Black Man Can't Swim, White Man Can't Dance

In British Columbia, Canada, we have a "Sea-To-Sky" highway that links Vancouver to Whistler. Indeed, the road takes you from the seashore to areas so much closer to the mountains and only the sky seems to be the limit there.

Here, on the spectacular Eastern Cape coastline I've hiked on a fantastic trail literally from sea to sky and back through the Tsitsikamma National Park. The beauty of the Otter Trail ranks it alongside the best treks in the world. In my ignorance little did I know about it before. It's not clear to me why it's called Otter Trail as I didn't spot any otter but, if it were called Sea-To-Sky Trail, I would find it perfectly justified.

Ignoring the common knowledge that you can only get on the trail if you made reservations a year in advance, whilst encouraged by friends to push my luck and count on someone's cancellation I went and waited patiently at the trailhead for 3 days.

And I was lucky!

I was lucky in many ways.
Firstly, I managed to get on the trail.
Secondly, I couldn't have wished for a better company on the trail.
In third place, we were lucky meeting others on the trail. They helped us out when things got rough.
And last but not least, we had excellent weather.

The group I joined was maybe unrepresentative for the hiker community, even uncommon I dare say, but it was so much more representative for the place and country I was in. Four young Africans from Soweto, near Johannesburg. Young, smart, strong, educated and funny they are - unfortunately - the only Africans I had, let's say, "a casual encounter" with rather than the formal one that has been bothering me for a while. Namely, if you go to a cafe or restaurant, to a campground or lodge the only Africans you'll encounter - with very very few exceptions - will be part of the staff, fact which made me feel uncomfortable many many times. It's hard to have a conversation with a busy waiter. Not to mention that coming from a "hi guys" culture where I feel perfectly integrated amongst the "guys" the warm yet formal "Good morning, madame" I very often was greeted with sometimes made me look behind me. Where's that madame?

This time the "madame" was part of the group and we enjoyed the hike together. We shared and helped each other. In the evenings at campfire we had interesting conversations. About social problems, education, relationship, religion, racism and life in general. Above us the sky was heavy with stars and the sound of the ocean, the almost rhytmic pounding of the waves was wonderful to listen to and was later lulling you into sleep.

It is hard to describe the beauty of the trail in words. At least for me.

The coastline is rugged, the waves gigantic at times breaking with fury against the cliffs. The trail takes you up and down through indigenous forest and across the fynbos plateau. You never go higher than 200m above sea level. Yet from up there you enjoy sweeping views of the coastline and you feel high up in the sky with a blue carpet beneath you. One day we spotted dolphins. We also briefly saw a whale which never showed up again. We nicknamed it the "elusive whale".

Though short the uphill sections are sometimes stiff climbs. The downhill sections bring you back to the sea and, quite often, to little coves and beautiful sandy beaches. You can go in for a swim wherever you like and I surely used the opportunity a few times.

The small wooden huts are always close to the shore and offering great views. It is either a sandy beach or a band of cliffs separating you from the ocean. The outhouses are pure luxury: they have windows and share the same view. I never enjoyed so much a stay in the outhouse :-) Not to mention that the toilets are flushable and the nice seats are sitting on a pedestal you reach by going up 2 steps. They made me think of a throne and the views are definitely worth a kingdom.
A couple of times we were welcomed by bushbucks on arrival to the huts. It was their territory and they roamed around and walked on the beach as they pleased.

The trail offers some additional excitement when it comes to river crossing. There are altogether 11 river crossings and while some of these can be as easy as hopping over boulders or wading through ankle-deep water a couple of them are notorious for their difficulty. The books, the maps and the video at the start of the trail warn you. The images in that video are actually very intimidating. At high tide the water may be so deep that you need to swim. It may also be rough. That depends on the time of the year and the amount of rainfall. In that case it is only at low tide that you can cross the river and you have to make sure you bring a survival bag. Backpack, boots and clothes go into the survival bag. Properly tightened up it floats on the water. Walking or swimming across the river you push the bag in front of you safely. Worst case scenario: you can also use it to help you float.

A timetable at the office informs you about the low and high tides. That's precious information. However, there's something I didn't know: in winter time the difference between low and high tide is merely about 0.5m. That's not very much.

We reached the Bloukrans river in the afternoon of our 4th day. Ahead of us and taking a break on the shore was the other group that started the hike the same day. They were all seasoned hikers and well prepared. They are winemakers from Franschhoek.
I turned out to be fairly unprepared on this hike. For once I had a stove that wasn't working. Contrary to common knowledge and my usual approach I had not attempted to try out the new stove I had bought right before coming here. It turned out not to work and so I had to rely on my new friends' stove. That worked out well. The other thing, and that was more important, that I missed was a survival bag.


So here we are on the shore of the river. At its mouth it is pretty big. The dark waters look intimidating. On the other side the shore is rocky. It is not yet low tide but, as we learn from the winemakers we shouldn't expect much difference in 2 hours time. One of them checks the water and reaches the other shore easily. "You can basically walk for about 2/3 of the way and then you have to swim as the water deepens" he says. We do not take this news with much enthusiasm. I am not a good swimmer and in this case the big pounding waves are quite intimidating. But I also go check the water only to find out that every wave almost knocks me off my feet even in hip-deep water. Great!
I do not have a survival bag but so do 2 of the Soweto guys. We basically have 2 bags for 5 people. That shouldn't be a problem! Let's try and put 2 backpacks in one bag at a time.
That turns out to be an unfortunate decision. As the water deepens and the waves keep coming it is easy to lose confidence and control especially if you're not much of a swimmer. On top of that comes the fact that the huge bag holding 2 backpacks now flips over you when you try to "climb" on top of it.
The winemakers by now have easily and elegantly crossed the river and are watching us from the other side. I think we offered some good entertainment. But we were also very lucky to have them there. As one of us drops the bag and is about to drown the winemakers come to rescue.
Conclusion: do not put 2 backpacks in one bag. Alright. So now on the "departing" shore we unpack the bags to only hold 1 backpack each. The winemakers also "donate" one of their bags and come over to help. The water is not very cold, but the sun has hid behind clouds, it is a bit windy and the waves seem more furious than before. When I'm in the water walking or swimming I'm warm but once I get out I'm shivering.

Crossing a river like this is not really something you want to do if you fear water. But with support it is doable. With help from the others the rest of us safely make it to the other shore. Once the panic is over we can laugh again and we are deeply grateful for the rescue and the help we received.

"They don't say for nothing that black people can't swim" says Nkululeko with humour and a hint of irony. "It's common wisdom that white people can't dance, black people can't swim". I start to laugh. I have not heard this before but I have now the proof for the second part. I had crossed the river now back and forth 5 times but I couldn't dance around the campfire :-)

All in all it's been a wonderful hike and a great experience. I made new friends. And I've learned an African word of wisdom :-)