COLOURED PEOPLE AND THEIR HISTORIES TOGETHER WITH THE SEA.
Before you continue here, at the time of writing this piece I identified as a Cape Coloured and understood that using the term ‘Coloured’ was still “ok”. As I publish this piece today I am uncomfortable by the use of the word but still am unsure of what to identify as in this regard. If you have any ideas to add or advice to share on this matter, your commentary is welcomed. Thank you and enjoy.
Being Cape Coloured in South Africa has long been based on stereotypes such as the coarseness of your hair, the way you say “jy” (you), and where you come from, thought to be the Cape Flats. I have travelled and stayed in many places around South Africa, particularly Pretoria, and have always been barreled with the same narrow-stereotypes alike with the ones mentioned above. These stereotypes are by far what makes the Cape Coloured, coloured. During apartheid under the Group Areas Act. of 1950, the Coloured community, as were all who was classified as ‘non-white’, was forcefully removed from areas they called home. Areas so-called “white areas”, such as Simons Town, Noordhoek, Red Hill and Glencairn were originally home to the Coloured Community. (South Africa History Online). The coloured community was falsely promised proximity of the sea. One township where relocation was allocated was ironically called “Ocean View”, but no view of the ocean was in sight.
Forced removal destroyed the physical space of the Coloured Community. Removal also severed the bond between people and place which resulted in a scattered sense of community and identity (Sittert 2). However, one thing the Coloured Community share and have in common is the sea and our history with Her. The sea has fed, accommodated, and maintained the culture of the Cape Coloured community; economically and socially. It has and continues to play an integral part of the Cape Coloured identity. In Cape Town, Western Cape, the predominant racial make-up is coloured. According to Statistics South Africa, the population group that is more than any other are the ‘coloured’ people. (I put inverted commas around the word coloured because I believe that there is not one kind of coloured person in South Africa). The stereotypes that have for long defined our diverse make-up of a community gave false identities.
The sea has been a reoccurring element in the identity of the Cape Coloured. The majority of the Cape’s fishermen, past and present, have been coloured men. Where the fish processors also fish cleaners have traditionally been coloured women. By exploring these relationships in this essay, as well as reflecting on discussions done at Kalk Bay Fishing Harbour, I will be discussing the economic mobility it has given and continues to give to the Cape Coloured community. The social and recreational space it provides for the Coloured community, as well as how the sea and its marine life contributed to the food closely associated with the Cape Coloured community. The discussions took place at Kalk Bay Harbour, around 4 o’clock PM. I spoke to a fisherman, fish buyer and fish cleaner. Most information and in-depth understanding came from Shafiek Isaacs who is a fish buyer. Therefore most of what is to be understood in this essay will be via my understanding of what Shafiek has discussed and mentioned.
ECONOMY OF FISHING
The economic cornerstone of a part of the Cape Coloured economy is fishing. For decades fishing earned the members of the community an income and ensured a plate of food on the dinner table. In a piece about a small town called Hottentots Huisie, Lance van Stittert states; “In summer the south-easter forces plumes of cold, nutrient-rich water to well up along the coast sustaining a rich marine environment. The combination of shelter, water, food, and isolation made Hottentots Huisie a haven for marginal groups” (3). Speaking to a fish buyer at Kalk Bay harbour Shafiek “Fikkie” Isaacs, “fish sustains the Kalk Bay coloured community … out of seven days, my family eat fish five days a week, you see my darling”. Another staple food during the 50s was crayfish, considered ‘the poor man's diet’. According to one boat owner, a ‘langana’ kreef (crayfish) was the poor mans food. “The sea sustains the boat owner, the fisherman, the fish buyer even to the fish cleaner” (Shafiek). Shafiek, has been part of the Kalk Bay fishing community for over 14 years, his wife for over 40 years. “my wife has been here for 40 years already, she was born into this, her mother was here and before that here grandmother was here also” (Shafiek). This indicates a strong familial tradition to fishing culture. “In the Western Cape, most fish traders indicated that they had a strong family tradition in selling snoek” (Mubaiwa 81).
However, the narrative of being fully sustained on fishing alone has dramatically changed over the past four years for the fishing community. As actors within the informal economy, it would be unimaginable that snoek sellers are not without challenges. The monopolization of big fishing companies such as I&J, Sea Harvest, and Oceana has resulted in the South African government favouring these companies with larger quota allocations. This means that small-scale fishing, such as in Kalk Bay, are gravely affected.
According to Shafiek, for four years, he shows four flakey, rugged fingers, Kalk Bay Harbour has not had the influx of fish, especially snoek, whereas, “before you see all these tables here ne, they were all full of fish, but now there’s nothing”. Fisheries officials do not protect small-scale fishers’ interests. Industrial fishing vessels are frequently accused of damaging or destroying nets of small-scale fishers, either intentionally or inadvertently as a result of increased boat traffic (Benkenstein 17). “The government only sees money and they look the other way when we knock on their doors … from making R300 a day, I now only make R150” (Shafiek).
SOCIAL SPACE
The sea was and still is a free activity. Coloured people are seen as middle class and the majority of the Cape Coloured community live in gang stricken areas and poverty. Going to the beach for fun is rare happening for most coloured’s. The culturally produced context of the beach for the coloured community is the idea of a holiday and removing themselves from their realities which are day-to-day going to school, coming from work, preparing food. Outings are not often because of the lack of employment amongst the coloured community. In a 2014 survey on unemployment in South Africa, Coloured’s stand at the second-highest number of unemployment at 28%. This provides for a mindset that whatever money comes in, it should be spent and kept only for when it is needed. “At the end of the week, I make R1000, my expenses are already R800, then I need to save it for a rainy day, I don’t go to the beach for fun my darling … ok maybe boxing day or so” (Shafiek).
The opportunity for outdoor recreation is aided by Cape Town’s geography. Although for most of the coloured communities it is a far ride out, it is a journey made by most on public holidays, such as boxing day. An outing on an early Saturday morning with all your cousins, aunts, and uncles. Sitting behind the buckie and sharing one packet of Simba chips between six of us, licking and sucking your fingers blue hoping to get that last linger of salt and vinegar. One incident that will stick with me forever, came back to me writing this piece. One summers night I decided to go to a far-out market in a small fishing town, to enjoy the food and live music. The space is predominantly white and as a person of colour, you really do stick out from the crowd. But then thinking about this I realized that I was the only person of colour sticking out in the crowd, the others were behind the stall, selling merchandise most probably not their own. This flustered me a bit and I decided to head outside. Again, the only person of colour. Eventually, I found myself conversing with two English women, then out of nowhere a voice from behind said, “be careful coloured people are dangerous, don’t trust them”. I was speechless. I walked away, not saying anything, my friends were still there. I needed to breathe, I told myself. I looked over the fence. I saw coloured people, families mostly, having fun eating their home-packed-snacks. Seemingly forgetting about their reality and enjoying the liberty of the sea space. Most noticeably the fact that there was a fence separating two different public spaces was evoking. In a matter of meters, two different contexts that spoke thousands about the social and economic indifferences of a land.
SEA IS COLOURED IDENTITY — STAPLE DIET:
As I mentioned at the beginning of this essay, the sea is an occurring element in the discussion of the coloured identity. Not only is it the place of recreation, sustenance of the economy of the coloured fishing community but also the provider of the diet staple of the coloured community as a whole. Snoek and slap chips. “Snoek has connotations that associate the acts of catching and eating it with a particular race” (Norton 4)
Reading an excerpt from Richard Rives, Buckingham Palace, sums it up; “I was sent to Millard’s Fish and Chips shop beyond Tennant Street to get the evening’s supper” (2). One part that is really reminiscent of childhood is when he says, “on the way home I raced to keep the parcels hot, but not so fast that I could not pierce a small hole in the packet and remove a few chips” (2). During the 20th century, stockpiling dried snoek and keeping other meat like chicken were strategies to guard against the hunger during lean times along the west coast (Sittert 8). Snoek was also sold at a cheap price making it extremely easy for those who could not afford to buy meat for instance. Norton states in her article, on the significant presence of snoek in the history of the Western Cape and the development of the community, that snoek was at a stage sold at cost as cat food (5). With that being said, I do not mean to portray that snoek is only part of coloured identity because it was cheap, because this is not the case. Snoek was in abundance and also was a very tasty fish for the price it was sold at.
CONCLUSION
Through conducting discussions with members of the fishing community in Kalk Bay Harbour, and exploring the various ways in which the sea aided during the past, present and most likely, future for the coloured community, through sustaining them with food and recreational space, as well as economical security. Another idea explored and crystalized in this essay is how the sea has also formed an unbreakable bond alongside the Cape Coloured identity, through aspects such as food and recreation/social space. There are various aspects of the sea whose height of importance lays varied to different cultures of the Western Cape. The sea shows us not only how the coloured communities formed relationships with objects, spaces, and food, but how these matters feedback into the community’s perceptions of themselves as individuals and as a community. As Imraan Coovadia states in his book, The institute of taxi poetry, “the snoek has no teeth tiny enough by which to grasp its own condition”.
REFERENCE LIST:
Benkenstein, Alex. 2013. Small-Scale Fisheries in a Modernising Economy: Opportunities and Challenges in Mozambique. South African Institute of International Affairs, Johannesburg, South Africa.
Coovadia, Imraan. 2012. The institute of taxi poetry. Umuzi, Cape Town, South Africa.
Isaaics, Shafiek. Personal interview. 24 March 2018.
Mubaiwa, Pasipanodya. Assessing the role played by informal traders within the
snoek value chain in selected townships in Cape Town, South Africa. University of Western Cape. 2014. Web. 24 March 2018.
Norton, Marieke. “The Life and Times of Snoek”. Ecology and Society (2013). JStor. Web. 22 March 2018.
Rive, Richard. 1986. Buckingham Palace. New Africa Books, Claremont, South Africa.
Van Sittert, Lance. ‘To Live This Poor Life’: Remembering the Hottentots Huisie Squatter Fishery, Cape Town, c. 1934-c. 1965. (2001): 1–21. Taylor & Francis. Web. 20 March 2018.
