CHRIS BENNETT was in the thick of it in Port Edward.
A PRETTY place, Port Edward. Notwithstanding an apparently blissful unawareness of town planning (which may be a blessing) this little seaside resort has a lot of charm.
The town was established in the early 1920s, or thereabouts. It was founded on a farm called Banner Rest, owned by a certain Ken Pringle, who may have been a descendant of the 1820 settlers. The name is retained in the lovely retirement village of Banners Rest
Following a visit to the area by the Prince of Wales, Prince Edward, the heir to King George V, possibly in 1924, Pringle renamed the town Port Edward. It is one of the few towns named after this man, who reigned for one year from January to December 1936. He abdicated in order to marry the woman he loved, Mrs Wallis W Simpson, an American. He was succeeded by his brother Bertie, who reigned as George VI, and whose great-grandson was married in a not altogether unnoticed ceremony in London
Last weekend also saw the annual ski-boat fishing competition at Port Edward, with competitors from all over the country, and for the occasion Port Edward was en fête.
Cars and bakkies from all over the republic crowded into the little town, towing all manner of ski-boats; large, larger and largest.
Festooned with astonishing and brilliantly shining paraphernalia, these magnificent vessels were equipped with outboard motors that looked as though they would propel an ocean liner. Some carried two, brooding on the sterns of the spotless, gleaming craft like beached whales.
The boats taking part in this seriously important and widely popular event were launched at slipways all along the South Coast
Activities started around sunrise on Saturday and lasted for two days. Hundreds of cars, bakkies and motor bikes crowded into the little area next to the National Sea Rescue Institute’s boathouse overlooking Silver Beach. The motor bikes, part of a now established national rally, were astonishing in their glitz, power and growling formidable presence.
By ten o’clock the place had become a carnival. Stalls selling everything from food to mementos and back to food (and then more food) had sprung up along the road that runs past the police camp to the NSRI building.
The local watering hole, The Web (of intrigue?) had a stall there, making thirst unlikely, taking into account that there were also the bar at the club and the always popular Bobbies' restaurant.
I have seldom seen a pub as interesting as the Web, in the heart of Port Edward. It has a pleasant presence, and is attended by its affable and friendly hosts, Dennis and Rhona, both of whom are noted bookworms. The pub boasts a modest and interesting little collection of volumes, something rare these days, to say the least.
An enterprising pancake seller had hired the services of a young lad as a barker, who called his wares with the enthusiasm of a New York
A Port Edwardian of note, Wendy Waddacor, who manned an Aladdin’s cave of a stall, confessed to having been a fisher since the age of four, a year or so ago, said that a fisher, once hooked, would fish for ever.
Somewhere around lunchtime the boats started to return to the bay, beaching themselves between enormous sparkling, tumbling white-horse-maned surfing waves.
The final fishing, and the ceremony of rewarding the winner, was on Sunday. The main prize was a magnificent new ski-boat worth around R300 000.
Once again the willing, if sometimes frustrated (people tend to be thick), team of John Doveton has pulled off a fine achievement, aided and abetted by bright blue skies, shining seas, golden sands and lots of fun for visitors.
Well done Port Edward!
CB
5/5/11
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