Trek-net fishing and Surfer's Corner in Muizenberg - a touch of tension

Late Wednesday, I started hearing about treknet fishing taking place at the popular Surfer's Corner in Muizenberg.  Muizenberg is Cape Town's surf nursery and has a firm place in South African surfing lore.  While not my preferred wave, there's always a good vibe there as newbies, oldies, guys and gals hit the surf with enthusiasm like few other places.  It's also a place known for frequent visits  from the landlord and it's the busiest post for the shark-spotters.

Treknet fishing is beach seine netting - where a net is rowed out to the backline and then across the beach before the whole lot is pulled back to shore.  It's a form of artisanal fishing although the prevalence of this method is declining.  From around 100 trek-netters in the 60's, there are now only 4 licenses issued.  Of that, only 2 are allowed to practise at Muizenberg.  And although they often fish for harders (mullet) beyond the river mouth, occasionally - about 3 - 5 times a year, there are yellowtail shoaling in the Corner, and they put their gear out amongst the surfers.

I took a cruise down there yesterday to suss the vibe.  As I stepped out of my car, I could hear the shark siren going and the beach was thronging with people as another net was coming through the breakers.  Monwa, chief sharkspotter, was calling the last few reluctant surfers in.  There was no shark sighted.  It was being done as a precaution.  Kids and other spectators joined in the net pulling.  Surfing or not, the groms were always going to gravitate towards the action.  The net hauled in a disappointing single yellowtail, and a ton of bycatch: harders, crabs, blowfish, stingrays, sandsharks and a few species I couldn't recognise.  By the time I was done taking photos, the white flag was down, and the red high alert flag was hoisted.  Surfers wasted no time in getting back in the water.  Compared to the photos I've seen of what took place in the morning, there wasn't much animosity visible.  It appeared, on face value, that surfers have accepted the situation and were getting on with it.

The problem of netting in a recreation area is two-fold.  The first is that handling the gear in a line-up, especially where there are big boards and inexperienced people, not to mention small kids playing in the shallows, is dangerous.  Nets are, after-all, designed to trap things.

The other problem is the perception that they attract sharks.  This may be true, but a few things have to be considered.  One, when the gamefish are shoaling, sharks are likely to be preying on them anyway.  So, its rather they have a common interest in being there, instead of one attracts the other.  Does A lead to B lead to C, or does A lead to B and C?  Put differently: I go to the bar because I want a drink.  Pretty girls go to the bar for the same reason, not because I'm there.  Although, later in the evening, this perception may change.  Whether sharks are being attracted by the aggregation of agitated fish is quite possible, but a very tough hypothesis to test. 

The second perception is it may be conditioning sharks to stay in the area longer.  Bear in mind it's infrequent, and if there was conditioning taking place, it would more likely happen where yellowtail treknetting is more prevalent - like Fishhoek - or further down the beach where harder fishing is a regular affair.  Current thinking amongst marine biologists is that it doesn't.

Yet, regardless of the above, if an attack does occur during or just after trek-netting, the finger will be firmly pointed at them.  This is the worst case scenario.  It's unlikely, but not impossible.  At a previous attack in Fishhoek, there were fish shoaling at the time.  Birds, and obviously other predators, were feeding.  If it were possible to measure the presence of prey during an attack, there may be a correlation.

Also, there is actually huge tension between the fisherman and surfers.  Yesterday, the net lines were apparently cut in the morning.  One surf rental owner had to physically defend himself from a fisherman.  Previously, there have been fists thrown in the water.  The fisherman have also sworn at the sharkspotters, claiming the siren scares off the fish.  While, that last accusation is actually quite laughable, it does illustrate the animosity between groups.  Opinions on who was there first, who has more right, or derives more economic value and creates more benefits and for whom forms the basis of the arguments.  Throw in a history of social injustice and an inherent distrust for the authorities and tempers are bound to flare.

City and Fisheries officials met with some experts and discussed the matter behind closed doors.  The outcome was this:

1. The licence grants the right to trek-net at Surfers Corner.  Finish and klaar.  It is unlikely that any amount of objection will change this.  Given the historical nature of it and the sensitivity of these livelihoods, the powers that be would be very reluctant to oppose the fisherman.

2. From now on, trek-netters are required to inform the officials and the sharkspotters when they intend to fish at Surfer's Corner.  The beach will be closed by the sharkspotters during this time.  It is judged to be a fair sharing of the space as it does occur infrequently, and for a short period of time when it does happen.  Local surf schools and other businesses won't agree with this.  The real problem may not be just the lost time, but the perceptions of sharks mentioned above.  Personally, I don't think the same shark warning system should be used to close the beach for trek-netting as it reinforces this connection.  I propose a new flag (yellow? pick a colour) that indicates shoaling fish, sharks possibly present.

3.  Anti-social behaviour from anyone will not be tolerated.  Fisherman tend to be a rough breed.  Surfers are known to be a touch rebellious.  Cool it, guys.  There's more problems down the road if matters are taken into your own hands and aren't addressed through the right channels.

4. Information boards on the above are to be put up.  So, there's quite a bit of signboard literature down at Muizies before you get wet there - Shark info, Dept of Environment info, rules of the waves info - best bring your reading glasses and a notepad.

I think this is a workable situation, but there will be continued grumbling from the surfers there.  As usual, perceptions trump reality.  Does treknetting bring sharks?  We don't know.  But, that doesn't matter.  The joker in the pack will be the next attack - especially if treknetting has taken place recently.  But, that can of worms will hopefully stay far away from the can-opener.

I took a few snaps while down there yesterday.  Geniedit.

Monwa, calling in the last stragglers

A treknetter: safety first

No down time if you're a grom

A stingray

Bycatch, soon to be released

Pufferfish - also not digging the treknetting

Back in the water, minimal time lost

Red flag fluttering in the offshore

Culprits and victims: you say who's who

Old men of the sea, students of surf, and young rippers - sharing is caring, especially at the 'berg

On timing

One of the greatest things about surfing is the sheer split between timing it just right, and timing it completely wrong.  And when dealing with a fluid environment you can never be too sure, and nothing is waiting for you to decide.  The arrival of the next set is always an unknown element.  It's critic decision making with limited information and immediate deadlines in an uncontrolled environment.  They should teach surfing at business school.  Not, that I'm a soldier, but I imagine it to be similar to making decisions on a battlefield, obviously with far fewer consquences.

There's a wave that's been mentioned here before which is well known to have a hell paddle.  The first time I surfed it at decent size, I was standing on the jump off rock, legs vibrating with adrenaline and looking for a que that I had no idea how to recognise.  Another guy strolled past me, and without a glance at the horizon, vaulted into the swirling channel and went for it.  Ok, if that's how it's done, I thought.  Then I, thought for a moment longer just to get my nerve up and lept in.

That extra moment of doubt turned out to be my saving grace.  The other guy probably had about 10 seconds on me and  was at the entrance of the channel when a set loomed large.  I was still in it and had a good few duck dives - not easy on a 7'6" - but by the time the waves hit me, they'd lost most of their power.  On surfacing each time, I just made sure I had enough distance between myself and the rocks on either side.  My unwitting guide took the whole set on the head.  On about the 3 wave, I saw him being washed over the jagged shelf to the right of the channel.  I didn't see him again.  The set ended and all the water packed in the channel sucked me out cleanly.  The next guy to make it to the backline told me he'd just limped home taking his torn board with him. 

Timing...

Ja, looking cool now, aren't we.

That's not the wave being discussed. But, when this guy is done posing, he's got a lot else on his mind.  He can hail mary it.  Or he can calculate.  Either approach works.  Sometimes.  Sometimes the mixed approach works.  Other times it does not.  And those big names have an uncanny ability to get it right more often than not.  I suppose experience goes a long way.

pic via Natural Art's FB page.  No idea who the original credit goes to.

The path

Its shot like this that just make me want to go.  A long way. 

pic: followcam

About 2 years ago, I was lucky enough to spend 11 days walking the Transkei coast - from Port Edward to Coffee Bay.  230kms of mostly unspoiled coastline.  Conditions weren't great for scouting, but the potential is so vast that spots become obvious.  You look at a set up trying to work against the prevailing wind-chop and you can feel the potential of the right swell, wind and tide. 

It's also a great feeling looking down the coast to the distant hills and points and knowing in a few days time, your feet will take you to those places.  With everything you need slung on your shoulders, your board under your arm, and your world unfolding one cove at a time, anything seems possible.  The independence and freedom.  There's something about it that resonates in a deep primeval way.  It's part of the theory that I hold that surfing is the modern day expression of our former hunter-gatherer psyche. 

And when you tread the shores of Southern Africa, this is made more true as you follow the long since washed away footprints of the ancestors of all humankind.  It's no coincidence that human culture began on this beautiful, amazing coastline.  And like your path will take you to places you can't dare to imagine, humanity's course is anything charted.

Actually, what happened to Ry Craike?

Yesterday, we ran a little piece showing West Oz screwfoot, Ry Craike taking it hard. Somewhere.  Probably somewhere up in West Oz.

That got me thinking.  Remember this little prodigy?  This guy was the next big thing in aerials and then he just slipped off the radar.  I suppose that's easy to do in Western Australia.  It's a pretty big place.  But, our boy has been quietly going about his own thing.

While we're busy fixated on one Dane Reynolds, on the other side of the world, on the other side of his feet, Ry has been living the free surfing dream and doing just fine at it.

Except for this:

He's not doing so well there.

Here it is from a different angle:

That's how you snap your knee ligaments and get to stay dry for the next 3 months.  On your first wave at Gnarloo.  Ahem...first wave of the season, at Gnarloo.  That place is mental

So, seeing as this blessed country is calling tomorrow a public holiday (no idea which one), and we've planned a multi day hike for the rest of the week, this post concludes our brief, impromptu, Ry Craike Beat-down week.

And do check out http://rycraike.com/.  It's well worth it and the guy really rips. 

That fine line

Ok.  Look at Ry Craike over there and imagine his life about then.  Ry surfs goofy, so I'm not sure how he got himself in that position.  Maybe he took off switch foot.  Maybe he did not.  Any way, he's about to take it.  Hard.

Anyway, ignore him.  Just pretend he's not in the picture.  Now look at the wave.  Now look back.  Imagine you on that wave.  How sick would that be. Very sick.  That much.

Now imagine you are Ry and you could be screaming down that face, but you're not.  Instead you're just screaming.  And you wish you weren't because you're going to need fully inflated lungs in the next few moments.

That's the fine line.

Pic by Andy Foxx from this guy.

A Silent Set

It will never be a pure, but compared to the background din of traffic and voices in the city where you live, it might as well be silent.  The shore and the sea compose a backing track to the otherwise quiet world.  In the windless air, the sounds pass easily to your ears.  But apart from that, there is nothing else in this haven.

From the quietness, a set appears.  It's only discernable by the shifting colours as it rushes unheralded below the surface.  You splash to prone position and push your hands through the water.  The disturbance creates pools of sound, but these self made swirls are drowned as you feel the ocean draining off the reef below you.  The first wave rears up with serpentine poise, mesmerising you with its gaze and smooth skinned curves.

From Liquid Mocean

Effortlessly, it flicks forward and in an instant the soft washing on the shore is shattered with a crack and the stung reef roars in agony.   Still captivated by the sight, you watch the furore between the force unstoppable and the object immovable.  The barrel twists towards you and the beast on top exhales, a loud hiss of spray covers you and the world is all mist and noise.  You feel yourself slide over the back and you keep on stroking.  Another stealthy creature lies in wait.  Maybe its your wave.  Maybe you're its prey. 

The serenity seems like a lifetime ago, but that's doesn't matter.  The noise of the other world you left is pushed even deeper into depths of memory, and the clashing around you resonates within and hums in every sinew.

Its Friday.  Charge hard - on land and at sea.

Dane Reynolds - doing what he does

I've admitted on a few occasions to having a bit a of a Dane Reynolds crush.   If I was a teenage girl, I'd probably spend an great deal of time scribbling his name in different fonts, with different coloured pens, through my notebook and surrounding it with hearts, glitter and stuff like that.  My pencil case would be covered in stickers and the inner walls of bedroom would be adorned with posters of the man - shirtless, flashing his mesmerising smile.  I'd be the girl with a thing for moustaches.  I'd have an anchor tattoo somewhere naughty and then have a shouting match with my uncaring parents when they saw it and then storm back to my Dane cave to spend some QT with my favourite hunk.

OK, i'm done for now. 

Right, afte dropping out of tour and underperforming for my fantasy surf team - he was a good a buy, I wasn't the only one to admit it, Dane has released another video of himself doing what he does best.  Just surfing a beachy close to home, and smashing the hell out of it.  Cramming more moves into a wave, than I will over an entire session, swell or season. You need to see this:

http://www.mediafire.com/?42yxzdqyjqlpl0p.  Sorry, just can't embed the video here, and I have tried.  For a while now.

From Marine Layer Productions (you owe it to yourself to burn some bandwith there)

The question they pose is: Is Dane Reynolds the best surfer in the world.  Most of the guys commenting below seem to agree, if not whole heartedly, at least in part.  I disagree.  I disagree with the whole notion of being the best surfer.  I'd like to think Dane would agree.  That's why we'd make such a good couple.  It's definitely been said here and I'll say it again:  The best surfer in the water is the one having the most fun.  And that is where Dane has an edge.  He surfs like he's wanting to have fun.  He doesn't look like he's doing it to impress anyone, although the result is the same.  Sure, he's got to get the coverage to make his sponsors happy, but the way he just lets loose and everything falls into place is something that's unique to him.

So, the best surfer in the world?  Why measure it in an objective scale?  First and last, baby!  It doesn't fit the model.  My best surfer in the world?  Easily.  And you're welcome to disagree, and I won't bother to argue with you after that.

The teller of lies

Ah, time for a little rant.  Just a little one.  What's the the diminutive of rant? Rint? Rantie? Runt?  I digress.

Back in the day, boffins were building these machines called computers.  Until then, computers had actually been a profession for the guys who were the most good at maths.  At the time, IBM reckoned the world market for computers would be in the single digits.  They were most amped on using them for defence.  But, they were also pretty amped that they could forecast the weather - years into the future.

When they started realising that they would fall short, a new theory was born to explain why - Chaos theory.  A butterfly flaps its wings...and all that.  The crux is, there are too many variables, and too much data for even today's supercomputers to handle. 

But, as surfers, we put an inordinate amount of trust in forecasting websites.  You know the ones I'm talking about.  The one's that drag you out of bed in the cold and dark and make you spend two hours driving in the wrong direction.  The one's that make you miss your child's birth, first day at school, or expulsion hearing.  The information that leads to a thousand phonecalls, emails, sms's, bbms, whats apps and eventually to one bad decision.  Those ones.

Lying assholes.

They do get it right occasionally, but now in the change of seasons, they are woefully out.  My own theory is there's just too much going on meteorogically in this seasonal wobble for the models to reliably spit it out there. 

As a result, this morning, I left home packing a four board quiver extending up to 8'3".  I ended up surfing my twin-finned fish.  Fun, yes.  I had two really fun waves and so I write with the smile of someone who started the day with a wave.   I'll still be smiling when may face lands in my pillow much later this evening. 

But, when you march out the door packing heat, and return a few hours later with big boards still dry, you've got to feel like a bit of a chop.  And I lay that blame (yes, i'm pointing fingers at others) at the feet of the few forecasting sites i regularly trawl.  Assholes.

Of course, the real solution is to bone up on the original meteo data, learn what it means by study and practice, and then use your intuition to work out what the hell is going on that way.  In the meantime, I'm just going to curse my own dependency on relying on free stuff online.

Happy wednesday.  And enjoy this pic below.  My surf this am had very little to do with it.

via No complaints if I rocked up here expecting something else.

Just a classic

and so it needs a place here.

 

.

I'm not sure if Hot & Glassy, or Sleek Zeke the Peak are my best characters.  Swell Mel also looks pretty cool, but I reckon the swell character needs to be more angry, or at least have an evil form that comes out from time to time, like when he feeds off the frustration of surfers in small gutless waves. 

Man, I just want to flip through the non-existent pages behind that cover.

Original artwork by Rick Griffin.  Follow the link and check his work out.

New sport: Mixed Synchronised Eating-it

Symmetry is beauty, and this is beautiful symmetry.  Near perfect.  The unknown guy on the left (right side of picture) has left his board in the wrong place.  For max points, it needs to be above his head, fins aiming at his skull, just like his partner on the right (left side of frame).  However, more experienced adjuicators will notice someone in the foreground punching down and through.  He gets bonus points for endangering this poor soul.

And of course, we don't publish pictures of Pipe with giving credit to the ultimate star in this performance category.  Take a bow, my legendary friend, and be sure to hurt someone as you bend over so majestically.

New Olympic sport for 2016?

*I was meant to mention who the photographer, and girl are, but i've forgotten and can't find the source of the pic.  Sorry.  Please enlighten me if you know who.  The guy is that 'unknown' surfer who gets around a lot.

How to order a gun

A transcript of a conversation between my mate Rob and DVG

DVG: Hello?
Rob: Hey Dave, Rob here
DVG: Hey Rob! What's up?
Rob: I need a gun for Sunset.
DVG: Ok, we're talking a 9'6"
Rob: Ok...sweet.
DVG: Is there anything else?
Rob: Not really...Oh, ja: Make it lumo orange.
DVG: Ok, cool.
Rob: Cool. Cheers.
DVG: Later, man

Done.

a thousand words...maybe more

I'm not going to try to add to this.  Just let your mind do the wandering through this image.

Courteousy of Jonothan Van Der Knaap, Australian who's ancestor was probably asleep when they docked in Cape Town.  And here's a link worth checking.

"Man, I love this time of year."

I overheard someone say it this morning.  It could have been in the parking lot, or the backline.  I'm not really sure.  But it rang true.

"Man, I love this time of year."

It is the best few weeks to be in the Cape.  The windy summer is switching to the wet, windy winter and the autumn is made of calm, mild days with the occasional groundswell to just create that perfection that keeps you hoping the rest of the year.

I've had a few days like that already.  I had to miss yesterday - too stiff from the weekend.  Bummer.  But, I made up for it today with a barrel feast like I've seldom gorged myself on.  A favourite beach break.  Multiple peaks.  And a thin crowd spread between them.  Waves for everyone.  Stoke on toast.  On each paddle out, guys were just getting slotted.  I've never so many smiles in a line up.  Man, it's a good time to be alive, outside and wet.

I got a few great cover ups.  I didnt make it out of any.  But, that would have just been the cherry.  I got pretty deep in a few.  I got clipped across the head more often than not, too.  I surfed until I couldn't push myself to my feet.  I've never had club foot so bad.  Walking on the beach felt like walking on a lilo, I was so unstable.  I had so little energy, that even wearing a full suit in the sun, my body struggled to warm itself.

It was a good day.  And there's so many more to come over the next few weeks.  

Picture by Nic Bothma

Hanging with Aonyx capensis

It seems to be a recurring theme here - there's so much more action than just the surf.

A few weeks ago I waxed on/waxed off about surfing under the rainbow with the dolphins.  I'm sure there was a centaur in there somewhere as well, but maybe that happened later in the evening. 

Well, this weekend had it's own treats in store for us.  I began saturday with a little beach clean, which turned out to be a big one.  Greg, of Blouberg Beach Clean, really did well to spread the word and drew a good crowd to the Seli on Saturday.  I was a bit late, so I asked what area I could take on.  He said the immediate area was pretty well covered, but if I wanted to, I could drive out a bit further.  I had a place in mind.

So I enlisted Anna and Jacques (just met them) and we cruised on up to a spot just before melkbos where the wind seems to bring it all in.  You could fill a bag from each scalloping on the beach.  It took five of us (joined by another couple) about 45mins to fill the back of my bakkie.  Sies.  But it just goes to show.  We didn't even really scratch the surface.  There's also a corner up here where the rocks just collect it and you could probably wade through waist deep plastic if you were that way inclined.

We headed back to base and saw that the one ton goal was easily met and then surpassed somewhat.  My bakkie was re-enlisted to help remove some of it for sorting and weighing and that what we couldn't fit in was unfortunately left for the council to take away and dump.  After washing some reeking ammoniac siffness of my bakkie, it was time for some me-time.

I picked up James and we hitched up the jet ski.  I figured I'd earned it and could blow off a little karma.  The aim is to develop the tow-surf basics.  Which are challenging.  Get going on the board is hard work without straps.  Towing properly is even harder.

But the other aspect to it is the amount of coast and ocean you get to see with it.  We opted to launch at  public slipway a bit out of town and went round the point to a bit-out-of-way beach.  Just going round the point you get to see so many sea birds doing their thing.  Gannets, penguins, comorants, gulls, terns... you actually need a checklist.

The real highlight was when we came back.  James was holding the ski and I was fetching the trailer.  In the back ground I spotted something swimming low in the water.  I figured out pretty quickly what it was: a shy friend of our - the Cape Clawless Otter, Aonyx capensis for the geeks.  Shy, mostly nocturnal and elusive, they're often there, but seldom seen.  (Not to be confused with the Grot Otter, an altogether different nocturnal creature, that may seem friendly on the night, but the charm wears off around dawn.)   I'll often see otter tracks around, but can  only recall a handful of occasions when I've met them.  If you're doing the dawnie around Kommetjie, you may meet an elderly couple, the Otter Spotters who are out everyday at dawn looking for the low-slung water dogs.  They only get a sighting every so not-so-often.

Just never as perfectly frammed or in focus.

I managed to get a video on the GoPro.  We'll see how badly that came out, so  stay tuned for an update.

The moral: Even in today's noisey, hydrocarbon fuelled society, nature is still happening all around us.  And, if you pay attention, it will reward you more than you know it.

Thanks Kirsten Frost for what must have been a very satisfying picture to take

friday inspiration

you get that question from time to time.  it's usually preceded by the statement: I want to learn to surf.  Then the follow up is: But, is it difficult.

and I answer, and I think you would agree, that: Yes, it is difficult.  But its worth it.  I know its difficult, because after years of trying it, I'm still not very good.  there's still a lot I do wrong.  But, having said that, I'm a long way up the learning curve, but that curve stretches out before me and I still have much further to go.  And every session presents challenges for me.

So, it's great to see someone who has presented with a challenge in everyday life, but still takes up the gauntlet of surfing and revels in it.  I wrote a strory a while back about an old surfer who was blinded by cataracts, and the narrator would talk him through his own sessions.  In it, I said that the 2 essentials in surfing are a wave and vision.  I was wrong.  Check this guy out.

That is inspiration to say the least.  And you can't whine about conditions being unfavourable ever again.

Winter Is Coming

I've actually watched very little of this Game and Thrones thingy, despite being quite a fan of the genre and having heard its quite good.  But, this happens when you don't have a TV.  Yet, there's a premise to it that I'm aware of:

Winter is coming.  And I like it.

Here's Sean Bean, gazing over a favourite deep-water reef, wondering whether his 7'4" is up to the task.  I have no idea why he brought his sword along, or what happened to his dog.

Its the first of March.  We can officially start thinking about autumn and the groundswells that herald the return of the fabled season.

Yesterday, was the first time in a long time that I got proper scared, gazing into the maw of a barrel that I wanted no business with.  I got inside at one point, and had that feeling of knowing that an unpleasant few moments are about to happen.  That helplessness of being mauled in the deep, dark.  Breaking the surface, and scanning for your board and hoping that its still whole.  These are all good feelings.  I've missed having them.

Multiple swells lined up in the forecast.  The clanking of that bottle of OB's under the car seat grows louder.  Doubt creeps upon you like a clean-up set. 

We surfed a new spot yesterday.  Close to home.  Challenging.  I hope to acquaint myself with it over the next few months.

This morning we were on the cold road before lightfall.  We headed for a fairly regular winter point.  It has a hell paddle out.  My problem with it is I have a good record on it.  And sooner or later, my luck will run out.  I got out clean again this morning.  I had a good adrenalin surge to the point where my legs were shaking when I reached the clear ocean.  It's a lot better than a cup of coffee in your veins.  When the sun broke over the ridge, there was the added challenge of the glare on boiling, ledging take-off.  We all stacked a few as result.  It was good fun.

I can't wait for it all; that heady, frosty mix: Fear. Doubt. Thresholds met, pushed, and exceeded.  Hard decisions.  Fatigue.  Fury.  Exhiliration.  Commeraderie.  Well blended and topped with driving rain and spindrift.  Served in single helpings.  And always making you swallow hard.

Courteousy: Elmo Hernandez