31. Cove Rock (Hickman's River) to Nahoon Beach

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29 - 30 June 2024

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retracing steps

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As I kept moving, the sections started coming together - both of this walk - but also something bigger. I had 3 “open sections” left on my beach adventure:

• A small section around East London of about 10 - 15km (this hike)

• About 40km between Kob Inn Hotel and The Haven Hotel in the Transkei

• A small section between Mtakathi River Mouth and Shark Point (where my last hike had taken me)

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FRIDAY, 29 June 2024 

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My goal today was to close one of these three remaining sections and have the walk completed except for the last two Transkei sections. And so to walk the beaches of the city where so much started for me: family, working in financial services to name two.

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Cath and seven other ladies from Humewood had arranged a weekend away to Olivewood Golf Estate in Chintsa, near East London. We decided to use my vehicle for the trip, which saved Cath the trouble of organizing transport and gave me the opportunity to complete a vital section. For the weekend, I made arrangements to stay with my friend Leon Hechter, who lives near Hickman’s River in the Cove Rock Estate.

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We left Port Elizabeth at 09:00 and stopped at Wesley’s Farm Stall, located about 10 km past the Hamburg turnoff. We enjoyed a lovely breakfast in the cozy dining area. It was Cath’s first visit, and she was surprised at how busy the place was. From there, we drove directly to Olivewood Golf Estate, where I dropped Cath off at the hotel reception at 14:00.

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The tide was already low at 13:45, and I was racing against the clock to reach Nahoon Corner parking area, the starting point of my walk. The Bats Cave hiking trail could only be done at low tide, and it was not advisable to hike alone due to reports of vagrants and occasional muggings in the area. By 14:30, I arrived at The Reef Café parking area, where I noticed security guards on duty.

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From the car park, I walked down a dune toward East London. The rugged surroundings and the breathtaking view of the sea impressed me immediately. I ventured onto some flat rocks to take photos before continuing south. A narrow passage through the rocks led to a secluded bathing area with a small footbridge over a rocky section. Painted on the bridge were the words: “Welcome to Freedom Beach (Clothing Optional).” The area felt like a protected cathedral, with towering rock walls surrounding it. I had felt all types of naked on this walk this far: afraid, alone, small. Even when reflecting back on walks, and connecting the dots in mind - and not just on a map - it can be intimidating to look at what its trying to tell me - but life whispers to me. From cathedrals.

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At the end of the beach, rough seas had washed the boardwalk away. However, since it was low tide, I managed to walk around the blind corner to another rocky bay. After scrambling carefully over rocks and pools, I reached a cave with a blowhole. Waves crashed into a wall of rock, followed by a loud hiss and a fine spray of water blowing out of the entrance.

I ventured a little further under the cliff and around the corner to see if it was possible to walk all the way to East London. However, the tide was coming in fast, and the wet, slippery rocks made it unsafe. A large wave drenched me from head to toe, and by 15:00, I decided to turn back for safety reasons. I saw remnants of the washed-away walkway above me and caught glimpses of East London city in the background. It was too dangerous to continue on the slippery green rocks.

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On my return, I passed the car park and stepped onto a boardwalk running along the sand dunes around Nahoon Reef toward Nahoon Beach. A surfing competition was being set up, and I passed caravans and scoreboards. A couple took my photo in a large yellow picture frame before I climbed a staircase around the Nahoon Corner rock face.

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From the summit, I enjoyed panoramic views: Nahoon Reef behind me, the vast Nahoon Beach and blue bay below, and the coastline stretching toward Gonubie on the horizon. Nahoon Beach stretched all the way to the Nahoon River mouth. I descended the stairs, passed a landslide area, and walked to the spot where I finished the Surfers Marathon on 11 February 1989—more than 35 years ago.

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Afterward, I walked up a narrow tar road to a second car park and found a gate leading to a footpath into the bush. The well-maintained path led to a wooden lookout point offering a stunning view of Nahoon Beach below and the coastline toward Beacon Bay and Gonubie. The path eventually rejoined the main road near The Reef Café parking area, where I had left my car.

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At 17:00, I reached my car, stripped off my wet T-shirt, dried myself with a towel, and combed my hair. I messaged my family to let them know I was safe, then drove to the East London Ski Boat Club to meet Leon, who had been deep-sea fishing earlier. From the clubhouse veranda, I captured a beautiful photo of the John Vorster Bridge spanning the Buffalo River. I then joined the fishing crew in the boathouse for drinks as they cleaned squid and washed the boat.

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"The road is a school and walking it is the lesson" - William Least Heat-Moon

 

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SATURDAY, 30 June 2024 

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I slept well, but my back felt stiff, and my swollen feet were a concern. After a morning coffee and rusks, I packed bananas, an apple, and 3 liters of water into the bladder of my rucksack. The planned hike from Hickman’s River Mouth to the western harbor pier was relatively flat, with no significant hills.

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Leon dropped me off along Hickman’s River at 08:25. I walked along the path toward the beach, where the river mouth was ankle-deep. I paused to take a photo with Cove Rock in the distance. The sand was soft, and with the tide still coming in, there were no firm, wet surfaces along the water’s edge. The steep slope of the beach quickly caused discomfort in my left ankle. Using my walking stick, I continued slowly, passing two fishermen who hadn’t caught anything yet.

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After 30 minutes, I reached a tidal pool and sat down to rest. Realizing my ankles couldn’t handle the soft sand, I took a footpath leading to the coastal road. Walking on the road was much easier, and my back pain eased with every step.

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By 10:00, I reached the old Grand Prix racetrack, where a go-kart race was underway. I circumvented a barrier but was promptly redirected by two marshals. Instead, I climbed through the fence of a deserted development project and walked through the abandoned water park site. At 10:15, I paused to photograph the project in the background.

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My back and ankles started hurting again, and I was forced to rest on a washed-up tree stump. From there, I could see the West Bank Golf Club and the road along the sea. I resumed walking and encountered an intriguing homemade bait box made from an ice cream container and plastic bottles.

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At 10:50, I reached the tar road, with about 4 km left to the harbor wall. Passing the golf course, memories of playing in all weather conditions flooded back and soothed me, contrasting sharply with the pain I now felt walking on the road.

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The road was in poor condition, riddled with potholes, and the stench of sewage near the municipal waterworks was unpleasant. At 11:25, I reached the harbor wall fence. I reflected on catching my biggest fish—a 10.5 kg garrick—there on 7 May 1980 when fishing inside the harbor was still allowed. Leon followed me for the last 30 minutes and picked me up at the end of the hike, relieving my aching feet.

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The next morning, I could barely walk, but I collected Cath at Olivewood Golf Estate at 14:00. By 18:00, we were safely back in Port Elizabeth, and I could proudly tick off another section of my coastal hiking dream.

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6 June 2025 - same stretch revisted a year later: 

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On the spur of the moment, I drove to East London yesterday to visit my school friends again. Leon Hechter had arranged a small reunion which included Andre Freitag, Hennie Deetlefs, Pieter Muller, Fred Dreyer, himself and me.

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I decided to walk this morning from Eastern Beach to the Nahoon River mouth, and Leon kindly offered to drop me off and fetch me after the hike.

It was a stunning bright, sunny morning and at 08:45 I walked across the footbridge onto Eastern Beach. I followed the shoreline toward Bats Cave and passed a few groups of religious women singing and praying while facing the sea.

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At 09:20 I reached the water pump station and the smell of sewage was really bad. Some pipes were cracked and several drain covers were missing.

The tide was too high to stay on the rocks, so I followed a steep road from the waterworks all the way to the Nahoon lighthouse. The view was amazing—all across the blue ocean—and I could clearly see the harbour wall to the south and the shoreline to Gonubie in the north.

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I explored a short footpath through thick bush (with huge spider webs) and took more photographs before returning to the lighthouse for a rest.

Walking back down the steep road, I was almost at the Nahoon Beach car park when I suddenly realised I had forgotten my walking stick at the lighthouse. That stick has accompanied me for the last 12 years, and without hesitation I turned back immediately, praying it would still be where I left it.

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Twenty minutes later (and 2 extra kilometres), I finally retrieved my stick and happily continued my walk back to the car park. From there, I walked along the beach for about a kilometer before spotting Leon near the Nahoon River mouth. Together we walked along a footpath to the restaurant where we enjoyed a lovely breakfast under the trees.

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There we met another school friend (restaurant owner, Karen Muller), and by 11:15 Leon and I were on our way to his home at Cove Rock again.​​

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