Gouritsmond to Vleesbaai

We’d grabbed a spot at the Gouritsmond camp site the night before thanks to Samantha at the gate, and with only a short hop to Vleesbaai ahead we didn’t bother setting an early alarm – a proper braai and a couple of glasses of red wine for dinner instead. Then at 05h30 the tent started flapping hard in the wind. Oh dear.

We drove down to check the beach anyway. Since it was such a short day the wind didn’t much matter – the surf did, though, meaty and crunching on a sandbank at low tide. By the time we’d had our coffee and walked back with everything packed, it looked even bigger. We found a launch spot after a long walk toward the river mouth, and according to my GPS I sat there eleven minutes waiting for a gap before finally taking it, no drama.

Closer to Vleesbaai the sea flattened right out into a lovely morning on the water. Rounding the last point under some high cliffs a fisherman started waving and whistling frantically at me – I understood the warning a second too late, because his line hit me square in the chest. Flicked it off over my head and carried on. Further along I paddled through huge schools of fish and a small pod of dolphins having fun.

Vleesbaai itself is an odd little spot – a gated community where the only public access is the shop or the church. Don’t try parking outside someone’s house near the beach if you’re fetching a lonely paddler. Tomorrow we head for Mossel Bay.