As far as I can tell, there was only one businessperson of colour who is mentioned in the various historical accounts. S J du Toit mentions him twice, but both mentions are records of memories of old residents of the town. The first memory comes from Philip Reginald van Dyk, born 1919, who was the son of the famous 'Skipper' van Dyk, one of the generation of expert 'captains' of fishing boats in the early 20th century. Philip was also known as 'Skipper', although he worked all his life as a hairdresser. In the interview with S J du Toit, he recalls simply: I remember old Dhia, the Indian hawker, who sold vegetables and fruit in a little, two-wheel cart with a canopy. The second mention is by Lukas Groenewald, born 1916, whose family lived in what is now the Fisherman's Cottage restaurant. He indicates that at one stage 'Dhia' had formal premises: In Main Street in front of (their house), my father let a room to an old Indian, who was a greengrocer. Previously, he sold vegetables on the Market Square in a small two-wheel cart. These references were where the case rested until a few years ago when three Indian men (two younger and one very old) spoke to Marinda Wilmans who was working in the Photographic Museum of the Old Harbour Trust. They claimed to be descendants of the Doolabh family and were in Hermanus to see where an ancestor had lived and worked. They referred to their ancestor as Goopal Doolabh. They provided Mrs Wilmans with a written account by Arthur Doolabh(Goopal's son) of his father's journey to Hermanus from Bombay and his ups and downs of business here. Subsequently, Mrs Wilmans investigated the history of the site Doolabh claimed to own and verified that Goopal Doolabh did buy the property from the Groenewald family and that the property was registered in his name from 1924 to 1928. In that year the property was purchased from Doolabh's Estate by Omar Ebrahim. Now, there was sufficient information to give credence to other accounts in the document the visitors gave to Mrs Wilmans. In 2017 I researched High Street in-depth and had several contacts with Mrs Magda Odendaal, whose family lived in High Street in the 1950s. Without any prompting from me, she identified a space where Broad Street is now and between High and Mitchell Streets as belonging to "Diya –Malay fruit vendor, wheeled a fruit barrow. He had a double plot." I believe that there is sufficient evidence to show that a person of Indian birth did run a small business in Hermanus in the early 20th century. Also, the written document the three visiting family members left with Mrs Wilmans can be accepted as an account of the life of the person concerned. It was written in Afrikaans and has been translated by Mrs Wilmans and lightly edited by myself. SKIN COLOUR: HERMANUSPIETERSFONTEIN By GOPAL DOOLABH I was born in 1854, in Bombay, India. My first employment was in the Bombay Docks, where I worked from 1872 to1874. That same year I travelled to Mauritius by ship and worked on the Mauritius Docks from 1874 to 1876. In 1876, we travelled by ship to Cape Town along with friends. During the voyage, a storm broke out, and the captain decided to nail us below deck. The ship rolled as if the storm had thrown it. We were anxious because we were nailed in. After the storm, the captain decided to release us. We were shocked and pleased. We arrived in Cape Town. My friends kept insisting that we should all remain in the Cape to start businesses, but I myself and one of my friends, Mr Baggas, decided to go and look for another place to start. We travelled by train to Sir Lowry's Pass Village, where we found a place. Mr Baggas opened a shop, but I wanted to look further and went on to find out about Hermanuspietersfontein. I got a place in Hawston and met a friendly white man who transported vegetables and fruit from Cape Town, for two cafes. He also took my fruit. Later, I got a place in Hermanus, in High Street. I made myself a carrying pole with two large baskets, and with it, I carried my fruit and vegetables from home to home. Opposite the Marine Hotel was a large store. The owner, Mr Boucher, and I became good friends. He had a small space available, and I asked him if I can use it. He said any time. But his white business friends were going to be dissatisfied, and he must first find out from the Municipality if it was legally possible. Three weeks later he told me I could have the space. I then organized my space properly and packed in my fruit and vegetables. It was the start of the holiday season when I opened my business there. A circus pitched its tents on an open piece of the field a short distance from my shop. Then I made a lot of money. I couldn't keep up with my supplies of fruit, vegetables and sweets. The circus departed, and then a merry-go-round set up in the same place and stayed until the holiday was finished. The farmers went back to their farms and then it was back to normal, but I kept on. Then Mr Boucher called me to say that he was sorry, but he had received bad news. The Municipality had decided that I, as an Indian (Moor), could not keep a store because the other shops and cafes were dissatisfied. I nearly fell to the ground. He said that he was terribly sorry, but I must know the nationalists were upset. I had to go back and live in Hawston, but, not long after, I saw there was a place for sale in High Street. I bought the place and was running a good business there, but I could not read or write. A white man was keeping my books. He ripped me off, and I became bankrupt. I bought a truck and a horse-drawn cart. I had nobody I could trust in the store. I was mostly travelling about on the horse-drawn cart with my fruit and vegetables, while two girls of Hawston served people in the store. White children came to buy sweets, a 'tiekie' (2, 5 cents) of the expensive sweets, but the girls just gave them a handful. When I caught them doing this, I fired the girls. All my children were born in that shop: three sons and a daughter. When the agents come to me to take stock, I said to Johnny, my bookkeeper, to take the truck and say that it is his. Later, when everything was finished, I asked Johnny where my truck is, and he asked what truck and said it was his truck, and he takes the truck. Then I have nothing. We then had to go back to Hawston, and I worked as a fisherman on the fishing boats. After a long time, I found a house in Hermanus and went back to stay there. We can follow the case for another generation, Gopal Doolabh died in 1928. His son, Arthur, died in 1947 when the family was once again living in Hawston. In the 1950s the family returned to Sir Lowry's Pass Village and passed out of Hermanus history.