From 10 March 2009

10 March 2009

It was just after eight when Annemie dropped the three of us at Cape St Francis Lighthouse. The sun was shining but there was a cool breeze, it was low tide and we had what seemed to be a nice long stretch of sand ahead of us. Boys were in good spirits and full of energy. It was a proud moment for me and I was thinking of how blessed I am that my two boys could participate and share a small part of this adventure. We set off at a brisk pace and I had to caution them a number of times to save their energy as we still had a long way to go for the day and that we had a number of obstacles ahead of us.

Towards the end of the bay we decided to cut across the dunes, knowing that the coast beyond the point was just behind the dune field. Amongst the dunes we spotted a few sets of otter tracks but at this time of the morning we knew that there was hardly any chance of seeing these shy, playful animals. As we crossed the last dune, the sea was almost directly below us and we realized that we reached our first obstacle sooner than expected.
The spring storms of 2008 had washed away all the sand of the beach and had left only the rounded boulders and smaller rocks below the steep dunes. For the next few kilometers we were forced to make our way slowly and carefully over and around these.
After a number of slips, stumbles and nervous laughs we eventually made it to the Port St Francis Harbour wall. As we entered the complex we came across a humorously desperate or maybe desperately humorous sign posted on the wall next to the entrance. It was quite obvious that vagrants have been leaving their mark on this otherwise pristine and up marked security estate.

Finding our way around the back of the harbour, and through the maze of little dead-end streets proved more difficult than we thought. Despite Duncan’s agility on the treacherous rocks, he ended up twisting his ankle on a perfectly smooth tar road. However, it didn’t seem too serious and soon we reached the coast again, only to be welcomed by even more rocks! We decided to take a break and before we knew it, we had made quite a dent in our supply of daily chocolate snacks. Fearing that we would deplete our whole supply in one go we decided to rather pack up and go on.

Nothing lasts forever, though and after just a few more hundred metres we reached the sandy beach of St Francis Bay. By this time the two teenage appetites required more sustenance than the Provita and cheese wedge lunch could supply, so we decided to head inland for some serious hunter-gatherer survival tactics, making a bee line straight to the rich and endless hunting grounds within the confines of the local SuperSpar. While having our lunch, consisting of an assortment of sandwiches, burgers, sausage rolls, pies, chocolates, potato chips and fruit juice, we tried to get information from the locals regarding the state of the Krom River Mouth. Various sources confirmed that the tide was very high and, at the moment, outgoing. This does not contribute to safe river crossings, so we decided to walk through the village towards the main road where we could cross the river via the bridge, about 1km upriver from the coast.

Walking along the tar was easier for the boys with their shoes than it was for me and it was a relief to descend down to the sand along the river’s edge eventually. From above
we had noticed a tidal area of flat grassy salt marsh but the sand still looked quite firm. As we walked back towards the sea on the edge of the river, we encountered various shallow channels that were only ankle deep in water but where we sank into the mud below, sometimes up to above our knees. This obviously slowed down our progress but seeing as I was walking with two half wild teenage boys, their youthful exuberance soon rubbed off on me and we spent the next hour joking, teasing and laughing until we reached dry ground again. The last few hundred metres to the beach seemed to be quite straight forward and dry. However, as I have learned so many times before, all was not what it had seemed to be.

Very soon we saw a body of water extending towards our left at right angles to where we were headed…another obstacle…a wet one. We could not see the end of this tributary and came to the conclusion that the quickest way to the other side was to make our way straight across. Duncan volunteered to test the depth and managed to walk through, but at the deepest point he had to tilt his head backwards to keep his nose above the water level. This meant that we could carry our bags above our head and would not need to wrap them up in plastic and float them through. As Philip is still a head shorter than Duncan and I, he would have to swim. Duncan volunteered to go back and bring his brother’s bag for him. By the time we had all reached the safety of the opposite bank, our laughing had reached hysterical levels.

Time was not standing still and the obstacles that we had encountered meant that we would have to start pushing to make it to Aston Bay but by late afternoon we soon noticed that the banks ahead of us was becoming too steep and overgrown to walk along it, so we took a small gravel road that seemed to be heading towards the coast, parallel to the river. The going was quite easy until we reached the last property where we encountered a high wall and two fences barring our way. At first we decided to climb the fence and make our way down the dune through dense bushes. However the dense bush turned out to be denser than we thought and after twenty minutes of crawling, climbing, falling and getting scratched, we had only progressed as many metres. At this point we came to the unanimous conclusion that backtracking might be a better idea. Back at the fence we saw that if we climb the second fence there might be an easier way down to the beach. This turned out to be a much better choice and within minutes we were back on the beach. With all the time we had lost stumbling over rocks, detouring across the bridge, waddling through the salt marsh, spluttering through the tributary and crawling through the bush it was already almost 4pm and high tide. Spring high tide around here meant that we had to walk right at the top of the beach, in the soft deep sands at the foot of the dunes. This is not conducive to fast walking and the morning’s brisk pace seemed very far in the distant past.

Eventually we could see the first houses of Paradise Beach which was a great relief although it seemed like an eternity before we finally got there. While the boys collapsed onto a bench on the beach, I phoned my uncle, Christo, to change the planned pick up rendezvous. When he arrived, we were only about 4km short of our target for the day and taking into consideration the toughness of the terrain, I was extremely proud of my two young men. We were going to spend the night at my aunt Miranda’s home in Jeffreys Bay and Christo offered to take us all out for dinner. So we all, Christo, aunt Miranda, cousin Mika, Duncan, Philip III and myself enjoyed a fun family outing at the Spur in J-Bay.

11 March 2009

I had originally planned to take a day off in Jeffreys Bay but now decided to rather split the next leg in into two half days. The boys were knackered and Duncan had some arrangements to make to get back to the Tsitsikamma as he had commitments to fulfill there. My plan was now to walk from Paradise Beach to Super Tubes in Jeffreys Bay. Again the tide was low, the beach was open and firm and walking was good. By just after nine I reached the main beach where Albie from the Hour Times, the local news paper, met me for the interview that we had scheduled the day before. As we made our acquaintance, a young man dressed in khaki came up to me and introduced himself as Guillaume. It turned out that he and his lady friend Enora were also on a long distance spiritual hike. We arranged to meet back there to chat as soon as Albie and I had finished our interview at Café Kima. The interview was informal, jovial and the cheesecake was to die for! Soon we were back at the beach to meet Guillaume and Enora and by now Albie’s journalist instincts had picked up another good story. It turns out that the French couples had set off from Cape Point a few weeks before and were headed for Jerusalem. Yes, Jerusalem the Holy City. According to them they had grown up together in an environment where religion was not practiced but that they, in his words, “both felt a burning need to experience something beyond our mundane existence”. So their mission is to find God in people. We had a very intense and uplifting conversation and I experienced, yet again, the profound presence of the Lord as He gave me the answers to their questions.

Eventually after almost two hours, the time came to bid each other fare well and go our separate ways. I do not know whether I would ever find out what the outcome of their journey would be as they do not carry any means of communication with them but I did give them my contact details and I am hoping that they would somehow let me know.

From here it was a relatively short walk to Super Tubes where I met an old friend, Tara Smith and her dad Tyronne who owned a guest house on the beach front. Christo was to meet me at Super Tubes to take me back to Aunt Miranda’s house, but as Tara was heading into town, she offered to give me a lift there. Shortly after, Christo picked me up and on our way home he bought a mountain of take away’s, which we devoured in no time. Christo, Aunt Miranda (my dad’s other sister), and I spend the evening recalling some of the old family tales while Duncan, Philip III and Mika chatted about teenager stuff. I couldn’t resist reminding Duncan not to get too cheeky with Mika, because, even though she is only a few months older than him, she is MY cousin, not his(so she is actually his AUNT)!

12 March 2009
As I had decided to rather split one day’s walk in two, in stead of taking a whole day off, I only had a short distance to do today. Duncan had commitments back in Stormsriver, so I arranged a lift back for him, with Andre, who had visited his lady, Donnay, in J’bay. Philip is on home schooling and did not have to get back home immediately, which meant that he could join me for a few more days.

We set off from Super Tubes at 2pm and at Kabeljouws River, we met another favourite uncle and aunt of mine (well, they are all favourite uncles and aunts!), Oom Gideon and Tannie Wenda, who came to say good bye.

The rest of the day was an easy walk and we made camp amongst the dunes in a hollow between two small dunes. While Philip collected some more driftwood for the fire, I started getting dinner together. We noticed some loose clouds approaching from the west, but no reason for concern. However, soon after dark, they turned black, blocking out the full moon and, within minutes, the first drops plopped down on the sand around us. Our hastily erected bivvy proved sufficient to keep us dry, but with two of us hiding under it, my space was rather cramped and I had a restless night, waking up in the early hours of the morning, stiff and sore from sleeping in the same curled up position for hours.

13 March 2009
Breaking up camp was a quick matter and after a cup of instant oats each, we were ready for the day. Soon, two other early morning walkers came into view ahead of us and subconsciously we sped up to catch them. So, without realizing it, we covered a lot of ground in a short time. Just before the mouth of the Gamtoos river, we caught up to the middle aged couple and it was only 10am.

Reaching the mouth, we saw why locals had warned us about the Gamtoos. The tide was going out and the current was flowing fast, churning up the sand and making it almost impossible to even walk in the shallow parts of the river. We decided to wait a while and let the tide run out. Low tide, and just after the turning of the tide, is always the safest and easiest time to cross a river mouth. I calculated that we had about an hour and a half to wait, so we started depleting the last of our small chocolate bars. But sson we got bored and Philip agreed to attempt the crossing anyway. We put our packs in the big plastic survival bag and waded into the current, along the longest of the sand bars. Philip was holding onto the bag, on the upstream side and I was guiding us along on the downstream side of the bag. Taking the current into consideration, we had started off about a hundred metres above the mouth, knowing that we would get dragged along by the seaward flow. The swim proved to be relatively easy and in minutes we were dragging ourselves up the steep eastern bank. It was another proud moment for me, as Philip had just successfully executed his first real river crossing! He was laughing that familiar nervous post-stress giggle that I have experienced so many times in the past, after realizing that you have just succeeded in doing something that might easily have turned out bad. It is one of those rare moments where you cannot quite make up your mind whether you are elated or scared, or just plain relieved. Those who have never experienced this sensation, would not know how it feels and how addictive it can be, but they are surely poorer for it. Sadly.

The rest of the afternoon faded into obscurity in comparison. Philip could speak of nothing else and I enjoyed sharing it with him. The only bit of excitement after that, was the slog through the dune field after popping in at the small shop in the village.

As a precaution, we built a nice, sheltered, well anchored bivvy for the night. That was just to ensure, of course, that there would be NO rain at all. And so it was. Philip collected some sand clams which I boiled and then lightly fried in the bottom of the little saucepan. Food for kings!

14 March 2009

Today would be our last day together, but it is a special day. I was only 4.4km short of my first 1000km and Philip would be there to share this special milestone with me. We both commented on how great it would have been if Duncan could also have been there.

In less than 45 minutes, we had the required distance covered and took some photographs to celebrate. I knew that 1000km was still just a fraction of the total distance of my journey, but to me, it was an achievement none the less. One down, only six to go! OUCH!

At Van Stadens Mouth, we bought some cold drinks and pushed on towards Sea View, where Philip’s mother, Renette, would meet us to take my young man home. It was an emotional parting as I said good bye to my youngest, but he left behind a proud father. I am sure that many fathers can honestly say that they are proud of their sons, but I am privileged to be able to say this, about both my sons, in this very public way, to so many people! Well done both of you, my Boyz, I am proud of you and I love you very, very much!

I still had some distance to go for the day, though, and it was already dark by the time I reached Sardinia Bay and made a hungry, dry camp in the dunes above the bathing area. The beach was deserted by the time I got there, but around 10pm, two cars arrived with some late night revelers. The comforting sound of waves breaking, was shattered by the noise of revving engines, spinning tyres and excited shrieking of drunk people. Fortunately they had no audience and they got bored of it soon. So, as noisily as they had arrived, they made their welcome exit and I could settle down to sleep.

15 March 2009

It was an early start for me, as I had an appointment with some old acquaintances from the Mountain Club of SA at Pollock Beach in PE. Rob MacGeoghegan and John Best had arranged to walk into Port Elizabeth with me and had also organized accommodation for me in the city. Deon Ferreira, photographer of Die Burger, was also there to cover my arrival in the Friendly City. John was the head of Disaster Management in 2000 and co-ordinated the rescue mission during the Stormsriver tragedy. Rob was in charge of the actual search and rescue in the Gorge. Another major role-player, Theo Meyer, was to meet us at Shark Rock Pier. Theo was the senior SA Police helicopter pilot during the rescue. It was a very happy reunion and the first time since the accident that I met John and Theo again. By the time we had passed the Humewood flea market, I started wondering where this “overnight accommodation” that they had arranged, was, but John just smiled when I asked him. Suddenly my companions took a left turn and my stomach turned. I had lived in PE long enough to know that The Paxton is amongst the smartest hotels in the Eastern Cape! My first question to John and Rob was: “Do these people know what to expect?” I had not washed in four days and had been wearing the same clothes for about six days.

However, the first thing I noticed in the foyer, was a big Welcome signboard, saying “The Paxton welcomes Mr Swart”. Wow! I experienced about the same sense of belonging as a fart in a perfume factory, but not for long. The staff didn’t blink an eye at my appearance (or aroma) and instantly made me feel welcome. Although the first comment was to go and get comfortable in my suite, get the weight off my back and … enjoy a hot bath or shower. Admittedly, I needed no second invitation and made my way up to my luxury suite.

When I came down again, about half an hour later, Rob was waiting for me and introduced me to Cornelia from Die Burger. She interviewed me for over an hour but it was more like a long casual conversation and eventually she went back to her office to write, with a promise that she would not sensationalize the events around the 2000 accident. It is very important to me that the feelings of the survivors, as well as families of those who had lost their lives, be respected.

The comfort of the hotel was so relaxing that I fell asleep early and, boy, did I sleep!

16 March 2000

As I entered the breakfast room of The Paxton, Anton, the manager, greeted me with a hearty “Good morning, did you see you made the front page?!” Yip, there it was, front page of Die Burger, and a very well written, sensitive article.

After a good, hearty breakfast, I got my stuff together and said goodbye to Anton and his very friendly and sincerely professional staff. Walking through the early morning traffic in PE reminded me of my very first day in Cape Town. Me, barefoot with shorts and a backpack, with just about everyone else off to work or business, looking rushed and stressed. It was a great feeling!

By the time I had walked through the city, most of the day’s walk was done. My destination was Blue Water Bay, just across the Swartkops River, where Jokl and Charlene Le Roux had invited me to stay over. Their hospitality exceeded the offer of a bed and dinner. I had hardly put my pack down, or my dirty clothes were in the washing machine! I was a bit self conscious, because my shorts had a tear on the back, but Charlene is a super seamstress and in no time, my worn looking shorts were as new. Jokl fried cob and I love fried cob!

17 March 2009

From Blue Water Bay, it was a short, easy walk to the Coega Harbour Project.This is a restricted security zone, as major heavy construction is still on the go, but Rob MacGeoghegan had already made a plan for me. He is involved in safety training for construction workers at the project and had arranged with the Head of Security, Marius Groenewald, to escort me through the site.

When I got to the security fence, I phoned Marius and within minutes, we were on our way through the harbour. It is a big site, VERY BIG! At the far end, Marius asked whether I would mind if he prayed for me. It was a moving moment and when we opened our eyes, they were moist.

The prayer gave me new strength and I needed all of it. The wind had picked up to gale force, the beach had no more sand left, just a jumble of loose rocks and it looked like rain.

By early afternoon I was nearing the Sundays River mouth and I was honestly in no mood for a swim. I also knew that to get back to Colchester, where I was planning to fill up my water bottles, I would have to walk back from the mouth for almost 5km. So, instead, I took a sandy jeep track up to the N2, crossed the Sundays River and turned off to Colchester.

Just as I took the turn-off, I received a message from Jokl, saying that he had accommodation in Boknes for me with relatives of a friend. Great news, the goodwill just keeps rolling in!

For the moment, though, my prospects for tonight looked less than perfect. Camping in the caravan park was not a bad idea, but it was cold, the rain clouds were getting dark and I was not really looking forward to sleeping under just a plastic sheet in a rain storm. But then, once again, I experienced God’s love and power.

A car pulled up from behind, a man’s voice asked whether I was the barefoot guy. When I said yes, he asked where I was planning to stay over. When I told him, he asked what I thought of spending the night at a game lodge, all inclusive, I think you could guess my answer. Peter en Jenny Bean are the owners of Scotia Game Reserve just outside Colchester.

Once on the reserve, Peter drove me straight to the nearest game drive vehicle, where the ranger, Nick, had just spotted two white rhino’s. Peter and I got out of his vehicle and approached on foot. It was a moment I cannot describe, being so close to these great animals.

Once on Nick’s vehicle, we continued on the drive, had sundowners (Amarula and biltong) and watched a majestic sunset. Back at the main boma, I was treated to a scrumtuous meal, including kudu potjie! Peter also introduced me to his other guests and gave me the opportunity to tell them my story. The response was overwhelming and I spent most of the rest of the evening chatting to some of the tourists, but especially to Lloyd, one of the other rangers, who is also a devout Christian and also a walker. He had walked from the Transkei to Jeffrey’s Bay with hardly any gear, some time ago because, as he put it, “God told me to”. It was a turning point in his life.This was an intense and unmistakable confirmation to me that Lloyd and I had been brought together. I knew without doubt that it was God’s message to me, that I was doing the right thing for the right reason.

Back at my suite, I enjoyed a hot shower and reflected on how effortlessly God could change our fortunes if it pleases Him. One moment I had no better prospect than camping in the rain in a caravan park and the next moment I was being treated as a welcome guest at a beautiful lodge, with dinner, shower and warm bed at my disposal. Life is a gift from God and if we live it for Him, He shows Himself as a loving, generous Father.

18 March 2009

It was still early when Nick picked us up for the morning’s pre-breakfast game drive. The lions had been spotted and we headed straight there. The animals at Scotia are truly wild, free ranging and well adapted. The lions had not been seen in days and everyone was excited at the chance to see them. And wow, what a sighting! We spent a good hour watching the two males and female lazing about. Then, a passing warthog caught their attention. The female started stalking and we tensed up in anticipation. But the warthog was moving across the wind and eventually caught a whiff of lion odor. The moment of surprise was lost to the predator and she immediately lost interest. The warthog jogged away stiffly, his mane erect. This is Africa, and it is wild. We were not in a zoo. It is also not a wildlife documentary where the hunter always gets his prey. We did not get to witness a kill. But it was a wild moment. It was a moment of awareness, our own hunter’s instincts awakened. I felt alive, I was happy. There are still places where things go on as they have for millions of years. It was good.

After a late breakfast, another ranger, Nicky, gave me a lift back to Colchester. And there I met Mari and Katrina, the two ladies I had heard about, walking from Port Nolloth to Kosi Bay. They were taking an off day in Colchester and had just come to the shop when they spotted me, put backpack and bare feet together, and got kaalvoetsolo. We had a short but warm chat but then I had to get going, it was already past noon!

I managed to make 25km in the half a day that I had left and made camp in the dunes. I had misread my map and realized that my next watering point was two days away, not one, as I had thought. So I had about 250ml of water left that had to last me until the next evening.

19 March 2009

I started early, everything full of sand. During the night, the wind had picked up and blew fine particles into my backpack, sleeping bag, ears, nostrils, eyes, hair, beard and other places best not mentioned. I was a mess, but I just had to see the day through. It was a long, miserable day, but my experience with Lloyd had strengthened my faith and I ended up laughing at my own state as I walked. I even started composing a song for Yzelle!

By late afternoon I arrived at the hiking trail hut on the Alexandria trail. My first stop was the rain water tank. My second stop was the rainwater tank, again. Amazing how tasty water can be. I had no craving for cold drinks, coffee or any other liquid. Just water. And it tasted great! It also meant that I could eat, as all my food is dehydrated trail food and without water, I also could not eat. But now all was fine again. We really need so little to get along with. A bowl of two minute noodles and a verandah to sleep under were all I needed. And I was happy. Not just OK, but HAPPY!

20 March 2009

The walk from the hut to Boknes was easy and uneventful. Louise and Hennie welcomed me as if we had known each other for years. They had retired here recently here and were enjoying the uncomplicated, simple lifestyle that they had chosen for themselves. It felt like I was with family, although I had never met them before.

21 March 2009

Louise suggested that I spend a second night with them, as Kenton-on-Sea is not far away and they could easily fetch me there. I needed no prompting and accepted. The walk there was beautiful and I met quite a few great people on the way, including Bruce, Kate and the kids, who offered me a lift across the Bushman’s River in their boat.

22 March 2009

The day’s walk started with a swim across the Kariega River. Compared to previous crossings, it was easy and quick. But the tide was coming in fast and soon after, I was walking in the soft sand, straight into a strong north-easterly wind. Port Alfred seemed very far and my progress was excruciatingly slow. But even slow days come to an end and when I reached the first houses, I phoned Hennie Marais, my newspaper contact who had arranged super accommodation at Chan Kahn’s guesthouse, River’s Edge. Hennie took me for pizza at Guido’s, on the house! Bret, the manager, was very interested in my story and then shared with us, their family’s recent experience when his brother had a near death encounter. He also confirmed that they all saw God’s hand in his brother’s recovery and that it had changed their lives for the better.

23 March 2009

On the afternoon of my rest day, I was interviewed by Hennie, for Talk of the Town, the local newspaper, as well as by David Macgregor of the Daily Dispatch of East London. They both had contacts further upthe coast and set out to contact them on my behalf. I still find it hard to believe how keen complete strangers are to assist me.

Mari and Katrina were now on my heels and arrived later in the day. When Chan heard about them, he insisted that I phone them to invite them to stay over at his guesthouse too. They were more than thankful and we all shared in a most awesome chicken curry dinner, specially prepared by Chan’s friend Danny.

24 March 2009

Port Alfred had been good to me and it was hard to leave, but I had to keep going, so I set off from the eastern bank of the Cowie River and headed for Kleinemonde, where David and Hennie’s friend, Lloyd Gillespie offered me a place for the night. I found that Lloyd and I have a lot in common.

He is planning a similar expedition, along the same route, but starting and ending in Durban. But he would be riding horses, to raise awareness for African Horse Sickness. We immediately connected and chatted all night, through dinner with his girlfriend, Isabel and their friend Gaya, until late.

25 March 2009

By the time we reached the beach at where Lloyd was to drop me off, we had already decided that he was to walk with me up to the Fish River mouth, from where he would find his way back to Kleinemonde. I was glad to have him along and on the way we discussed our individual adventures on a more personal and spiritual level. Lloyd has had this dream for many years. He had decided to link it to the horse sickness project but has found that the formalities and other protocol, that comes with the package, seem to be getting in the way of his heart. I had been through the same and could identify with his concerns. By the time we reached the Fish, I could sense that he had more clarity on how he wants to go about his mission. It is always stimulating to connect with a soulmate, and that is what I had found in Lloyd (and quite a few other people I had met so far).

To get across the Fish, I could either walk up to the bridge on the N2, or swim through the mouth. But now a third option presented itself, in the form of Robert and his brother, Welcome. They are local subsistence fishermen and they use a small, ancient dinghy to get to the best angling spots. Without asking for remuneration, Welcome agreed to take me across and when I offered him R20, he was ecstatic. So within minutes after I had said goodbye to Lloyd, I was off again.

Just before I got to Mpekweni Sun hotel, Lloyd phoned me. He had already arranged with a friend of a friend at Mgwalana, Sydney Walters, for accommodation. The Network just keeps spreading! Syd and his wife, Susan, had also retired here and their house was nearly completed. Syd had built it all by himself and is now just adding a few minor trimmings. They are “real people”, no frills and pretences, so I immediately felt at home.

It was a relief to be in a friendly environment, because today was an emotional day for me. It was exactly nine years since The Accident.

26 March 2009

I woke up early, it was my “second birthday” today. Nine years ago, today, I was rescued out of the Stormsriver, it was the beginning of my new life.

After breakfast, Syd and Susan joined me for their morning walk. Susan turned around at an old wreck on the beach, but Syd walked with me up to Birha, a small village, consisting mostly of holiday houses. After he had turned back, I decided to take a break. A few weeks before, I had stepped in a thorn and now, for the last few days, I had been experiencing pain and throbbing just in front of my left heel. Now, as I sat, resting, I took my pocket knife and started digging. Immediately, as I pierced the thick skin, puss spurted out, like an eruption. The tip of the old thorn came out soon after. I worked some antiseptic into the cavity and stuck a plaster over it.

But I was feeling down and strangely lethargic, as if I just couldn’t get myself to put my pack on and walk again. It bothered me, because I was afraid that I might be losing my motivation. Knowing myself and easily I get bored, I realized that I could not rely on my own strength to complete this adventure. Now it also occurred to me that it would be foolish to think that I could drive myself to keep going. So I decided to take the day off to pray. There was hardly anyone around so I had enough quiet time. By late afternoon, my spirits were rising and I felt much better. Again, I was reminded that the motivation behind this mission, came from God, not from me, myself. My own strength would never be enough to succeed. I had known this from the start, but we all need some reminding, from time to time. So now, with my spiritual batteries recharged, I felt rejuvenated again and prepared my camp for the night, ready for tomorrow.

27 March 2009

The walk to Hamburg was easy enough and with my new-found strength, I reached it by mid afternoon. As I was making myself comfortable in the campsite next to the wide estuary of the Keiskamma River, Hennie Marais from Port Alfred, phoned me to ask how I was doing. Through Dave Macgregor, he had found a possible contact for me in Hamburg. But he did not have a contact number and suggested that I make enquiries at the local police station or restaurant. I knew the restaurant was within the caravan park, only a hundred metres from where I was. The first person I encountered there, was Barend Botha. Yes, of course he knew the people, but he also knew that they were away for the weekend. No problem, my camp was sheltered and I didn’t mind camping. However, Barend was not going to leave it at that. After a brief consultation with his wife, Jillian, he insisted that I stay over with them. Yet another intervention. I did not doubt God’s power anymore, but I still find it amazing.

Barend’s friend, Henk, owns a boat on the river and he offered to ferry me across the next morning. He also told me that he had been approached by two lady hikers for a lift. I knew it was Mari and Katrina. So we would meet again.


28 March 2009

By 8am, Henk and I were releasing the boat’s moorings. We were to meet the ladies further down, near the slipway and they were right on time. Henk’s boat, like himself and his dogs, is a character. Only Henk knew how to coax its engine alive and how to maneuver its simple’ modified controls.

The Ladies and I agreed to walk together for the day. My objective was Kidd’s Beach, their’s only 5km closer, at Palm Springs. We had been warned about the Chalumna river but when we got there, it was low tide and although the current was fast and strong, we managed to wade through waist deep. From there, it was a short walk to Seavale, a private security village that had a little shop. But they had no Topper biscuits, a cheap, tasty treat that I had developed a constant craving for. So I just bought a slab of chocolate and a cold drink.

At Palm Springs, Mari and Katrina turned of and I continued. Barend had arranged with his cousin, Boetie, for accommodation, but Boetie was only going to be home later in the evening. I waited for him at the tidal pools where I met Jill and Kevin. We had a long and pleasant conversation. By 8pm, Boetie phoned to say he was on his way. I saw a group of people having dinner at the restaurant, watching me. That was nothing new, but when Boetie arrived, he introduced me to them. Malcolm is the owner of Breeze Inn guesthouse, just around the corner and Boetie had quickly arranged with him to put me up. We ended up having a deep philosophical and spiritual discussion until 3am.

29 March 2009

Malcolm asked me to contact the Ladies to invite them for breakfast and they joined us on their way past. After saying good bye to Kidd’s Beach, we continued together again. On the way to Cove Rock, they reached their 1400km mark.

I had briefly met Vincent Scheffer at Colchester and he had kept contact. Now I was invited to spend the night with him and his wife, Linda. He advised me to take the R72 through East London, in stead of walking along the beach from there. A number of serious assaults have taken place there recently, including the incident where he himself, was attacked and as a result, was now blind in his one eye. I decided to take his advice. Mari and Katrina were picked up by friends where they were to spend the night.

30/31 March 2009

Vince dropped me, back at the main road, on his way to school (he is a teacher) and for the first time in a while, I was walking on tar again. Getting through East London was easy enough. But not before I had two more meaningful personal encounters on the way. As I was walking past a big car dealership in Fleet Street, someone called out to me. Antony is a car salesman and had seen a newspaper article about my walk. He gave me some apples, cold water and a great motivational chat. But, again, that was not all (it sounds like a Verimark ad), he had old friends on the Wild Coast and phoned them immediately. Now I had accommodation outside Coffee Bay too!

Further down Fleet Street, I met Jan Smit, a city councilor, who also had friends along the coast. Before I knew it, I had a contact at Kei Mouth too! Incredible!

But, like the Verimark ads, this was still not all! By the time I had reached Eastern Beach, Vince phoned to give me details of HIS friends, Dalecia and Ewie, in Gonubie. They own a guesthouse, Sandpiper, and had agreed to put me up. I was to spend two nights here, as I needed to take an off day to rest and do gear maintenance before tackling the Wild Coast.

1 April 2009

It was chilly and a slow drizzle gave the whole area a grey look. The tide was high and when the life guards at Gonubie beach advised me not to swim the mouth, I didn’t argue too much. There was a small restaurant above the beach and I sat down for a cup of coffee. The Daily Dispatch ran a very contentious article about a controversial politician’s plans to build a multi-million rand mansion in a nearby nature reserve, without regard for environmental sensitivity or building regulations, and of course, using tax payer’s money! Because I am an incurable practical joker myself, I was very aware of the date, and had great fun listening to the outraged reactions of some of the local regulars at the restaurant.

By 11am, I was happy to see that the river level had dropped considerably and I managed to wade through chest deep, with my back on my head.

By 4pm, I realized that I was not going to make it to Chintsa before dark, but as I was walking past the small settlement of Glengariff, I heard someone calling after me. Steve and Mary San Filippo had left their home in the USA to retire here, a few years ago. They were very interested in my story and Steve even made a video recording of my testimony. And then we had real Mexican food, made by Steve. What a treat!

Note to readers: Due to logistical difficulties, I will have to condense the next few weeks in this blog. It has been very difficult for me to keep it up to date and I apologise for this. But we have now devised a new plan and once I have caught up, it should be easier.

2/4/09
Belt strap of backpack broke at Chintsa, did temporary repair. Difficult, rocky terrain between Cape Henderson and Pullen’s Bay. Stayed over with Mike and Neil Arnold at Pullen’s Bay.

3/4/09
Easy walk from Haga Haga to Kei Mouth, no obstacles. Stayed over with Oom Ras and Tannie Johel Van Den Bergh, had dinner at Green Lantern.
4/4/09
Complementary breakfast at Green Lantern. Thank you, Reg, Synette and Jordan! Crossed Great Kei River per ferry, encountered first cattle on the beach (a very common phenomenon in Transkei)
Waded through Mbokotwana, Khobonqaba and Nxaxo rivers. Camped beyond Wavecrest Hotel.

5/4/09
Easy walk to Mazeppa Bay, stayed over in chalet at Mazeppa Hotel.

6/4/09
Slow, varied terrain between Mazeppa and Nqabarha river. Camped in dense bush, had rain overnight.

7/4/09
Swam Nqabarha river early in morning. Invited for breakfast with Craig and Belinda Lindhorst.
Past 1500km mark at Mendu Point.
Nearly got swept out to sea by killer current while swimming across Mbashe mouth. Got big fright because I’ve never been much of a swimmer and still have many such crossings ahead of me.
Stayed at The Haven Hotel, arranged by Lloyd Gillespie. Royal treatment. Thanks to Mike (manager) and all staff, also Scott, Leon, Lizette, Neil, David, Libby and Gavin.

8/4/09
Easy, pleasant walk in morning, but into strong wind from noon. Reached Xhora river just before high tide. No sign of ferry, waited, but eventually had to swim, AGAIN strong current but fortunately narrow mouth.
Stayed over at delightful Bulungula Community Backpackers. Met old friends Daniel and Anna, TOTAL surprise!
Thanks to Dave and Albert

9/4/09
Terrain changed from flat sand beaches to high cliffs with detours around and steep paths up and down. Awesome scenery! Swam Mpako mouth easily without backpack, as Kobus Botha offered to ferry it across on his kayak. Thanks Kobus!
Hole-in-the-Wall is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen in my life! GO VISIT IF YOU CAN!!!
Walk along 6km of gravel to Raptor’s View was taxing, but worthwhile. Spud and Delene Murray are super people! Thank you, MaXhosini! My Barefoot t-shirt is in Spud’s pub, an amazing spot!
Met Philip and ER from YOU magazine for interview.




10/4/09
Photo session back at Hole-in-the-Wall for YOU article, then short stretch to Coffee Bay, arrived in rain at Coffee Shack, one of the best backpackers on the Wild Coast. Thank you Belinda and Dave! Met Daniel and Anna AGAIN!

11/4/09
Started day with long, steep climb, endless detour around deep gorge and that set the stage for the day. Walked 26km, only made 12km progress along route.
Caught first community ferry across Mthatha mouth for R7 (it cost me R20 because ferrymen NEVER have change… and neither did I.) But thanks to Sipho who did the rowing!
Stopped at Mdumbi Backpackers for water, got bread and coffee on the house! Thanks Tony, Lusanda and Astrid!
Camped under red milkwoods on top of sand dune just before Mdumbi river. Beautiful spot!

12/4/09
Second community ferry across Mdumbi mouth in strong outgoing tide. Kiki also didn’t have change and I still had none either, so another R20 gone. (but I couldn’t wait 4 hours for the tide to go out and my attempts to wade through waist deep brought me nothing but a few mouths full of salt water)
At the Mtakatye mouth I was fortunate to meet Joe with his rubberduck, because I had run out of R20 notes.
Got strong south-westerly wind in afternoon, black rain clouds racing over me.
Found shelter under verandah of holiday house at Hluleka.
Was treated to dinner by Gerhardus and Sarina, also sandwiches and cold drink from Ivan. Thanks to you all!

13/4/09
Slow, up and down climbs to Mpande village, scenery still indescribably beautiful.
Met Henry and Rebecca on beach, took their advice to stay at Mama Winnefred’s Village Based Accommodation. Real traditional huts , food and friendly hospitality. Mama W’s sons, Anton, Sam and Allan even treated me to Xhosa lessons to improve my rudimentary vocabulary. More than just an overnight stay, a HIGHLY RECOMMENDED EXPERIENCE!

14/4/09

Same mountainous terrain as previous days. Slow going but views and lush valley forests made it worth while. Brazen Head is one of the highest points on this coast, at 239m above sea level.
Had sufficient change (changed last money at Mpande) for ferry across Umngazana river. Thanks Lewis!
Camped in small valley just past Umngazi river, feasted on fruits of num-num shrub (Carissa macrocarpa). My own food was finished four days ago.

15/4/09
Was looking forward to relatively tame Port St Johns where I could find an ATM and shops, I NEEDED FOOD!
But 5km short of PSJ, as I was walking along Second Beach, I noticed a tall figure with a grey beard, wearing only a sarong wrapped around his waist and an old leather hat. (just about all that I was wearing as well). But I immediately knew who this man was. Ben Dekker is a legend and one of my childhood movie hero’s! At 67, he has been living a simple life here for the last 28 years. Oom Ben is an eccentric, highly educated philosopher, artist, ecologist and story teller with a well of knowledge of edible and medicinal plants. And he invited me to stay over in one of his guest cottages! I wish I could have stayed longer but one night was all I could allow myself. This is one of the top highlights of my walk, so far. Thank you, Oom Ben, and go well, I’ll be back!

16/4/09
Walked to PSJ to replenish supplies and meet up with the family of my old friends, Phindile Siko and Nzuzo Nkili. Phindile’s mom, Phyllis had invited me to spend a night with them in their village, Caguba. His brother, Clifford took me there. What awesome people! Thank you, so much, everyone!

17/4/09
Clifford dropped me off in PSJ after breakfast and I caught municipal ferry across the Mzimvubu river (biggest river in the area, about 400m wide). Ferry was free but had to wait for minimum of 10 passengers.
Swam through Mntafufu mouth at high tide, camped in lapa of deserted holiday house in forest next to mangrove swamp. Millions of mosquitos!

18/4/09
Early start, coffee with Bongani at Drifters’ Trail Camp at Manteku, then on to Cutweni, camped in saddle between two hills. Hot and humid, with even more mozzies than Mntafufu!

19/4/09
Coastal cliffs and deep gorges forced me inland, up to Luputhana gorge, then back to coast. Much flatter, easier terrain from there to Lambasi Bay.
Camped next to river. Hastily had to erect shelter against rain.

20/4/09
Easy terrain but made slow progress, was feeling weak and rested often. Met Lance, Oliver and Sarah at Strandloper Falls, above Mkambathi mouth. Lance gave me coke and three packets of his special trail food mix. Thanks!
Reached Mthentu mouth (at high tide of course) late afternoon. Felt like crying, mouth very wide and it started to rain. Still very weak, no choice but to swim. Collapsed on sand bar, exhausted but still had to climb around rocky ridge to get out of river. Found deserted camp site with thatched lapa, at least I had shelter and some dry wood for fire.
Suddenly heard someone calling my name. It was Zirk, part of production company filming in area. Had heard about me from Lance, came to look for me. Will contact me shortly for possible documentary. At least some good news on this dreary day!

21/4/09
Woke up weaker and with headache, suspecting flu. Still raining but pushed on. Target for the day was Mzamba river, map showed campsite there, hoping for some decent shelter, condition not good. Mzamba was bigger than I thought, ANOTHER swim. As I reached the far bank, rain started pouring down. Headed for “camp” but found it all but destroyed, NO SHELTER! Just took time to put on fleece and rain jacket and wrap sarong around my waist. Started walking on without a plan. Could see houses far away along the coast, could only be Port Edward.
Had to go to tar road to get to bridge across Mthamvuna river into KwaZulu Natal. Entered Port Edward in pouring rain, almost dark. Wandering around streets, saw sign to Methodist Church. There was a light on! Hazel offered me shelter under verandah until their meeting was over, also brought me coffee. Then she and Wessel arranged with Andre Van Zyl to open church hall for me and offered me a room with hot shower in the complex. Hazel then went and bought me food! It was so clear how God’s Hand has lead me to the church and provided a warm dry place through these gracious people. Praise The Lord!

22/4/09
In the mean time, Yzelle and her family had started phoning friends and acquaintances, and got hold of Oom Jan and Tannie Lorraine Terblans who lived nearby. They were more than willing to put me up for another night and even do my laundry for me! Wonderful people!
But my father-in-law-to-be had more surprises for me. He had arranged a lift for me from Durban to their home in Ermelo the next day. They all wanted to see me. Another God-send.
I was still feeling sick and started suspecting that the little sore under my left arm might be a spider bite. My glands were swollen and painful, and had woken up during the night, cold but sweating profusely.
Oom Jan took me to the Port Edward taxi rank where I caught a taxi to Port Shepstone. From there, I took another taxi to Durban, then walked through city to the bus terminal to get a bus to Ridge Road where Ettienne, a friend of my Yzelle’s Dad, met me. We drove up to his home in Newcastle, Where Oom Jurie and Yzelle fetched me. She was shocked at my scrawny state (or maybe it was the beard), but overjoyed to see me. I had lost 13kg since leaving Cape Town and was now weighing only 69kg.
We had hardly walked into the Kotze’s home in Ermelo, or Yzelle and Tannie Yvonne started feeding me!
Yzelle’s uncle, Dr Koos Naude, has a medical practice in Carolina, the neighbouring town and he diagnosed the bite under my arm as a tick bite! He immediately prescribed antibiotics.



23/4 – 5/5/09
I am officially on sick leave but feeling MUCH better and I have also regained some of the lost weight.
But I can’t rest forever, so tomorrow I will have to start getting back to Port Edward to resume my walk.