Did you know that Just Nuisance, the only dog ever officially enlisted in the British Royal Navy, was born and bred in South Africa?
Just Nuisance is a legend among the community of Simon’s Town. His very name conjures up images of a hulking, happy-go-lucky Great Dane, his seaman’s cap hanging on his head for dear life as he explored the dockyards and ships of the seaside town, navigated the local railway and broke up his fellow sailors’ fights.
During one of the darkest periods in our world’s history, this lovable pooch was a beacon of light, his exploits evoking smiles among sailors and locals alike.
THE EARLY DOG DAYS
Just Nuisance was reportedly born on 1 April 1937 in Rondebosch, which is located in Cape Town’s southern peninsula. He was subsequently sold to one Benjamin Chaney, who was in charge of the United Service Institute (USI) in Simon’s Town.
In no time, this pup went from staying in a leafy suburb to living his best life by the seaside. It was here that he grew into a dog that was larger than life – indeed, the Great Dane measured a little over two metres when he stood on his hind legs.
The USI was frequented by sailors who belonged to the Royal Navy, which at the time ran the Simon’s Town Base. These men doted upon Chaney’s dog, feeding him delicious treats (including beer!) and taking him for walks.
In return, he began following these sailors about. The naval base, dockyards and even the shipping vessels became his haunting grounds as he accompanied his newfound friends.
According to accounts, the big dog’s favourite ship to visit was the HMS Neptune, a British Leander-class light cruiser. He often plonked himself on Neptune’s deck, lounging at the top of the gangplank.
Sailors who struggled to get past his massive bulk complained and called him a “nuisance”. And thus, “Just Nuisance” came to be his name.
JUST NUISANCE: FROM RAILWAY TO ROYAL NAVY
Because of his attachment to the sailors, Just Nuisance would also follow them on the trains. He would board the train for free at Simon’s Town and travel with on-leave sailors on a railway route that went all the way to Cape Town, over 35 kilometres away.
These trips weren’t without their troubles, though: despite the sailors’ best efforts to conceal him on the trains, ticket collectors would discover Just Nuisance onboard and force him to disembark at the next train station.
Fortunately, being a frequent traveller meant that Just Nuisance was well-acquainted with the stations on his route. So, if he ever got booted off, he unabashedly either waited at the station for another train or simply walked back to the previous station. That way, he could continue on his merry journey.
This infuriated railway officials, who warned Chaney to curb Just Nuisance’s behaviour or pay his fares. Otherwise, they would be forced to euthanise him.
Sailors were appalled by the predicament that their canine companion was in. Rallying together, they appealed to the Commander-in-Chief of the Royal Navy to intervene. Realising how much of a morale booster the dog was to his men, the Commander decided to enlist Just Nuisance into the navy.
And so, after undergoing a medical exam and signing his enlistment papers with a pawmark, Just Nuisance became an official member on 25 August 1939, just one week before World War II broke out.
A LIFE OF ACTIVE DUTY AND MISCHIEF
Per his enlistment papers, the Great Dane was designated as “Ordinary Seaman Just Nuisance”. His given trade was “Bonecrusher”, while his religion was listed as “Scrounger” – the latter was later changed to “Canine Divinity League (Anti-Vivisection)”. He was posted to HMS Afrikander in Simon’s Town.
As a member of the Royal Navy, Just Nuisance was entitled to free passage on the railway. This allowed him to train-hop without hassle. He also had a bunk at Klaver Camp, plus a reserved bed at the Union Jack Club in Cape Town.
As part of the wartime effort to boost morale, the dog attended many naval functions, including parades. He was regularly washed and dressed in his seaman’s cap with the aid of an appointed seaman for such occasions.
Just Nuisance also used his bulk to break up late-night pub brawls and was known to escort intoxicated sailors back to their bunks, even if said sailors weren’t stationed in Simon’s Town.
Yet, Just Nuisance lived up to his name with his less-than-savoury exploits. His recorded offences include sleeping in the petty officer’s bed and refusing to be evicted from the Sailors’ and Soldiers’ Home in Simon’s Town. Being absent without leave, getting into scraps with the canine mascots of other ships and losing his collar comprised his other indiscretions.
Nevertheless, Just Nuisance was later promoted to “Able Seaman”, which entitled him to free rations.
GOODBYE, JUST NUISANCE
Although Just Nuisance never actually went to sea while on active service, he was beloved by his fellow sailors and the locals. His fame (or infamy) reached international shores, where he was revered as something of a wartime hero.
He even sired a litter of five puppies with his mate Adinda. Two of these pups were auctioned off to raise money for the wartime effort.
Alas, Just Nuisance’s naval career was cut short. A car accident left him suffering from thrombosis, which began to paralyse his body. He was discharged from the navy on 1 January 1944.
Exactly three months later, on his seventh birthday, Just Nuisance was euthanised at the Simon’s Town Naval Hospital. While his soul made its journey across the rainbow bridge, his body was buried the following day.
Placed within a canvas bag that was adorned with the ensign of the Royal Navy, Just Nuisance was laid to rest with full military honours at Klaver Camp atop Red Hill. He was honoured with a gun salute, while a bugler sounded the Last Post.
GONE, BUT NEVER FORGOTTEN
It’s been 81 years since his death, but Just Nuisance’s legacy continues to live on. Today, Capetonians speak his name, and detail his character and exploits, with warmth and fondness, as if he were still alive and train-hopping to his heart’s content.
So, when you go to Simon’s Town, you will find a bronze statue of Just Nuisance’s likeness in Jubilee Square, his keen eyes peering across the harbour.
Or, if you were ever to visit the South African Navy Signal School at Red Hill, you can pay your respects at his grave, overlooking the seaside town that embraced this Great Dane and continues to keep him in its heart.
