Eight kilometres from Plettenberg Bay, a pretty peninsula named the Robberg points like a finger into the ocean.
On its western flanks, waves pound like fists against rugged rust-coloured cliffs while on the eastern side the sea is mostly calm. Here whales like to hang out, as do dolphins, seagulls, seals and sharks.
To stand atop the Robberg and be lucky enough to peer down upon dolphins surfing in the surge is always a lovely thing. To be there as the sun rises with perhaps a whale or two thrown in is nothing short of wonderful. A very lucky person might even find himself looking down on the ominous form of a great white shark as it patrols in search of seals. Early morning mist rises from the surf, lending the light a hazy, peachy glow, while the nearby sounds of waves and gulls and seals enhance an atmosphere already heavy with magic.
I really do like the Robberg…Coastal fynbos coats this sandy sanctuary under a shimmering, flowery carpet, while hardy little succulents eke out a living among its cliffs of jagged rock. If you pause to investigate the details of this lovely little nature reserve you will be rewarded with flowering vygies, strandloper middens and rock pools full of wonders. There are beaches and bays and viewpoints galore, and there are hiking trails by means of which you can explore it.
Managed by CapeNature, the Robberg Nature Reserve is a true sanctuary for the body, soul and spirit; a fantastic escape from the sophisticated hustle of Plettenberg Bay. As such, it’s a great place to visit for as little as an hour or for as long as a weekend. Those who like fishing will never want to leave it.
If, like me, you enjoy the sound of solitude and the taste of fresh salty air when the sun comes up, why not overnight in Robberg’s recently restored, historical fisherman’s hut? (There used to be two until a hectic storm a few years back washed one away). It’s right there on the edge of the sea. And although it’s rather rustic with bunk beds and a long-drop loo, it’s nonetheless quite lovely. In my humble opinion, there is no better place in the world to wake up, and that’s why I visit the Robberg as often as I can.
As well as the fisherman’s hut, the Robberg has hiking trails, an archeological dig site at a place where primitive man once resided, fantastic fishing spots and an abseiling platform. But the thing I most like doing when visiting the Robberg is spending time at the seal colony. Seals are fantastic animals and so much fun to watch. With that in mind I sipped at my early morning coffee on the stoep of the fisherman’s hut and watched the sun come up before heading off on a hike to where the seals hang out.
It was a nice walk, as it always is, and along the way I saw blue duiker, dassies and a little striped mouse. Seagulls followed me like shadows, hoping I’d fling them breakfast scraps. But I ignored them as one does a nagging child in a sweet shop. After a bit of uphill huffing and puffing, I soon reached my favourite vantage point above the seal colony. There I made myself comfortable, nibbled selfishly on a sandwich (much to the dismay of the gulls) and sat quietly with my binoculars trained on the frenetic action below. Seals were crammed against the cliffs like Christmas shoppers in a mall, jostling and bickering like old married couples. Mothers tended their pups with affection while boisterous youngsters played like puppies in the sea.
I’m led to believe there are people who aren’t that fond of seals, saying they’re smelly, noisome vermin that litter the beaches and eat far too many fish. Well, to them, I say: “Poppycock. You’ve just described humanity. Now go visit the Robberg seal colony; sit and watch them for a while and see if that doesn’t change your opinion.” Lovely creatures that they are. Seals are so full of playful energy that I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt them. But hurt them people have and hurt them people do. Many a fisherman, for instance, is quick to point a finger at anything other than himself when fish stocks start dropping – as they’re apparently doing at Plett. So the seals are sometimes shot from boats or purposefully drowned in nets by vengeful fishermen. But these spiteful wrongdoings are small fry when compared to the wholesale slaughter and commercial culling of the past.
The name Robberg actually means ‘seal mountain’ in Dutch, and originally it was a fitting name if ever there were one. But from the 17th to the 20th centuries Cape fur seals (which are actually sea lions, as can be seen from their visible ears) were clubbed to death with such ferocious efficiency that by 1908 the Robberg was completely bereft of them. It wasn’t until nearly 90 years later; in 1996, four years after a nationwide ban on seal killing came into play, that a seal hauled itself ashore on the Robberg again.
Over the next few years only a handful of bulls followed suit, but eventually more seals began showing up and now the population is growing. It’s still a long way from what it used to be, but things are definitely on the up. However not everybody is happy.
For many Plettenberg Bay residents the return of the Robberg seals is a wonderful thing. The animals attract tourists which bolsters the local economy (and creates jobs). What’s more, the seals are visual evidence of how nature can recover if given a respite from persecution.
But there are others, members of the commercial and line-fishing fraternities, who would rather see the seals dead than alive. So, amid claims of falling fish stocks and unacceptable damage to nets, an application has been lodged to once more cull the Robberg seals.
Fortunately, Professor Victor Cockroft, founder of the Plettenberg Bay Centre for Dolphin Studies, has stepped in with facts and figures which show the Robberg seals are not actually eating the same fish the fishermen are targeting. This is good news for the seals, which obviously won’t need to be culled now, and also good news for the fishermen, who can start a new avenue of investigation into why there seem to be fewer fish in the bay.
The Robberg Peninsula truly is a sanctuary It’s a sanctuary for Plett’s residents and visitors alike – who wish to escape the development along the Garden Route for a while. And it’s a sanctuary for the soul where the air is fresh and the real world can seem somewhere else completely.
But most of all, as I sit and watch the fun-packed colony below me on the cliffs and in the water I can’t help but feel that the Robberg’s most important role is that of sanctuary for the seals of Plettenberg Bay.
Put on your hiking shoes
The Robberg has three circular hiking trails of increasing difficulty and distance. The longest goes as far as the end of the peninsula and takes about four hours. It is dangerous at high tide and not recommended for young children. Hiking shoes, hats and drinking water are essential.
The fisherman’s hut sleeps eight. To get there (by foot only) you need to be reasonably fit, but you can arrange to have your luggage carried for a fee.
Contact CapeNature for bookings.
Cape Nature Reservations 08612273628873 website
Take a dolphin tour
Not everyone likes to hike and, besides, some of the trails on Robberg are challenging and not recommended for children, frail people or fatties.
But fear not, the delights of the Robberg are not denied you, for there are plenty of boating options out of Plettenberg Bay. Fishing off a boat in the waters around the peninsula is not permitted but you can go there by boat on one of the dolphin tours, which depart regularly from Plett’s main beach.
The more adventurous can go there by sea kayak (minimum age 14), and it’s a magical experience, often leading to wonderful close encounters with dolphins, whales, sharks and of course, the Robberg seals.
Ocean Adventures 044 533 5083, website
Text and pictures by Dale Morris. Article taken from the October 2010 edition of Country life magazine.
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