Blog - Oystercatcher Trail

Acacia cyclops (rooikrans)

Kerry-Lynn Hawes — Thu, 06 Jun 2019 00:00:00 +0200

All along the Oystercatcher Trail you can spot the invasive Acacia cyclops or more commonly known as Rooikrans. Rooikrans was first mentioned in 1857 when it was brought in from Australia to be planted by the Cape flats to prevent sand from covering the road between Cape Town and Bellville.

The seed was then spread to other sites along the Cape coast for sand control as people began to develop closer to the oceans edge. Rooikrans has proven exceptionally well adapted to local conditions, thriving on the nutrient poor soils of the Cape and booming after the regular fires typical of fynbos landscapes. They are now invading, overshadowing and destroying indigenous vegetation. Annually rooikrans produce large quantities of seeds with succulent red seed stalks that are eaten by small rodents, baboons, pheasants, guinea-fowl, water-fowl, bulbuls and various types of doves and starlings. These animals along with man and his interferences help disperse the seeds over vast distances.

In South Africa the rooikrans has fewer natural enemies then in its original habitat which allows it to grow rapidly here and outcompete our natural plant species. Once the rooikrans has become established in a large area it is extremely difficult to eradicate. Control methods include pulling out the stems of young plants and fire however the fire must be slow and hot enough to kill all the seeds.

A newer and very successful method is the introduction of a multivoltine midge (Dasineura dielsi) from Australia. The midge induces galls on the ovary of its host, by inducing the gall it stops the flower from forming and hence drastically reduces the seeds produced. The midge has spread extremely rapidly and now colonizes virtually all mature rooikrans in the region. Extensive studies were undertaken prior to the release of the midge by biological control agents in South Africa and all indications are that Dasineura dielsi will be of no significance on any species other than Acacia cyclops but we will just have to wait and see after all the rooikrans has been colonized which plant will be next?

Stranded Seal Pup

Kerry-Lynn Hawes — Mon, 27 May 2019 00:00:00 +0200

On our new day two of the Oystercatcher Trail, a circular route starting and ending in Boggomsbaai, we were walking along the fossilised sand structures on Boggomsbaai beach due to the high tide when one of the hikers along with his son stumbled upon a cape fur seal pup! The pup was so well camouflaged against the sand coloured structure that he was hidden in plain sight. The pup we could tell would be around 5 to 6 months old as pregnant female seals give birth around November/December time. The pup did not look too well but quickly made its way back to the shallow water of the incoming tide to escape the onlooking hikers. We gave him space and watched from a far looking for any open wounds to report, however he seemed to be in good physical condition so we assumed he was maybe suffering from exhaustion as many seal pups do. When a pup is born the mother will remain with her offspring for the first 7-10 days, nursing it on a diet of high fat content milk. After this initial stage she will begin a cycle of spending 3-4 days out at sea foraging before returning to her pup (which she can locate out of thousands by its smell) to spend 2-3 days nursing. Females will nurse their pups for 8-10 months. Cape fur seal pups only enter the water for the first time at around three months of age, during this time many can become thin and weak due to the new physical activity. Pups can become separated from their colonies by fatigue when swimming, being washed off their rocky island home and swept ashore by rough seas or by trying to escape predators. As wild animals and part of the natural cycle of life, it is inevitable that some of these youngsters will not make it to adulthood. Unfortunately we are not authorised to intervene with any marine wildlife unless there are any physical wounds or it is a species that does not occur in the area and is stranded but even then we have a ‘look don’t touch policy’ and contact the relevant people who are trained in marine care. It pulls on the heart strings a bit when we come across a situation like this but I take it as an opportunity to educate my hikers on how everything plays a role in the ecosystem and this seal pup might provide nourishment to another species that needs it more. So if you ever come across a stranded marine species remember to look and not touch, marine animals can become aggressive when in distress. Rather asses the situation, look for open wounds etc. and then contact the relevant personal.

Stranded Marine and Animal Rescue Team - S.M.A.R.T - 072 227 4715.

Fun facts about the Cape Fur Seal

Cape Fur Seals can hold their breath for over 10 minutes and can dive to a depth of around 400m.
Though clumsy on land, they are exceptionally graceful in water and are strong swimmers.
The population size is estimated to be 1.5 – 2 million, with about 2/3 of this being in Namibia.
Adult males weigh between 200 and 360 kg while adult females weigh 35 – 110kg. Pups are born measuring weighing 5 – 6 kg.
Cape Fur Seals can live up to 25 years of age.
Their main natural predators are great white sharks and orcas and unnatural predators are boat trawlers.

Written by Kerry-Lynn Hawes

Happy Hiker - Encountering whales

Kerry-Lynn Hawes — Mon, 13 May 2019 00:00:00 +0200

Winter is a wonderful time to hike the Oystercatcher trail, not only does the cooler weather provide a shield from the heat of the sun but during this time is actually whale season! Whales that are most commonly seen on the hike are the Humpback, Southern Right, and Bryde’s whales.

The Southern Right Whale is the biggest of these three whale species with adults being able to reach a weight of 80 tons and a length of 11 to 18m. The easiest way to identify this whale from the other two species is its lack of a dorsal fin. These whales got their name in the days of whale hunting due to their tendency to float when dead making them the “right” whales to kill. These whales have rough calcified skin patches around their head called callosities. The callosities themselves are grey, living on the callosities are large colonies of whale lice, whale barnacles and parasitic worms that give a whiter appearance. Callosities form a unique pattern on every right whale making it a very useful tool for the purposes of photo-identification and conservation. Rights are found in the waters of the Southern Hemisphere. During the summer months, they are found in the open waters, where they are able to feed far more abundantly. In the winter and spring, they approach the coasts of South Africa, Australia and South America to calve. Females will typically produce a calf every three years, during the calving season, a female will go around four months without feeding, surviving off the rich reserves of her blubber. Cows give birth to a single calf, which they nurse in the shallow waters of the coastline until the baby is large and strong enough to survive the open waters and the predators found there. Weaning takes place when the calf is around 12 months old. The Southern Right reaches sexual maturity at about 10 years of age and has a life expectancy of 50 to 60 years.

The second biggest whale of these three species is the Humpback Whale, with adults reaching a weight of 40 tons and a length of 11 to 15m. They can easily be identified by their underlying white pectoral fins and bellies. They are found in every ocean in the world at different times of the year. They can live in the ice-packed waters of the arctic, or the warm waters of the Indian Ocean. Their Latin name, Megaptera novaeangliae, means "big wing of New England." It refers to their giant pectoral fins, which can grow up to 5m long, and their presence off the coast of New England, where European whalers first encountered them. They have a small hump in front of their dorsal fin, which brought about their common name of the "humpback" whale. These whales often travel alone, but may be part of pods of between 3 and 15 other Humpbacks. Males might become aggressive with one another, and are often the cause of scarring on the bodies of other males. The Humpback Whale is known for their beautiful songs. The songs are made up by a series of cries, howls, squeaks and moans, which can carry on for hours and travel long distances in the water. It is believed to be an essential method of communication amongst and between whales, and plays an important role in attracting potential mates. The Humpback Whale has a gestation period of around 11 months. The calf will be dependent on its mother for the first year of its life, swimming alongside her, and often sharing touches with her as a sign of affection. The whale reaches sexual maturity at around five years old. Each female will give birth once every two or three years. This whale is believed to have a lifespan of about 48 years.

Lastly the Bryde’s Whale the smallest of the three with adults only reaching 20 tons and a length of 11.5 to 14.5m. The Bryde’s Whale is found off the shores of Western Australia, Fiji, South Africa, Japan and Sri Lanka. Interestingly, there appears to be two different kinds of Bryde’s Whales. One inhabits the offshore waters and migrates to some extent, while the other stays inshore (where it is shallower and warmer) throughout the year and seasons. In subtropical waters, the Bryde’s Whale is likely to breed only once a year while those in the warmer waters can breed all year round. Bryde's Whale females nurse their calves for 6 months, with no paternal influence. At the end of the weaning period, the mother leaves the calf to fend for itself which is a different parental technique to the other two whale species. The calf reaches sexual maturity between 8 and 11 years old. The Bryde’s Whales can lift their entire body out of the water in an acrobatic display of power when they breach and has a life expectancy of 50 years.

So what are you waiting for book now while the Happy Hiker promotion is on and don’t forget to pack your binoculars!

- Written by Kerry-Lynn Hawes

Walking Festival: Oystercatcher Trail

Kerry-Lynn Hawes — Thu, 25 Apr 2019 00:00:00 +0200

Over the Easter weekend the Hi-Tec Garden Route Walking Festival took place and we were honored to be a part of it. There were over 52 different hikes to choose from over the four days all along the Garden Route. Majority of the hikes were free to join (like ours) but it was encouraged that the participants make a donation to one of the non-profit nature charities working in the Garden Route who help protect and conserve our beautiful region.

On April 22nd is when our hike commenced, an 18.5km circular route that began in Boggomsbaai. Hikers walked a 4km stretch of beach until we passed the neighbouring vacation town of Vleesbaai, where along the way we did a beach clean-up, one of two for that day. We proceeded along a peninsular of rocks and boulders until Fransmanhoek where we had our self-packed lunches with some dolphin views! Fransmanshoek is named after a French war ship ‘La Fortune’ that wrecked in 1763 leaving 400 French soldiers stranded. They had to trek back to Cape Town but some stopped halfway settling in Swellendam. After lunch we did our last stretch walking through a hillside path, up onto sand dunes, back over the peninsular, through the town of Vleesbaai and back onto the beach heading back towards Boggoms.

We had an amazing group of people ranging from ages 4 to 66 that we got to share this day with educating them on the history of the area as well as the environment that we walked in.

The Hi-Tec Garden Route Walking Festival is an amazing initiative to get people out and about in nature learning about conservation and creating a love affair with nature particularly in the Garden Route which is such a beautiful part of our country. Remember to look out next year for this amazing opportunity to immerse yourself in nature you do not want to miss out!

Plough Snails

Kerry-Lynn Hawes — Mon, 15 Apr 2019 00:00:00 +0200

The days we hike along the sandy beaches we come across the famous Plough Snail, at first glance this organism may not seem of too much importance but actually plays a major role in the sandy beach and surf zone ecosystem. They have been nicknamed the “beach cleaners” because that is exactly what they do, rid the beaches of carrion. They search for jellyfish, bluebottles and other animals that have been cast ashore and quickly congregate into a feeding frenzy. They are completely blind and rely upon their keen sense of smell to detect carrion. Plough Snails feed by liquefying flesh and sucking it down a proboscis (trunk) towards the radula. When the tide starts to rise, the snail emerges from the sand, spreads its large "foot" like a sail, and surfs up the beach in response to the smell of carrion. The large foot is also used to burrow into the sand when the tide recedes to prevent being washed away by the waves. As soon as the water level drops the snail re-emerges and heads up the beach to the high tide mark. This species is extremely slow growing and only reaches a maximum size of 5.5cm. They grow quite rapidly in the first year, reaching 1cm in size, but it takes 10 years to get to 4cm.

It is always exciting to see these animals and even better so to see them in action as it gives me the chance to show our hikers and explain to them the important role they play. So remember small organisms have big jobs to do too!

Goose Barnacles

Kerry-Lynn Hawes — Fri, 15 Mar 2019 00:00:00 +0200

On one of our latest hikes we stumbled upon a fascinating sight. Washed ashore on a section of beach between Danabaai and Boggomsbaai was a buoy with a rope. This simple object was providing a home for thousands of goose barnacles. Goose barnacles will attach themselves to floating objects by a long fleshy stalk. They are filter feeding crustaceans, normally seen in dense colonies on ships or floating driftwood. The name goose barnacle comes from medieval times, it was thought the goose barnacle was the larval stage of the barnacle goose (a species a bird) as no-one had ever seen a barnacle goose nesting or an egg being laid. This was before we knew that birds migrate (Barnacle geese nest in the Arctic). The heart- shaped shell was believed to resemble the head of the barnacle goose.

When we moved the rope around out scurried two Columbus’ crabs which can normally be found amongst goose barnacles as they are not strong swimmers and will also make use of floating objects in the ocean, sometimes even turtles! One was the unmistakable blue colour while the other was a deep red brown. It is named the Columbus crab as it was apparently first noticed by Columbus while he was on a voyage to the West Indies.

The last and most interesting find that almost went unnoticed were the many scaleworms found amongst the goose barnacles. They are a group of widely distributed free-moving, segmented marine worms that have dorsal scales and range in size from 0.5 to 25 cm. There are over 58 species of scaleworms in South Africa. They are commonly found in rocky-shore pools, rock crevices, beneath boulders and are carnivorous.

It was a shame that the tide had washed up all these creatures however it gave us the opportunity to look and learn and with the incoming high tide hopefully this floating home would be taken out to sea again where these animals belong. So the next time you are walking along the beach and find some washed up trash take a closer look, there might be a mini marine ecosystem living inside!

Spider and Wasp

Mon, 11 Feb 2019 00:00:00 +0200

Outside the Sandpiper Leisure Center, home of the Oystercatcher Trail, a pompilid or spider wasp as it is more commonly known captured and paralyzed a rain spider. This behavior of hunting and killing spiders often larger than themselves provides food for their larvae. A female wasp searches the ground and tree trunks for a spider, the prey must be large enough to serve as food for the larvae’s entire development. Once a prey is located she will give a paralyzing sting. She will then carry the spider into a burrow she has constructed herself or use the spiders own burrow or tunnel. Once safely in the burrow she will lay a single egg in the abdomen of the spider and close the entrance to the burrow. The size of the spider will determine whether the egg will develop into a male or female wasp. Larger spiders will be host to future female wasps while smaller ones to males. When the egg hatches the larvae feeds on the spider breaking through with its mandibles.
Adult spider wasps are nectar-feeding on a variety of plants and only kill spiders for the purpose of egg laying. These wasps are solitary, nesting in crevices or burrows. They are easy to identify being mostly black with orange, red, yellow or white markings (depending on the specie) which help deter predators from eating them.
So the next time you see a scary looking long-legged wasp running around on the ground look carefully it may be spider hunting!

Encountering Black Oystercatchers

Kerry-Lynn Hawes — Wed, 30 Jan 2019 00:00:00 +0200

On day 2 of the Oystercatcher trail we hiked a 12km coastline between Danabaai and Boggomsbaai. It is a less demanding hike then the previous days mountainous terrain. We often come across bluebottles (Portuguese man of war), jellyfish, plough snails and different seabirds and discuss the role these species play in the environment that they inhabit. On this particular day we came across a pair of African black oystercatchers. What was so unique about this encounter was that the pair had obviously nested nearby and were protecting it by flying close towards us and vocalizing in a sharp alarming tone to deter us from their eggs or chicks. We were respectful of the birds behavior and did not linger as to aggravate them more. However, they followed us for about 100m before they realized we were not a threat and retreated back to their home territory. It was an amazing experience to see these birds display this behavior over such a long distance but it brings up the question why did these birds feel the need to protect their nest from us for such a great distance? Had they been disturbed already that day by other people passing or preying birds? Or are they new parents who had a powerful urge to defend what they had so proudly accomplished?

Fun facts about the oystercatcher

Oystercatchers are monogamous meaning they mate for life.

They make their nests, a simple scraping in the sand, above the high-water mark.

They actually don’t eat oysters! They mostly eat mussels, limpets and mussel worms.

For a long time, these birds were threatened but due to conservation efforts they are now listed as near threatened.

The total population is estimated at 5000-6000 individuals with roughly half in South Africa and half in Namibia.

Must-Visit Places Along the Oystercatcher Trail - Cassandra Dodd

Mon, 20 Aug 2018 00:00:00 +0200

The late Miriam Makeba once said: “Africa has her mysteries, and even a wise man cannot understand them. But a wise man respects them”. The coastline of South Africa, and the Garden Route, in particular, boasts a natural beauty unlike any you have ever seen. It has been estimated that visitation to the area increased by 14% between 2015 and 2016 with an exceptionally busy festive season being predicted for this year. One of the countless world-class attractions on the route is the Oystercatcher Trail, which stretches between the St. Blaize Cave and the Gourits River. The trail passes through a number of destinations of which the following three are undoubtedly worth a mention.

Boggoms Bay

The picturesque Boggoms Bay is situated a mere 26 km from Mossel Bay and offers visitors an entire kilometer long untouched, striking beach. The beach is not only immensely popular with anglers but with hikers as well, which is precisely why it has been incorporated into the ever-popular Oystercatcher Trail. If you want to cool down after a long walk on a balmy, summer’s day, you can bath at one of two designated swimming areas that are open year-round. Due to the fact that Boggoms Bay forms part of the Garden Route conservation area, there are no shops in the immediate area, necessitating hikers to stop for supplies and refreshments in town or even pack a picnic basket for an idyllic picnic amongst the dunes. The South African sun can be relentless so remember to lather on the sunscreen, even in winter and don’t forget to bring along your binoculars and camera. Boggoms Bay is known to be home to an impressive variety of plant, bird and animal life and if you are lucky you may even see dolphins and whales frolicking in the surf.

Vleesbaai

Long before European explorers discovered Vleesbaai, the area was occupied by the native Khoi people. Today, most of the original Khoi have been relocated and Vleesbaai has become known as a seaside vacation town. The southern side of Vleesbaai is protected by the Fransmanshoek Peninsula which effectively shelters the bay from open-sea currents which makes for very popular swimming conditions. The beaches are popular among hikers, both local and those visiting from abroad, with those participating in the Oystercatcher Hiking Trail making their way through the town on the fourth day of their excursion. Wildlife is in abundance here with Oystercatcher birds with their bright red beaks being a common sight on the rocks and amongst the dunes. Marine animals also frequent the bay with dolphins, in particular, enjoying the occasional romp close to shore. If you are a 4x4 enthusiast you will be happy to learn that the sand dunes between Vleesbaai and Kanon are a popular 4x4 route, offering 12km of thrilling driving with a beautiful view.

Pinnacle Point

When passing through Pinnacle Point you will feel yourself being enveloped by the historical significance of the area. The archaeological sites at Pinnacle Point have revealed some of the first evidence of modern human behavior and have been declared a Provincial Heritage Site with good reason. Pinnacle Point also boasts a breathtaking beach that is completely secluded and sheltered from the wind. The area abounds with vegetation, smaller animals, and birdlife and is a hotspot for ardent photographers wanting to capture the untouched beauty of the Garden Route. The outstretched sandy beaches are ideal for hiking and also make for an ideal playground for the children. If you want to enjoy a round of golf you can visit the nearby Pinnacle Point Golf Estate or, instead, enjoy some open sea fishing while the rest of the family explores the countless rock pools that are brimming with interesting marine life.

Enhance your Oystercatcher experience

Apart from your regular hiking kit which includes your sun hat, water bottle, and hiking boots you can enhance you Oystercatcher Trail experience by investing in a number of additional helpful items that will make your hike even more enjoyable. If you are exploring the area on your own, a map, compass or GPS device might be a good idea to help prevent you from getting lost while a first aid kit designed for the outdoors always comes in handy when needing to treat minor injuries and ailments. Always carry a lightweight yet weatherproof jacket with you as the South African weather is known to change at the drop of the hat, resulting in a seemingly sunny day turning cold and gloomy almost instantaneously.

With all the exquisite natural beauty of the area, it is simply impossible to not be left in complete awe while visiting the Oystercatcher Trails. Regardless of which trail you opt for, you are bound to experience the experience the untouched splendor of the Garden Route at its best – the way Mother Nature intended it to be.

Safarious Blog - Sue Segar

Mon, 28 May 2018 00:00:00 +0200

Safarious Blog

Oyster Catcher multi-day trail run 2016

Sat, 15 Oct 2016 00:00:00 +0200

Footage via Trisport

The fish traps of Kanon

Tue, 09 Aug 2016 00:00:00 +0200

The kind of fish trap (‘vywer’ in Afrikaans) that you'll find along our coast is built to a very precise design, which probably evolved from observations of the behaviour of fishes trapped in natural pools left behind by the receding tide.

The seaward side of the trap wall slopes gently away so that the structure is able to withstand the pounding of the waves; the landward side is kept vertical so that the trapped fishes can’t swim over them; and the rocks are dry-packed to allow the pond to drain slowly - which allows the operator of the trap time to grab by hand the fish caught behind the wall when the tide runs out.

No one really knows the age of the stone fish traps of the Southern Cape (at places like Kanon, but also - and probably more famously - at Stilbaai), but most sources seem to agree that, because of changing sea levels, the oldest ones couldn’t have been built more than 2,000 or 3,000 years ago.

Who built them?

You have to be very careful answering this question, because a number of the terms used to describe the early inhabitants of the Cape - particularly ‘strandloper’ and ‘khoisan’ (as in ‘khoi-san fish traps’) - have recently been shown to be misleading, and sometimes even derogatory.

Strandloper - beach-walker - is considered misleading, because it describes people who spent only a part of their time on the beaches, but whose diet in fact included animals as well plants from inland; while ‘san’ - possibly from the French ‘sans’ - is considered derogatory because it was given by the early settlers to hunter-gatherers who didn’t herd cattle at a time when owning cattle was the measure of wealth among the more powerful peoples of the area.

So let’s just say that they were built by ancient people who knew a thing or two about survival!

Preservation & conservation

Because of the fact that they’re of necessity built in the intertidal zone, the preservation and conservation of these ancient structures present a number of unique problems.

According to the Hessequa Society of Archaeology (Hessequa is the district municipality to the west of the Gourits River - and thus our immediate neighbours), “When the first white colonists arrived in the late 1700s and early 1800s, the indigenous Khoekhoen were still working the fish traps, and the new settlers quickly adopted their ingenious techniques. Later operation of the fish traps required a permit from the local magistrate.”

Ironically, the 23 fish traps at Stilbaai’s Noorkappers Point were previously maintained by the local farmers and fishermen, who gave each one, “its own folk name, such as Elmboog (Elbow) and Krom Knie (Crooked knee).” But the locals haven’t been able to do this since Noorkappers Point was included in the restricted zone of the local Marine Protected Area when it was declared in 2008, and the Society now believes “that it is of the utmost importance that a solution is found that will allow these fish traps at Noorkappers Point to continue to be preserved as an example of the oldest working technology in Southern Africa.”

... Sadly, too, the fish traps at Kanon have also fallen into similar disrepair - but we’ve made it a priority to find out which organisations should be caring for them so that we can pressure them into preserving them from slipping slowly back in to the sea.

Watch this space!

Google Maps

Breyten Breytenbach: Vir Fred Orban en Kleinbos

Mon, 11 Jul 2016 00:00:00 +0200

Vir Fred Orban en Kleinbos

jy skryf winter kom vroeg vanjaar

proe-proe aan die lug soos 'n koue gedagte

vroetel-voel aan die see en woel

die branders om : binnekort

is die hele kontrei `n seisoen donkerte

wat beteken dat walvisse eersdags

hulle gladde skaduwee-lywe voorlangs

in die water sal kom karbonkel

en inkvlekke laat in die diep papier i

n jou huis op die duin sal jy viool speel

met jou vingers vaart-vat oor die huilsnare

sodat die glydiere geil mag boog

die nagwind teen die ruite is soutgrys maanstof,

oordags word die glans van die see geskil

vandag in 'n tuin onder bloeiende kersiebome

van 'n vreemde land se hoofstad

waar so baie verstarde drome van mag

gevurk gaan op rydiere gegiet in brons

het ek die wynglas van die hart geklink

met 'n mede uitgewekene

Soos 'n belydenis het ons gemymer oor die winter

van ons geboorte terwyl donker soogdiere in my ou-kop se water

spuit en plons

ek skryf vir jou hierdie bloeisel van verlange

miskien kan jy dit as groet aan die walvisse

oorvertel op jou wildeviool.

Breyten Breytenbach

(Washington, Junie, 1996)

Ook onder die titel ‘Vroeg Winterbrief : aan Fred’ gepubliseer

The African black oystercatcher

Mon, 11 Jul 2016 00:00:00 +0200

The research suggests that only about 6,700 African black oystercatchers survive in the world today - although the experts seem a little unsure about their conservation status.

According to L.G. Underhill, “The African Black Oystercatcher Haematopus moquini occurs in southern Africa, breeding exclusively in Namibia and South Africa. The non-breeding range extends into Angola and Mozambique. The population size in the early 2000s is estimated to be 6,670 birds, an increase of 46% since the early 1980s, and continues to increase. The breeding range is expanding eastwards, into KwaZulu-Natal. The increase in population size is attributed to the invasion of the southern African shoreline by the Mediterranean Mussel Mytilus galloprovincialis, better conservation management of the offshore islands and a ban on off-road vehicles driving on beaches in South Africa.” (Underhill, L.G. 2014. Assessment of the conservation status of African Black Oystercatcher Haematopus moquini. International Wader Studies 20: 97–108.)

But birdlife.org says that “This species is listed as Near Threatened owing to its small population and hence almost qualifies for Vulnerable under criterion C1. The current population trend is unknown, but if the species is found to be in decline it might qualify for a higher threatened category.”

So why should oystercatchers be conserved?

The African Black Oystercatcher is one of the rarest oystercatchers in the world. (The rarest - and one of the rarest wading birds of all - is New Zealand’s Chatham Island Oystercatcher, Haematopus chathamensis, of which only between 310 and 325 individuals survive, although conservation has seen the population grow from about 140 to 150 individuals in 1998.)

Oystercatchers are incredibly sensitive to any disturbances in their environment - so their presence or absence can be used as a barometer of an area’s general state of health. Conserving the oystercatcher thus benefits the coastal environment as a whole.

Lifestyles of the rich and famous

The African black oystercatcher was first described to science in the mid 1800s by Bonaparte, who named it Haematopus moquini after the director of the botanical gardens in Toulouse, France - one Horace Benedict Alfred Moquin Tandon.

They’re usually found in pairs or small groups on sandy or rocky shores, and sometimes also on estuaries (they’re quite common on the Knysna Estuary). They feed mainly on mussels and limpets, but will also take whelks, small crustaceans, and various worms.

Oystercatchers nest in summer on rocky or sandy beaches, often near the high water mark, and lay one or two eggs in a shallow scrape - they don’t make proper nests, but they do try to lay their eggs in camouflaged positions or in a raised place where they can see approaching predators.

Unlike the juveniles of birds such as the plovers, young oystercatchers aren’t able to feed themselves when they hatch, and need to be fed by their parents until well after fledging.

In order to maintain the population size, each breeding pair would need to raise only one chick every three years. Under the present circumstances - especially on mainland beaches and rocky shores - this target may be difficult to attain.

Oystercatchers are territorial and faithful to their mates, and some pairs have been recorded as using the same nesting sites for up to 20 years.

Threats to the Oystercatcher’s breeding success

Because they nest in areas that are popular with man - and in summer when the beaches are most popular - the young are often greatly at risk.

Many human activities contribute to this. Beach-goers walking their dogs, anglers, drivers of 4X4s (although this is illegal now on South African beaches), and coastal development all contribute to the high mortality rate.

The question of 4x4s on the beaches often raises the ire of the owners of these vehicles - but In his 1997 article, ‘African Black Oystercatcher - Between the Tides,’ the late Phil Hockey wrote that ‘there is an interesting and alarming correlation between a decrease in the breeding success of oystercatchers and an increase in the sales of 4X4 vehicles in South Africa.” (Africa Birds and Birding Volume 2 Number 5; Black Eagle Publishing, Cape Town )

When an oystercatcher is disturbed, it may abandon its nest long enough for the eggs or chicks to die in the heat of the sun, or to be preyed upon by other birds (particularly by kelp gulls). The eggs and chicks are easily crushed by vehicles on the beach, and the helpless chick is no match for curious and uncontrolled dogs.

Research

The Percy FitzPatrick Institute of African Ornithology at the University of Cape Town includes the African black oystercatcher in two of its long-term research programmes:

Oystercatcher conservation

As the Oystercatcher Trail, we’re completely committed to the conservation of both oystercatchers and their coastal environment.

Walk with us, and you’ll agree - it’s a cause that’s well worth pursuing.

Video

This great short doccie was shot on the West Coast (Grotto Bay Coastal Nature Reserve)- but it's worth watching for those of us on the South Coast, too!

The cannons of Fransmanshoek

Thu, 09 Jun 2016 00:00:00 +0200

Fransmanshoek - one of the capes we visit on our Oystercatcher Trail - gets is name from the wreck of the French man o’ war, La Fortune, which sank here on the 11th of September 1763 during a voyage from the East, via Réunion to France.

She’d anchored just offshore to load fresh water from the spring - which still runs today - but an easterly gale drove her onto the rocks, and she couldn’t be saved.

Fortunately, all 441 of the soldiers and sailors onboard made it safely to shore, and all of them made it safely to Cape Town, too - although they had to walk, of course. (And they didn’t even have the benefit of a vehicle to transport their luggage from guest house to guest house like our Oystercatcher Trailers do today...)

Although the record in the Cape Archives (Verbatim Copies: VC29) shows that all the valuables on board were removed at the time, this isn’t quite true, because the ship went down with 56 cannons - which might not have meant much to the people of the day, but which mean a lot to us in the 21st Century.

Only four of the cannons have been found, though (two in the 1930s, one in the 1960s, and one in 2011) - and three of them remain preserved in the nearby village of Kanon (guess where the name comes from?), which forms part of the Fransmanshoek Conservancy, and through which we pass on our Trails.

The family Fourie

The Oystercatcher Trail’s Fred Orban was involved in the recovery of that last cannon, so we’ll let him take up the story:

“The cannon was first exposed on the beach during an exceptionally low spring tide in April, and then appeared again during another low tide in August. But because of its archaeological value, we couldn’t just lift it and carry it away - we had to have permission from SAHRA (the South African Heritage Resources Agency) and others.

“So Amanda Human of the Dias Museum in Mossel Bay helped us with all the formalities, and eventually we were able to legally lift it out of the sea, and move it to one of the nearby farms for cleaning and preservation,” he said.

“But there was an interesting coincidence here, because it was first spotted by a Fransmanshoek local named Louis Fourie - whose grandfather (also Louis) found the third cannon in 1960!”

Breyten Breytenbach

Fred said that the poet Breyten Breytenbach holds a special place in his heart for Fransmanshoek and the Boggomsbaai area.

“He convinced the French Consulate in Cape Town to donate money for a plaque to commemorate the wreck of La Fortune, which was erected on the stone information building at Fransmanshoek during a ceremony attended by consular staff and representatives from the area.

“This is also where Oystercatcher Trailers enjoy lunch on the 3rd day of their walk - and where the 4th cannon now rests, still under restoration and preservation after having spent 250 years under the waves,” said Fred.

There’s more information about the many fascinating shipwrecks of Mossel Bay in the documents below - and your guide will probably tell you the stories of at least some of them when you walk with us on the Oystercatcher Trail.
Header image courtesy Dirk and Brenda Human

List of the shipwrecks of Mossel Bay

Map of the shipwrecks of Mossel Bay

A guide named Bell

Thu, 09 Jun 2016 00:00:00 +0200

I saw the Flying Dutchman at Kanon on the last night of our hike.

The mist had been hanging in the air all day, wintery thin, and it had deepened with the coming of the night, and after supper in our guest house - this was, after all, a luxury trail, with us walking from point to point while our luggage was delivered by road - I was sitting on the patio, listening to the waves and watching the fire, when the lights failed. I wasn’t too worried about them, though: everyone else had gone to bed and I thought I’d look for the fuse box when I was ready to go up to my room.

But I became aware that I wasn’t alone: a large, sandy-haired man had come up onto the patio, and he nodded at me.

“Evening,” he said. “I’m Bell. You must be one of the Travel Africa group.”

I nodded and gave him my name, but he seemed disinclined to shake, so I didn’t offer my hand.

“Mind if I sit?” he said. “I’m one of the guides, but I’m off duty.”

“Go ahead,” I said.

There’s only one house on the point at Kanon, so he must have walked from the village about half an hour down the beach. It’s a lonely part of the world, often windswept, rocky, with low-growing fynbos and very few trees.

We sat in the dark and the silence for some while, as you do, and I fed logs onto the flames, and we made small talk. “Where are you from? Where did you study? Oh really, did you know so-and-so?” but we soon ran out of things to say to one another, and it was during one of the long lulls in our conversation that I caught sight of a red glow out to sea. At first I thought it was a trick of my eyes, but when Bell shivered violently and drew his breath deeply, I knew he’d seen it, too.

Then our fire lost its heat and I became afraid.

“Nothing he can do to us here on shore,” said Bell.

“Who?”

“The Flying Dutchman,” he said. “Hendrik van der Decken.

“Watch.”

And as I did, the vague shape of an old sailing ship appeared like smoke against the glow, and then it darkened - as if it was going to materialise - and then it disappeared, and a moment later, so did the glow.

“You’ve seen it before?” I asked.

“A few times,” said Bell. “He seems to like this spot.

“You know the story: the ship that’s cursed to try and round the Cape till Judgment Day,” he said. “And her master, van der Decken, who can never come ashore. That’s why I say we’re quite safe here

“I’ve heard it, of course, but I’m an atheist,” I said.

“Which means?”

“There is no spirit world.”

“But you just saw it.”

“Ha, ha! That was just some trick of the light. Probably some kind of lightning associated with the mist. A fireball or something.”

But Bell just shook his head. “You’re wrong,” he said. “I’ve spoken to van der Decken.”

Bell was a huge man, a real guide’s guide, and I couldn’t imagine that he’d ever messed with drugs or anything, but I couldn’t help asking what he was taking, anyway.

He laughed. “Oh, it was nothing like that,” he said. “It was a genuine conversation. He wanted me to pass a message on to someone at the Witsand Botel.”

“I’ve never been to Witsand,” I said. “Didn’t know it had a Botel.”

“Oh, it does,” he said. “But I’ve never been there, either.”

“So how did you deliver the message?”

“I haven’t,” he said. “And I think that van der Decken knows that, and that’s why he shows himself on nights like tonight.”

I suggested that van der Decken must have been to Witsand if he knew about the hotel.

“I wonder if it’s the same place,” said Bell. “Old Hendrick’s been sailing this coast for more than four hundred years now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know, there are many versions of the story of the Flying Dutchman. In some, van der Decken and his men are allowed off their ship once every seven years for a day or two so that they can look for wives for themselves, and if they find them, and if they’re faithful, they’ll find salvation, and then they can finally lie down and rest.

“But that’s just nonsense, because the Flying Dutchman can never come ashore.”

I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation: it wasn’t that we were talking myths and fables. It seemed like Bell was convinced that what he was saying was true and real.

Still, I decided to humour him.

“So how did you meet this van der Decken?”

“At sea, of course. I was the youngest member of the crew on a yacht on a cruise from Cape Town to Durban and I had the watch. It was the middle of the night and the sea was calm but everything was misty, much like tonight. The swell was gentle and the boat was rocking along almost on its own, so it was very difficult to stay awake.

“Just as I was about to doze off, I heard music. I jumped up and ran down the companionway and put my head inside the cabin, but the others were all asleep and there was no way that any of them was playing a trick on me.

“The music could only be coming from another vessel.

“I didn’t know what to do. I had all the running lights on, and there was really no way of making the boat any more visible than it was - I didn’t want the other vessel to run us down, you see. But the music didn’t get any closer or further away. It was as if the other boat was holding a course with ours.

“How did it sound?” I asked.

“I couldn’t put my finger on it,” said Bell. “It certainly wasn’t modern, and it wasn’t very loud. I suppose it sounded like those old pennywhistles they used to play in the townships in the fifties. You know the ones?”

I did.

“But the music was much older than that, and it had a quick, catchy beat. I realised after a while that someone was drumming softly, too, although it could have just been the sound of a foot tapping time on a deck.

“Just like tonight, I was suddenly aware that the air had become much colder, and soon I began to think I could see a red glow over the water.

“Whatever it was, yacht or ocean liner, I was sure she was going to hit us amidships, but before I had a chance to warn the crew, the fog began to clear and I realised we were running alongside an ancient square rigger.”

At this I started to laugh. “C’mon Bell, surely you don’t expect...”

“You can believe what you like,” he said. “I know what I saw.

“It was lit up with a strange red glow, just like tonight, but it was far closer to us - no more than 30 metres to starboard - and I began to realise that it stank of old seaweed and rotten fish. But it wasn’t a pervasive smell - it was almost like it wasn’t there one moment, and then you caught a whiff of it the next.

“It was really incredibly eerie.

“Then I heard a voice call my name. It was a high pitched voice, but definitely a male voice, like one that belonged to a really old man - although it was strong and clear: ‘Good evening, Bruce.’

“’Who’s that?’ I whispered.

“Suddenly he laughed, and it was like the quivering of canvas. It filled the shrouds and came down from the masts and came up from the bilges - and I don’t mind telling you I was more scared than I’d ever been before.

“I started to get up from the wheel to go below for help, but he laughed again and said ‘Don’t wake them, Bruce, it’s you I want to talk to.’

“’What do you want?’ I asked.

“You must remember I still couldn’t see anyone - just the ship, and then only a kind of a hologram of a ship, and it didn’t seem as if anyone was on board - although the voice was definitely coming from there, and I could still hear the music.

“’I want to tell you a story,’ he said.

“’Who are you?’

“’I’m the one they call van der Decken,’ he said. ‘But you don’t need to be afraid, I’m not going to do anything to you, except maybe ask you a favour.’

“’Why don’t you show yourself?’ I asked.

“’Oh, you’ll see me in time, but not now,’ he said, laughing again.

“By now we were lying almost alongside the ship, and it was as if both vessels were becalmed, so it wasn’t necessary for van der Decken to shout. Still, I hoped that his voice would waken one of the others on our boat, because I could really have done with some serious help right then.

“Suddenly van der Decken said, ‘Do you know Maria van Blanken?’

“’No,’ I said. ‘Why would I know her?’

“’Ah,’ he said, and I thought I heard his voice catch, ‘she was the most beautiful woman alive, and I loved her like no other.’

“I waited, and after a while he said, ‘No girl could light up a room like Maria; she had the voice of an angel, and every one loved to hear her sing. And although she was nothing more than a working girl, I fell in love with her the moment I saw her, and I knew she’d be true to me.

“’And you want me to find her?’ I asked.

“’Could you do that? Would you do that for me?’

“’How? I wouldn’t know where to start looking,’ I said.

“’You’ll find her at the Witsand Botel,’ he said. ‘She cooks there.’

“’You met her ashore?’ I asked.

“’No,’ he said, with sadness and longing. ‘I met her at sea. She was sitting alone at night on the prow of a liner, singing to the waves. No sooner had I seen her than I knew I had to marry her, and I boarded her ship and introduced myself to her, and we talked. She told me she was bound for Cape Town, and thence for Witsand.

“’I followed her around that ship like a young man in love, and I watched her entertaining her fellow passengers in steerage late into the night, and I listened to her jokes and her banter, but with the coming of the day I was forced to return to my command, and I’ve never seen her since.’

“And now you want me to tell her you love her?’

“’Would you?’

“I knew there was only one way I’d could end this bizarre conversation, so I said, ‘OK, I’ll tell her; and what then?’

“’Tell her to take a long boat out and meet me off the River Mouth at dawn...’ he said, and just then the glow began to fade, and I was suddenly alone in the fog and my boat was rocking gently over the swells.”

I laughed again and said, “That’s all?”

Bell looked at me strangely.

“Have you ever heard the old cliché about ‘ice in your veins’?” he said. “That’s what I felt that night, and that’s what I felt tonight when I saw that ship.

“He’s after me, I know he is, but I can’t do a thing about it.”

“You could go to Witsand, try and find the woman.”

He shook his head. “I’ve asked. There’s no one there by that name; never has been.”

“But there is a Witsand Botel?”

“Seems so,” he said. And then he slapped the arms of his chair and stood up abruptly. “It’s getting late and you’ve got to conserve your energy for the last day of your walk, so I should be getting on and you should be getting to bed. Thanks for the chat.”

I thought I’d offended him, but I let it ride, because I really was exhausted, and we said good night and he stepped off the patio and into the night.

I sat for another ten minutes or so, thinking and occasionally chuckling over Bell’s implausible story, and when I decided it really was time to turn in I took a candle from the patio table, lit it from the fire, and went into the kitchen where I found the fuse box. I flipped the trip switch back on and the house came to light again warm and peaceful, and I hoped all the others had turned off their bedside lamps before they’d fallen asleep else they’d surely be woken. Then I went around and switched off the lights individually, and climbed the stairs to bed.

In the morning, the owner of the trail joined us for breakfast and I told him - and my fellow hikers - about the power cut.

“Something tripped the earth leakage, you should probably get it checked out,” I said.

“I certainly will,” he said. “Thank you.”

“I must say, I enjoyed meeting your guide, Bell,” I said, and told him that the man had joined me for half an hour in front of the fire.

The owner choked on his coffee. “Bell? Big bloke, very blond hair?”

“That’s him,” I said.

“You couldn’t have met him.”

“But I did, and he told me the most outrageous stories.”

“Yes, Bruce was famous for his stories,” said the owner.

“Was?” I said.

“Do you remember that yacht that went missing off this coast about two years ago? The Maybell? That was Bruce’s family’s boat and it went down with Bruce, his parents and his brother on board,” said the owner.

“That’s why you couldn’t have spoken to him last night.”

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A Miraculous Day at the Witsand Botel by Martin Hatchuel is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Oystercatcher Trail changes minds

Martin Hatchuel — Wed, 01 Jun 2016 00:00:00 +0200

I’ve walked the Oystercatcher Trail, of course - but it’s only now, some years later (and having discovered the perfect quote above in Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch, Henry Miller’s 1957 memoir about his 18 years in California,), that I’ve worked out what the experience meant to me.

It helped me reach a destination. Even if it is one that will always keep changing.

Trail

The trail itself presented me with a few physical challenges - five days walking on the beach, along the rocks, and through the fynbos will do that - but it wasn’t anything that I couldn’t handle. (I was of only average fitness at the time - still am, but only mildly so.)

Those were the days when the legendary Willie Komani was still the Trail’s chief guide, and we became and remained friends until his sad passing in 2015. And - thank you again Henry Miller - the addition of a new friend always adds “a new way of looking at things” to anyone’s life.

But it wasn’t just Willie’s friendship that changed things for me. Sure, the time we spent together was important, the stories he told have remained with me, the things he taught us were fascinating enough.

No. It was also the time we spent staring at the sea (we were a group of 6 or 8 walkers from two or three groups of friends); the time we spent connecting across the ages with the people who made the hunter-gatherer middens that Willie found for us in the sand dunes along the way; the time we spent watching the water rushing onto the beach and beckoning us back again; the time we spent gazing at the sky by day and at the stars by night.

Precious time in our short lives, time we don’t often have available to us any more.

Connection

And it’s amazing what time can do, too - how it can change the idea that our destination (the Gourits River Mouth at the end of our hike) wasn’t our destination at all.

I came away from my Oystercatcher Trail having connected with myself and my planet in ways I hadn’t done before.

Don’t get me wrong, though: it wasn’t all deep thinking and heavy stuff. I had a huge amount of fun on my trail too, and my monkey mind got up to some wonderful mischief (I love it when it does that) - so much so, in fact, that it made me write down the (ahem!) true story of an evening with one of the off-duty guides.

But that’s the thing about change - it happens to us even in the way we laugh.

There’s more information about hiking the Oystercatcher Trail here.