When we last spoke to you, we were boasting about the Mussels which are more than plentiful in this area. We ate them with gusto —- until someone came up to us and asked if we had checked on the Red Tide situation.
Red Tide? Naaah, no problem – after all you can see it can’t you, and apart from that the water is obviously too cold to sustain it.
On the other hand …. maybe we should check, and off we went to the local Fisheries Protection Unit in Lamberts Bay, where they gave us a very fancy booklet on this so-called Red Tide (Full of horror stories, like The Shipmaster’s Medical Guide).
The first thing that we read was that in many instances it is fatal, the second was that it could remain in Black and White Mussels for up to 3 weeks, and the third interesting snippet of news was that it was rife on the West Coast in the Autumn months of March to May. We were also given a Red Tide hot line number, which every time we ring the Damn thing tells us that a Red Tide exists on the West Coast from Cape Point Northward. We rang the Sivrights who we had fed Mussels, to see if they had got home all right, which they had, but nevertheless we have given up on Mussels for the time being.
While we were in Lamberts Bay we learned about H.M.S. Sybille (sometimes Sybil). The H.M.S. S.’s claim to fame is that she was the only British Naval vessel to have seen action in the Boer War when she engaged a Boer commando on the beach north of Lamberts Bay. (The mind boggles, 4 inch armament against Martini Henries). The outcome of this epic battle was not recorded, but unfortunately shortly thereafter came the H.M.S. S.’s second claim to fame, when she ran ashore.
HMS Sybille
The local Museum has two versions of the saga.
Brit Version. After the battle, the Captain with some of his officers came ashore to Lamberts Bay to a party given in their honour by a local farmer. A sudden storm blew up, the First officer who remained on board with the crew, weighed anchor and put to sea, but, sadly, the force of the storm was too much for them and blew them ashore. A number of the crew ultimately received medals.
Local Version. No mention of the battle, but it was noted that the event took place during the Second War for Independence.
The Captain and some of his officers came ashore to a party. It seems that those remaining on board were peed off at being left out and so had their own party. As the shipboard party progressed some Jolly Jack thought it would be a great idea to joy ride around the Bay. Unfortunately, when they did so, the helmsman went left hand down instead of right hand down and — Oops – on the rocks.
Whilst all this was happening, so the report goes, the Captain had gone to sleep in somebody’s barn.
Intriguing to know what the official Admiralty version was.
In any event one of the dockyard engineers sent from Scotland to assist with the salvage, wooed a local farmer’s daughter and stayed on. So adding strength to the theory that Boerewors is akin to Haggis.
After Lamberts Bay we moved on up the coast to the village of Strandfontein. Strandfontein is a very pretty spot, a few kms North of the fishing and diamond harbour of Doring Bay, and just South of the Olifants River mouth. There is one Tea Room/Grocery store in the village which is also – of all things – a diamond wholesaler.
Diamond boats at Doring Bay
At Strandfontein we were invaded by ants. They were everywhere! We emptied the van, sprayed insecticide all over, and yet, within a few hours, they were back. Amazingly, as soon as we took to the road again, they disappeared. They must have jumped off as we were moving. Makes one think of those P.O.W. films where they escape from a moving train. Geronimo…… there goes another one.
Strandfontein
To go North from Strandfontein, one needs to head inland. We did this and decided to overnight in the town of Springbok. Springbok is in the Northern Cape, and here the scenery is semi desert and mountain passes through the Bokkeveldt Range. Awesome, particularly as the mountains were framed by dark storm clouds and spectacular forked lightning – very Mussorgsky. The town itself is pleasant enough and has a couple of caravan parks. We stayed at the Springbok Caravan Park. Very reasonable at R 35 even equipped with a swimming pool.
After Springbok, down through the mountain passes to the coastal plain and Port Nolloth. A very, very, unseasonably, hot Port Nolloth. We are camped at McDougall (see what we mean about Boerewors and Haggis?) Bay, and about 20 metres from the sea. The bay itself is sheltered from the open sea by a number of reefs and thick kelp, and the spot, apart from being rather costly, is very nice indeed.
Sunset at McDougall Bay. Our crayfishing spot in the background
As it was so hot for the first few days, Sean took 2 or 3 swims daily. Now here we have a small domestic dispute, – Jean says that two and a half seconds in the water does not constitute a swim – Sean says that, considering the fact that if the water temp was 1 degree lower, we could walk on it, two and a half seconds is an extremely long swim – in fact two and a half seconds longer than Jean’s swim. The argument goes on.
Port Nolloth was built at the end of the last century to serve the copper mines. Its status fluctuated with the price of copper and was on the way to being a ghost town until the discovery of coastal diamonds. It is not exactly a boom town at present, but serves the diamond and crayfish industry and also, at McDougall Bay, serves as a seaside resort to the farmers of the Northern Cape and the diamond workers from the diamond towns of Alexander Bay, and Oranjemund (just over the Namibian Border).
Easter here was quite lively – not as crowded as Tieties Bay, but crowded all the same. Boeremusiek and Braai fires all round us.
Some of the camp sites had to be seen to be believed. One crowd of farmers from Upington arrived with trailers bearing a full-size fridge and a full size wooden kitchen table, the other trailer we think was full of booze. Another lot had obviously raided the local Commando Q.M.’s store, not only were they all in military tents, but the shade was provided by a huge camouflage sheet capable of covering a battery of G 5s.
You may have noted that, up to now, we have been suspiciously quiet on the subject of Crayfish. No boasting of lavish meals of Crayfish fresh from the sea (Not that we’re given to boasting). Well, the simple reason is that, up to now, the little beasts have been extremely evasive.
In Saldanha Bay we had a ring net made up for us, fully anticipating that, by this time, we would have eaten our fill.
A ring net is a galvanised ring of about 70 cm in diameter attached to a conical length of netting and some 30 odd metres of line. The method of fishing is to place a net bag of suitably delicious rotten fish and week-old limpets attached to the ring. Hurl the whole lot into the water, wait for a few suicidal crayfish to settle down to the feast, and haul up ring, net, and crayfish. Couldn’t be easier! Furthermore we had seen it work when we went crayfishing with the Smiths last year. But would you think the swine would co-operate? Would they Hell!
Until now! Port Nolloth crayfish are far more amenable.
We now launch Misafi and chug out to the reef and kelp belt, about 250 m offshore. There we lift the motor and paddle into – and over – the kelp until we find a suitable hole. Lower away, wait for 10 minutes or so, and Hey Presto!
Well to be absolutely truthful, it’s not Hey Presto all the time, but we are catching, and eating, fresh crayfish at last, and it’s great fun – although sometimes a little eerie in the fog.
Tomorrow we head for a spot on the Orange River, close to Alexander Bay, called Brandkaros. Here we plan to spend a few days and explore the Richtersveld.
Not the HMS Sybille but an unfortunate diamond boat who made an error of judgement the day before