I am on the constant receiving end of complaints from the public about the PE Harbour security – mostly from people who are on the receiving end of the random implementation of some arbitrary requirement before they may be granted entry to the harbour area.
Before we get into my unique solution to the moans and groans let me point out that the Yacht Club (have you tried the Chartroom Restaurant yet?) has not had one incident of a vehicle being stolen or broken into since the implementation of harbour security. Not only that, but ABYC also do not have pesky car guards moping around looking to fleece the satiated or inebriated either.
It is a well known fact that Transet, despite being a taxpayer owned entity, have a certain abhorrence for the media and dedicate themselves to making entrance to the harbour area as difficult as possible. On one recent occasion I was told by a senior security employee; “We know who you are and follow your bakkie and you on our cameras when you enter the harbour!” I am so glad that security know who I am – if only I could find out who I am as well then all would be good in the world. As a result I now use the Gas Guzzler when wanting to enter the harbour in my capacity as hated media person.
As a long standing yacht club member I am in and out of the harbour on many occasions and can attest to the seemingly random methods employed by security guards at the Baakens Street Entrance. They range from waving everyone through to cursory interrogation to demanding to see ID books, looking in cubbyholes or boots.
At the risk of being slammed (YET AGAIN) as a narrow minded sexist I need to qualify that the following scientific conclusion is based on years of entry and exit from the Baakens Street Entrance and NOT as a result of being denied mothers milk as a child. The most vicious and obstructive security guards with chips the size of Quasimodo’s hump are the female guards. They fix one with a gaze reminiscent of Winnie denying any knowledge of how to strike a match and exude the total opposite of any illusion of customer satisfaction.
A while back there was one particularly venomous doe eyed guard of very uncertain beauty who managed to rile me up so much that I actually lost my temper with her. The Longhair (who, as a female, CANNOT be sexist, ever, at all, never ….) prompted me into the following dastardly plan of revenge against all future security guards who have got up on the wrong side of the bed to go to a job that they hate anyway:
- If the security guards use an access sheet then sign in as F. Ucker, R. Sole, John Cena, M. Mouse or any other character that takes your fancy. A special torture of mine is to sign in with the same name as the person behind me in the queue.
- If the security guard asks for identification take this simple request as a sign that the guard wants to chat – switch off your car, get out, ask the guard about her family and job, page slowly through your wallet in search of your drivers licence, drop your keys, pick them up slowly, drop your wallet, pick it slowly, look under the car for some ‘lost money’, go around to the passenger side to look in the cubbyhole for your drivers licence, walk back to the drivers side and continue looking for your licence, find your licence and pull it out slowly, ask to see the guard’s licence so you can see who has the ugliest photo, listen out for hooting cars and other drivers spewing invective, smile and wave at your mates in the queue, get slowly back into your car, get back out again and invite the guard to look in your boot (“I am out anyway so you may as well look”), start walking to the boot immediately, call the security guard over to look, wait expectantly, slowly shrug your shoulders, walk back slowly, offer to open the back doors for the security guard to check, smile a lot, make jokes with the other security guards, get slowly back in your car, struggle to start your car, move slowly forward to the speed hump, stop, get out your car to check that your car won’t scrape going over the hump, ask the security guards opinion, duck as the guard throws eye daggers at you, get back in your car slowly, ask the guard to get down on her stomach to check that your car does not scrape, drive slowly over the hump AND, as the boom closes slowly behind you drive off at a stink spoed.
- On your return smile smugly as the security guards just wave you through until they deploy another joy sucking female guard in the place of the one that you spent all that time orientating.
Alan Straton
Latest posts by Alan Straton (see all)
- Soccer Laduma Urges SA Punters to Read the Terms Before They Bet This October - 21 October 2026
- Nifty Gifts Rounds up Spring Birthday Gifts and New Arrivals for Her - 21 October 2026
- Blackrock Towing Readies Gauteng Drivers for Spring Storm Season Breakdowns - 21 October 2026
- SAFRA Marks 15 Years and Nearly 500,000 Moving Quotes - 19 October 2026
- SAFRA Unveils Exciting Website Upgrade for Easier Moving Quotes - 19 October 2026
I would pay to see this 🙂
I think I’m going to sell tickets. Let us know what date the next show will be…
Now you are sparking ideas – anyone want to YouTube this?
We were stopped on Sun evening for a couple of minutes. There was a huge box on the back of the bakkie though.
And you missed the opportunity to unpack the entire box?
Shame on you – now go right back and practice that Ubuntu you lazy git, mumble, mumble, groan.
🙂