Unknown to most, the home of the boisterous Cape fur seal colony, 130km north of Swakopmund, hosted a bustling industry in the late 19th century, harvesting both guano and seals. It also laid claim to the first postal robbery and boasted the first section of railway in the country. Who would have guessed?
But, the descriptive name ‘Cabo do Padrão’ - Cape Cross - came about four hundred years earlier in 1486 when Diogo Cão went ashore to erect a cross (or ‘padrão’) on the bleak, windblown shore. He was one of the intrepid Portuguese explorers of the time who left their homeland for years at a time, braving the vast oceans in their small wooden caravels, mapping the uncharted coastline and searching for resources and new trade routes to the East. This would be Cão’s second and last journey. His fleet returned home without him and the circumstances of his death remain mysterious.
In 1895 the strip of desert coastline attracted attention of an entirely different sort. This time Englishman Walter Matthews travelled northwards across the waterless desert from Swakopmund for the Deutsche Kolonialgesellschaft on an expedition to look for seals. While observing the healthy population of seals congregating at Cape Cross, he also noticed that the rocks were caked in layers of guano (bird droppings), which was highly valued as a fertiliser in Europe, so much so that it was dubbed ‘white gold’.
Matthews returned excitedly to Swakopmund with the news, and with the help of a wealthy uncle established the Damaraland Guano Company. He was granted a concession for ten years to look for guano deposits and to harvest the seals in the area. All equipment and necessities had to be brought in by ship from Britain, including a condensation plant to provide drinking water. With no jetty or harbour on the headland, once the goods arrived, they had to be conveyed to the shore through the breakers in small boats.
By the end of 1895, the company had also shipped approximately 70 workers to Cape Cross (from Britain, Germany and the Cape) and employed about 30 local inhabitants from the Brandberg area and surrounds. The desolate coast had been transformed into a busy operation with a cluster of buildings, which included a post office, police station and customs office. In the first nine months 5 700 000kg of guano and 2 500 seal skins were exported.
Life on the desert coastline was not easy. It exacted a toll on ships and men. A shortage of water meant that additional water had to be transported by ox-wagon from the Omaruru River, a long and arduous trek through soft sand. Unable to grow fresh vegetables, the men suffered from scurvy. If a ship was overdue, there was a shortage of food, although they were at times able to buy fresh meat from the locals. The ships were carriers of disease and Cape Cross was quarantined in 1901 to stop the spread of smallpox.
The success of the industry was short-lived. By 1903, after only nine years of production, the rocks had been stripped bare and the seal population had dwindled. Even before the ten-year concession agreement had expired, the company had ceased operation.
In the short time of its existence, however, Cape Cross made history with the 21-kilometre track that was constructed to transport guano and pelts to awaiting ships, and workers to their work sites. And it also made the news with the first ‘highway robbery’ when the postman was accosted between Henties Bay and Swakopmund while delivering mail.
Over the decades the concession to collect seal skins changed hands several times. Finally in 2001, the last of the buildings was razed to the ground to make way for the Cape Cross Lodge. Today, the Cape Cross Seal Reserve draws visitors to view the antics of the Cape fur seals, and the lodge attracts guests for its peace and coastal tranquillity.
Nothing much remains of Cape Cross’s intriguing history except for a few weather-beaten crosses in the small graveyard at the entrance to the reserve, testament to those who docked and lived there; the replicas of the original padrão, which stand near the seal colony in memory of the intrepid Portuguese explorers who courageously navigated into the unknown; and a rusty strip of railway that peeps out unassumingly from the desert sand.
And as for the original padrão? The cross was removed in 1893 by the captain of the ship SMS Falke and taken to Berlin. It was exhibited in the Deutsches Historisches Museum and finally returned home to Namibia in 2019, coming full circle more than 500 years after Diogo Cão first set foot on the barren shore.
(References: Bridgeford, P&M. Cape Cross: Past and Present, John Meinert Printers, 2002; The Cape Cross Lodge Museum)