 By
the Way by Trixie Heron
One of a kind: Able Seaman Just Nuisance,
R.N.
This story is strange but true. The birth of this
unique Great Dane was recorded on Thursday 1st April 1937 in Rondebosch.
As a puppy he was bought by Benjamin Chaney, a newcomer to Simon’s
Town as head of the United Services Institute. In those days the
Simon’s Town Naval Base fell under the command of the Royal
Navy, whose sailors spent a lot of time at the USI. The friendly
pup grew up in this very sociable environment where the sailors
made a great fuss of him, treating him to a variety of tasty treats
and beer. He soon grew into a big, strong dog of gigantic proportions
and gentle nature. The sailors loved having him around and often
took him for walks. He recognised them by their wide bell-bottom
trousers and square blue-trimmed collars, and looked upon all of
them as special friends whose presence meant good treats and fun
times. He didn’t bother to give civilians or servicemen in
other uniforms a second look. Before long, the doggy walks took
him further and further away from the USI: the naval base, the dockyards,
and eventually onto the Royal Navy ships at their moorings. He was
particularly fond of visiting HMS Neptune, where he would take up
point duty at the top of the gangplank, curled up on the brow of
the deck, making it difficult for anyone to pass by. Sailors grumbled
that he was just a nuisance… The name stuck: Just Nuisance
he was, and Just Nuisance he would stay.
Just Nuisance took to following sailors on shore
leave, who caught the electric train and headed 22 miles north,
27 stations away. Somehow he knew exactly where to disembark. Before
long he was a regular, well-known train commuter, jumping on and
off at different stations. A dog travelling by train unaccompanied
was unheard of. Sailors trying to hide him from ticket collectors
soon discovered that keeping a Great Dane out of sight was no easy
task, and ticket collectors often forced the dog off the train at
the next station. But Just Nuisance was four paws ahead of them.
He would simply settle down, wait, and catch the next train heading
in the same direction. There were a few threatening encounters with
angry conductors, when Just Nuisance had to make his presence felt
by standing up on his hind legs, placing his gigantic paws on the
official’s shoulders, and uttering a menacing growl… He
was probably just trying to solve the problem in a perfectly reasonable
manner, man to man. However, his owner began to receive ultimatums
to keep his dog confined, pay his fares or get rid of him. Things
took a nasty turn when the railway authorities threatened to have
the commuting canine put down. But they had not reckoned on the
reaction of the community, who sprang into action in support of
the sailors’ best friend.
Just Nuisance was in big trouble, but his friends
were friends indeed. Letters arrived on the desk of the Naval Commander-in-Chief.
He joined the action and took the bold decision to enlist Just Nuisance
into the Royal Navy, thereby solving the problem with one stroke
of the pen: during the war years enlisting volunteers were issued
with free passes for travelling on the trains! Friday, 25th August
1939, marks the auspicious occasion when Just Nuisance was enlisted
into the Royal Navy. On the official papers, his Christian name
was entered as: “Just”, his trade was given as “Bone
crusher”, and his religious denomination was defined as “Scrounger”,
which was later updated to the more dignified, politically correct
“Canine Divinity League”, an anti-vivisection body. Following
regulations to the letter, the Royal Navy put the new volunteer
through the prescribed medical examination before being declared
fit to assume active duty. He passed with barking colours, and signed
his enlistment form by making his mark with his extra large paw.
The newly enlisted Ordinary Seaman took his new
status seriously, sleeping on the beds of the sailors, stretched
out full length with his head resting on the pillow just like any
other dog-tired man after a hard day of working like a dog. Just
Nuisance even had his own batman – a sailor who was given the
task of seeing to his personal hygiene and kitting him out in his
seaman’s hat for parades. One thing got right up the Great
Dane’s nose: why on this dog’s earth would sailors try
to solve their problems with their fists? He would simply leap in
between the pugilists and stop the fighting by standing up on his
hind legs with his paws on their chests, as if shouting: “Break!”
like a firm-pawed referee. No messing! His almost-human actions
endeared him to all who knew him. It was not long before he was
promoted to Able Seaman Just Nuisance R.N., and his new rank came
with additional perks – naval rations!
His collar, official papers and a large collection
of photographs are on display in the Simon’s Town Museum. His
conduct sheet lists misdemeanours such as travelling on a train
without his free pass (punishment: confined to the banks of Froggy
Pond, Lily Pool, with all lamp posts removed), sleeping on a bed
in the Petty Officer’s dormitory (for which he was deprived
of bones for seven days), going AWOL, losing his collar, and resisting
ejection from the Sailors’ and Soldiers’ Home (no punishment
awarded). Just Nuisance was no pussycat, and there were more serious
offences: fighting with the mascots of other Royal Navy vessels,
and even causing the death of the mascots on HMS Shropshire and
HMS Redoubt.
From 1940 Just Nuisance was stationed at HMS Afrikander.
It was there that he received his official discharge from the Royal
Navy on Monday, 1st January 1944. It is sad but true that Great
Danes do not live to a grand old age. He was slowly becoming paralysed
as a result of a thrombosis following a car accident, and the veterinary
surgeon’s prognosis was that nothing could be done. On 1st
April 1944, the day of his 7th birthday, Just Nuisance seemed to
understand that he was going on his last ride, as his companions
took him by truck to the Simon’s Town Naval Hospital, where
the Naval Surgeon put him to sleep with tender loving care. On 2nd
April 1944 at 11:30, with his body wrapped in a canvas bag and covered
with a white Royal Naval Ensign, Able Seaman Just Nuisance R.N.
was laid to rest with full military honours at Klaver Camp at the
top of Red Hill, while a party of Royal Marines fired a farewell
salute and a lone bugler played The Last Post. A simple granite
gravestone
stands guard at the head of his last resting place.
The legend lives on and visitors to Simon’s
Town still pay tribute to Just Nuisance. A statue of this truly
extraordinary character who was more human than hound, has pride
of place in Jubilee Square, Simon’s Town, from where he wistfully
looks out toward the sailors he served so long and so well. Just
Nuisance Day is celebrated annually with a parade of Great Danes
and other canines through Simon’s Town to Jubilee Square.
This article kindly contributed by ON
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