It is entirely possible that Cape Town could have been - instead of where it is situated now - a very long and stretched-out city along the False Bay coast.  The fact that Jan van Riebeeck first set foot on land under Table Mountain was largely because the mountain is a rather unmissable landmark and would be the obvious place to drop anchor. 

But a few months of the north-westerly storms of Table Bay sent sailors scuttling off to the more protected side of the Cape in False Bay and for quite a while it was touch and go whether the Company Gardens would occupy their current position or whether they would be set out on the slopes of the Swartberge above the thin string of settlement on False Bay.  But Table Bay had a slight edge for various reasons and so Cape Town went on to become, well, Cape Town, and Simon’s Town – hugely preferred by sailors – went on to become this romantic and atmospheric little naval town, with twisting narrow streets, old buildings with seafaring histories, and lots of sailors in gleaming white uniforms. Most of the buildings in Simon’s Town date from 1814 when the British Royal Navy converted it into a naval base for their South Atlantic Squadron.  Several of these buildings have been turned into museums, most notably the old Magistrate’s Court.  Another museum is in the Martello Tower, built by the British for defence when they were worried that Napoleon would seize the Cape from them. (It is fascinating to speculate what South Africa would be like today if the French had indeed occupied the Cape.  One thing for sure, safari suits would never have taken off.) But I digress. The Simon’s Town Museum is a fascinating place to visit. Housed in The Residency, built in 1777 as the Governor’s residence and since a hospital, school, post office, police station, customs house and gaol, it runs the gamut from relics of the Old Gaol and antique punishments, to shipwreck flotsam and jetsam, to artifacts from a more genteel age. There’s a stunning doll’s house from the Edwardian era featuring gas lamps that actually work, a fully stocked pantry and a dipsomaniac granny.  (You don’t believe me?  Go and look). I suppose one of the reasons why I love museums is because it makes me very thankful that I live in a modern age with conveniences like electric blankets, pain-free dentists and pizza delivery.  The part of the Simon’s Town Museum that appealed to me the most, however, was the section about Naval Pets. It starts off as a salute to Just Nuisance, the vast Great Dane that was the Royal Navy’s mascot during World War Two. The sailors who adopted this cute little puppy clearly had no idea that Just Nuisance was going to grow into a six-foot-tall canine who, when he slept on your bunk, occupied the whole of it and lapped over the sides. From Just Nuisance the display goes on to the phenomenon of pets on board ship, which was clearly far more prolific than anyone would have thought.   The Royal Navy encouraged sailors to take their pets on board as it was supposed to raise morale and – in extremities – prevent them from starving at sea.  Although what it did to morale to serve Tiddles for dinner is questionable. Anyway, this policy received a sharp overhaul in the 1840s when a ship was discovered to have 1 650 pets on board, including a dancing bear, a deer, various cats and dogs, birds and pigs.  The directive went out:  one animal per ship, please – and from then on it was customary to have a single mascot of the feline or canine persuasion. Possibly the most unusual ship’s pet was a leopard – a feisty female whose favourite way of whiling away boredom at sea was to hide behind stanchions and jump out at the sailors.  This was fine when people were used to it on board ship, but the large cat had to be locked up in port as she was startling the stevedores.   There is a lovely photograph in the museum of this leopard shaking paws with some minor royalty who was inspecting the vessel. Like most of the museums in Simon’s Town (there’s a Toy Museum and a Maritime Museum, among others) this place depends on visitors and local charity for its continued existence so, if you do visit – and I urge you to do so – donate generously.  It would be a great sadness to lose such quirky artifacts of another age. All the main attractions are on the single main road, and the central hub of Simon’s Town is the town square.  It has delightful restaurants and shops and, of course, the life-size statue of Just Nuisance in his bronze glory, looking out to sea and waiting for his ship to come in.