy on his delivery bike who used a kite to drop bait, the surfers taking the fisherman’s tackle and paddling out with it, and finally going home happy and content, a weekend had passed.
The holiday season saw the Vaalies arrive with their dam rods, a few snapped and many went home roasted red, Durban sun did not show favorites. The kids with their colorful buckets, spades and small nets the Indian shops used to sell, knowing very well that they were about as useful as a snowball in hell. That did not matter, what counted was the pleasure in life.
The internet had arrived and progress was fixing things, making everything better, the pier was demolished to make way for a deeper harbor, the new pier went up all shiny and a smart lighthouse placed at the end. As with all progress came authority, the pier was closed, after a many years (built by Scottish engineer John Milne, arriving in 1849 he completed it 1893) it was for some reason dangerous now, an old rickety pier was good for a hundred years, it fed people, saved people and was a top tourist attraction.
The kids crawling the rocks replaced were by kids on drugs sleeping in the rocks, the parks board was replaced by security guards with sticks chasing the drug addicts, the fisherman are gone, the vendors gone replaced with emptiness, the lights gone and replaced with shadows that stand testimony to the fact that progress is better. A few pictures are hidden in the internet, the memories of a life etched in a few peoples minds, soon we that know will be gone, AI will paint a bleak life we had, progress will advance and make billionaires of a few at the expense of the under privileged, we had nothing and made a life of what we could, we were free, we survived, we were a problem.
Every story had a bright ending, the fish are swimming, no one is eating them anymore, then again no one is feeding them either.
Progress is coming again, the Chinese trawlers are bigger, faster and can feed more quicker, let the oceans rape begin, progress needs to keep going, soon the last memory of a once great North Pier will lay quietly with the last custodians in the grave.
Will I become food for worms or be used to feed the fish.
Then again there is the movie Snowpiercer where the poor were turned into protein bars to feed the rich.
