Big paws to fill: Who will succeed Skabenga, the former ‘Aristocat’ of the Oyster Box Hotel?

When a pope dies, the world waits for white smoke. When a king passes, the throne falls silent. And then, the speculation begins.

At the Oyster Box Hotel in Umhlanga, the same question is quietly circulating:Who will follow Skabenga?

The hotel is mum on the successor although rumour is that it is imminent.

The spirit of Skabenga, the former Lord of the Manor aka the great Duke, the Royal Cat of the Oyster Box, still presides from the moment guests pass through the hotel’s ancient doors.

His presence lingers in the corridors, the gardens, and most certainly at mealtimes. Yet for the first time in years, the throne is officially vacant.

Skabenga was, technically speaking, a common tabby cat. But there was nothing common about him, says Justin Botha, Director of Guest Experience at the Oyster Box. And Botha should know, as Skabenga’s bed was nestled under his desk.

Named for the isiZulu word meaning “hooligan” or “vagabond”, he somehow became royalty at one of the world’s most celebrated hotels.

He ruled not by force, but by timing, charm and an uncanny ability to appear exactly where smoked salmon or sushi might be involved, says Botha.

Adopted by the hotel as his kingdom, Skabenga attracted a following that extended far beyond Umhlanga. He inspired books, colouring-in editions, knitted teddy bears, fashionable collars and even his own tea blend - a good old fashioned Five Roses brew, his favourite.

Few monarchs can claim such merchandising success.

To honour him, renowned KwaZulu-Natal sculptor Sarah Richards was commissioned to create a life-size bronze statue, unveiled at a special high tea in his memory. It was a ceremony befitting a reign that spanned years and hearts.

“Skabenga set the standard,” says Botha. “He had presence. He had opinions. And he had a way of making guests feel special -or politely dismissed - depending on his mood. Whoever comes next has very big paws to fill.”

Skabenga lived well, perhaps a little too well. As age softened his waistline, staff were formally warned not to overfeed him with written warnings included.

Skabenga responded by quietly expanding his snack diplomacy. Weight loss later became its own concern, proving once again that ruling is not without its challenges.

He was nocturnal by nature, coming into his own between 11pm and 7am, bonding deeply with the night staff who knew which doors he preferred to scratch at until someone gave in, says Botha.

He loved little toys, tolerated fashionable collars and had limited patience for small children, a fact documented by more than one apology letter.

Romantic liaisons, including those of the feline variety, had to be carefully managed. Poolside appearances where bikini-clad beauties are plentiful, were frequent. Discretion was selective.

Skabenga passed away peacefully in his bed at home, at a ripe old age of 19, just three months after being gifted a beautiful new bed. His reign ended gently, but decisively.

And now, the hotel waits.

Will the Oyster Box adopt another street cat? Will the next ruler be bold or bashful, aloof or affectionate? A tabby again, or something entirely unexpected?

As with all successions, rumours abound, preferences are quietly debated, and expectations are high.

For now, there is no white smoke.Only the certainty that Skabenga’s reign - vagabond by name, royal by nature - has set the bar impossibly high.

The throne is vacant.
The kingdom watches.