On our way to Pringle Bay, my wife (Annette) and I marvel at the massif of Voorberg behind Betty’s Bay. Caressed by wispy clouds swirling around its peaks, and with the light striking it just right, it instils a sense of awe in us, perhaps similar to what Gauguin experienced when he first witnessed the exotic Tahitian mountains rising tall and defiantly out of the Pacific.
Yes, there are now many houses below these magnificent mountains, but thankfully the venerable slabs of stone themselves have evolved little over the millennia. As happens quite often these days, I’m ruminating over the accelerating passage of time and how quickly, certainly on ground level, the Cape’s landscapes have changed in recent times.
For instance, before the military road (built to ferry World War 2 radar operators to Hangklip and beyond) became today’s busy Clarence Drive, only a footpath linked Gordon’s Bay to Rooi Els, and later Pringle Bay. Back then it was used predominantly by fugitives and runaway slaves who sought shelter inside caves in the surrounding mountains. In fact, it’s claimed that Drostersgat, near the Buffels River mouth on the northern side of Pringle Bay’s crescent-shaped beach, was the crucible of the town’s earliest resident community.
Had Admiral Thomas Pringle (the town is named after him), the 18th-century British commander of the naval base at Simon’s Town, got his way, Pringle Bay might have looked very different today as he wanted to turn it into a thriving agricultural commodities port.
While the towns of Betty’s Bay, Rooi Els and Pringle Bay have grown rapidly over the past few decades, their suburban sprawl has been contained by the narrow ribbons of land available between the coast and the Kogelberg Biosphere Reserve (proclaimed a World Heritage Site in 1998). Though part of the progressive Overstrand Municipality, these towns seemed to have eschewed the notion of taming the coastline with cement walkways; instead you must find your way along a spider’s web of rustic pathways to access the sea.
Our first port of call is the Hangklip Hotel. Here we observe the old barracks for the radar operators of the Special Signal Services, a group of graduate women who scrutinised radar screens from a bunker on the slopes of Cape Hangklip. It was a valiant attempt to guard the burgeoning commercial shipping traffic rounding the Cape — accessing the Suez Canal was considered too dangerous during World War 2 — from the growing number of U-boats in the area.
The radar station at Cape Hangklip became operational in mid-1942 and focused on tracking sea traffic just off the coast of False Bay. It was one of 15 situated in the Western Cape that reported their findings to the central control room (known as “Freddie”) in Cape Town.
While the operators in Cape Town enjoyed city amenities in their off-time, those posted to remote stations like Hangklip and Silversands (near Betty’s Bay) mainly availed themselves of the pristine coastline and outdoor activities, as described by veteran operator Sheila Lloyd: “Bathing was delightful, fishing off the rocks popular, and a lot of crayfish were caught by the men. A 21st birthday party was once celebrated with a braaivleis on the beach beneath a full moon — an unforgettable occasion for those not on shift. The radar operators also enjoyed walking on the mountain slopes below the Hangklip overhang.”
What an adventure it must have been for these young female recruits, particularly at a time when women were so overly “protected” by a patriarchal society. In his article “World War II Radar stations of the Overberg”, Robin Lee tells us of the split pole fence that separated the women’s and men’s barracks at Silversands (the men, mostly tech support guys, were outnumbered two-to-one) which was known as the “chastity fence”.
Annette and I take a walk towards the unmanned Hangklip Lighthouse south of Grootbaai, but every path is blocked with signboards clamouring “Private Property”. Turning our backs on the turquoise waters of this idyllic bay, we head back to Mast Bay (small craft launch from here) and walk east among the nests of seaweed instead. The water seems as clear as it’s probably always been, but the seaweed is littered with bits of rope, plastic and polystyrene that speaks to our oceans increasingly becoming the world’s dumping ground.
Our search for the old radar station takes us out towards the Sea Farm Private Nature Reserve, which blocks the old coastal road to Betty’s Bay. On the way we note a cluster of small buildings about 150m up the southern slopes of Cape Hangklip and I’m pretty sure from the old photos we have with us that these were part of the radar site we’re looking for.
We check into our second-storey apartment in Promontory Road a few hours before sundown. It’s a commodious and eclectically decorated studio space, complete with a swinging leather chair that has my mind wandering somewhere between Grand Designs and Cirque du Soliel. But it’s the 180° views of False Bay and the mountains that steal the show.
The next day we set off to explore the town and its immediate surrounds. First up is a walk along the wild coastal path that joins the southern side of the bay to the main beach. Sitting atop the jagged rocks exposed by the low tide are legions of sea birds — cormorants, terns, ibises, seagulls and black oystercatchers, all squawking loudly to make themselves heard.
Having cleared the cobwebs with a swim we make for the Fomo Fine Art Gallery on the edge of town. Brainchild of the De Beer family, the gallery showcases captivating sculptures in the surrounding fynbos, as well as paintings and smaller sculptures inside. The artworks are world class and, judging by their price tags, it seems they best suit a dollar-based budget.
In the busy little commercial hub of the town we discover many restaurants and pubs, the Ticklemouse biscuit factory shop (unfortunately closed) and an info office. It’s staffed by long-time resident Annemarie Breytenbach. Passionate about the town and conservation, and particularly her rewilding programme that emphasises the reintroduction of fynbos species to keep the local baboon troop fed and out of residents’ kitchens, she is certainly the right person to visit for a more personable knowledge transfer than the internet.
After picking up a couple of books at the local architect’s dual-purpose outlet, we head back to our apartment for a late lunch and a read. I skim through local writer Dorian Haarhoff’s autobiography (Route 77) and I’m enchanted by the message in his poem that resulted from a walk through blackened fynbos veld after a fire: “What in us needs burning?”
It’s a probing question and over sundowners, while sitting on a bench on the rocks at the end of our road, we digest the Haarhoff poem that ends with the inquiry:
we traipse through veld
He speaks. after fire, the fynbos
seeds lie like stars
on black earth.
he asks what in us
needs burning?
Travel Notes
Getting there: Pringle Bay is 87km from Cape Town (Clarence Drive from Gordon’s Bay is one of SA’s most scenic roads) and 59km from Hermanus, accessible via good tar roads.
What to do here: With its rugged beauty and safe swimming beach, this coastal town is the ideal place for a weekend away in nature. For those looking to occupy themselves with other things, the following activities and amenities are on offer: eat out at one of many well-rated local restaurants; fish for your supper off the rocks; visit the Ticklemouse biscuit factory shop; browse for novels and collectable books (some good Africana) at architect Pieter Wasserman’s cosy bookshop; go on a hike on one of the local coastal paths or visit nearby Kogelberg Biosphere Reserve for longer trails; take a drive to nearby Rooi Els for a drink at the popular Drummond Arms or eat at one of a number of restaurants there; visit Fomo Fine Art Gallery and have a good cup of coffee while enjoying the view from the second floor; listen to live music at the weekends at the Hangklip Hotel (Valiant Swart was on while we were there); and enjoy all kinds of water sports, from snorkelling near the mouth of the Buffels River to kayaking, surfing, kiteboarding and everything in-between.
Where we stayed: Suikerbossie in Promontory Road — call Maryn on 082 219 8086.
Suggested further reading/viewing: The Historical Overberg by Chris Schoeman; South African Radar in the Overstrand in World War II by Robin Lee and Women at War by Wim Myburgh.
Other info portals on Pringle Bay: www.pringlebay.co.za and www.pringlebay.info
Best time of year to go: All year around, but February and early March are least windy.
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