The Key (an essay by an ex-political prisoner)
The day I found myself in prison, I made the resolution to resist imprisonment, to continually endeavor to escape and to resist with all my strength the possible adverse effect of imprisonment.
The incident with making of a master key to the cells of Robben Island must have been my fifth attempt to escape.
Before turning to the idea of a key, Japhta Massernola and myself considered other means of escape. Cutting through the bars was impossible, since each prison bar had a thinner high grade steel bar mounted on ball bearings inside an outer bar which made it virtually cut proof. We first tired jacking the bars aside with a screw jack. This jack proved to be too weak. A hydraulic jack might have worked.
It was my job to observe the pattern of the key the wardens used. I noticed that the manufacturer of the lock was British, and concluded that the measurement will be in inches. The height, depth, and diameter of the ring at the top of the keyhole was carefully measured. A thirty-secondth of an inch was deducted from these measurements and the width, height, and the diameter of the barrel of the key was obtained. Bra Jeff was thus able to grind the basic blank key from these dimensions. He did this very expertly since the only grinding tools he had in his blacksmith shop in the quarry were a grinding wheel and a whetstone.
This basic key was brought in twice to get a good fit. Once this was complete the key came in with a small supply of fat. Late in the night Anthony Suze and myself lit the fat and the blank key was held in the smoke until well blackened. This blackened key was then carefully inserted into the lock, strongly twisted and slowly withdrawn. The first pattern of the key was formed onto the blackened blank and measured. The pattern was drawn on paper and taken to Bra Jeff. Bra Jeff then spent about two weeks grinding the first prototype of the key. The key was now brought back by Tony, expertly hidden in the search or tauza lines which all prisoners coming from the quarry must pass.
That night we once more put up our table next to the cell door pretending to study. Later when everybody was asleep we inserted the key into the lock. They key turned once lifting some tumblers. To unlock the door, the key must be turned twice and only a master key can do this. We now had a day key. Unfortunately we could not properly lock the cell door again. We spent that night desperately trying to re-lock our cell door. When morning came, the cell was still unlocked, and we saw the spectre of a period of starvation on spare diet in the solitary confinement cells which will inevitably follow discovery.
The day warder came and found the cell not properly locked. Instead of unlocking, he went straight to the head of the prison who came and inspected the lock and left. We were then let out and later that day we learnt that the night warder was charged for negligence.The key was now taken to Bra Jeff for further refinement.
After about eight days the key came back but with it came a radio, which was acquired somewhere, with instruction that I must try and make it work so that we can get some very badly sought after news from the outside world. Unfortunately, and not known to us, this radio was missed and a massive search was on. We were totally surprised when the warders burst into our cell with shouts “hands against the wall!”
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So close. And truly inspiring.
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So close. And truly inspiring.
