Apart from its historic context, Robben Island is quite an exotic place.
We have looked over it from our balcony, a mere seven kilometers away, just a thin strip of land in the middle of the tempestuous ocean that is the southeastern most point of the Atlantic. The island was named after the numerous colonies of seals who have made their home here. Aside from that, there are tortoises, springbok, and many other species of wildlife, not to mention the whales (and many sharks) you will encounter in the water.
Of course, that's like writing about the botany on Alcatraz or the rabbits roaming the grounds around Dachau. Robben Island will forever be interwoven with the penal colony that was first formed there more than three centuries ago. This is where we decide to spend Thanksgiving Day.
From the mainland, it is a 25 minute ride aboard a ferry, in this case a super-fast passenger yacht that crashes through the ocean, not unlike the yacht we took to Zanzibar a while back.
Once we reach the island, the ferry anchors and we are herded aboard a bus for a tour of the oval shaped island. At the prison, we are greeted by Charles, a former prisoner on Robben Island when apartheid in South Africa was in its heyday. The prison itself was divided into different sections, from F to A. A Section held the most well-behaved prisoners, while F included the newbies, or those with no rights at all. From F Section, you could move up, depending on conduct and your rapport with the guards. A Section prisoners were able to receive visitors more frequently, were permitted to study, read newspapers, buy cigarettes, etc. Nelson Mandela himself made it as far as the B Section, where he regularly played tennis in the yard. He spent 18 of his 27 years in prison here.
Not to be deceived by rank or section, life on Robben Island was miserable. The prisoners were forced to work at a nearby lime quarry, where each of them needed to meet a certain quota for the day, or lose certain privileges - some would say basic rights - such as entire meals. In all, 38 prisoners were said to have perished during this type of hard labor, owing to the inhalation of the fine but fatal particles. Nelson Mandela himself paid tribute to these victims when he returned, years after the prison had been shut down.
The cells themselves are tiny, eight by eight feet, and yet Mandela was able to cram both a bed and a desk into his own cell. Although I take a photo of Mandela's cell like the rest of the group, all the cells look the same. Certainly, Mandela was the undisputed star prisoner on the island, but I still gaze into every cell. It would not be fair to marginalize the 3,000 plus other prisoners who called the island their home. Add to the political prisoners the insane who were quarantined here, plus the lepers, and the place becomes synonymous with enforced isolation.
Looking out of the cells, it's hard not to invoke memories of another famous prison island, that of Alcatraz in San Francisco Bay. Only Alcatraz doesn't nearly compare with Robben Island. Alcatraz was home to well-known crooks who belonged there. Robben Island predominantly housed political prisoners, who had the courage and the heart that people like Al Capone could have only dreamed of.
In the end, we walk back to the harbor where the ferry is waiting. This is the walk every prisoner took once he was dismissed from the island. As a tribute to the prisoners, I walk with my head held up, in much the same way they did, once their sentences ended, often as soon as apartheid did. In front of the prison, a stiff wind snaps the proud flag of South Africa, and I realize that there is no better place for it than here.
On the way back to Cape Town, there are armies of high waves crashing above us. Although I regularly tend to get motion sick, I am relatively calm on the ride back. This is when I realize that my tempest here doesn't nearly compare to that of Mandela and all political prisoners who once called Robben Island home.
This is post number 300 of Worldchump, and I can't think of a more humbling topic to write about than Robben Island, a source of oppression, but ultimately inspiration to all. Free Nelson Mandela.
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