The tide was rising and the beach was narrowing fast. The cliff on our right flank looked unclimbable, especially in the late afternoon of a long, hard hike. Had we somehow missed the ladder?
But then an exultant yell came back from the front where two of my boys had forged ahead – ladder ahoy!
It was surely the most beautiful installation of its kind in the world, we decided: a long, stout rope with a buoy on the bottom end and the other snaking up the dune cliff to a polywood staircase silhouetted against the dipping sun.The boys went up hand over hand, agile as monkeys, and I followed more slowly, as it was my turn with the heavy pack, leaving the hungry waves far below, breaching cool shadow into glorious sunshine.
We bivouacked half way up a dune beneath a trail post with its comforting black-and-white hiking boot sign and were just sampling some Provitas dunked in a jar of peanut butter when, timing their entrance to perfection, three whales hove into view about a kilometre out to sea, moving west to east, lazily leaping and crashing down in the deep blue swell.
They seemed to have patches of white on them and we speculated that they could even be orcas, but eventually decided that they were Southern right white whales and the white bits were the collosities or callouses characteristic of the species.
We were on the two-day 32km Alexandria Hiking Trail, flagship of the Woody Cape section of the Addo Elephant National Park, one of the most unique trails in South Africa and probably even globally.
We had set off at dawn that morning from the SANParks guest house where we had spent the previous night.
We had warm clothes, food, sleeping bags, water and the hiking hut key – and a park ranger from reception intercepted us as we tramped out, to check on the last two especially.
Where we were going was out on a limb and we needed to be prepared.
Ten minutes later, we came across two bushbuck ewes standing wreathed in mist just a few metres from the path, a lovely omen for a great hike ahead, surely.
They stared at us before moving off, picking their way through the dew-wet grass.
Soon we were into the indigenous forest walking between huge trees anchored by roots thick as pythons which now and then reared above the soil beneath piles of brown, golden and crimson fallen leaves.
Old man’s beard and monkey ropes dangled overhead, and colourful fungi like little pizzas decorated the fallen timber.
There was a blanket of wintery stillness but the bush rustled periodically as we startled an animal, and occasionally birds tokked and whistled.
A crested francolin scurried ahead of us for some distance, now and then stopping to see if we were still on his tail, before eventually veering off the path.We got down to the beach at peak low tide – so just right to make it around the distant promontory before the high tide cut off access to the ladder.
It was a wonderful feeling to take off our boots and open our stride.
The way was wild and empty.
Ploughsnails glided along the waterline, gulls drifted overhead and flocks of cormorants and African black oystercatchers tracked our passing.
Later, after the whales, we struck out westward along the clifftop through hedgerows of coastal fynbos.
Just as the sun was setting, we reached the hut, which was beautifully situated in dense forest, high on a dune looking directly out at Bird Island.
There was no electricity or running water, so we collected water from the tank, lit candles and worked out the gas stove.
I unveiled a tray of warthog chunks from Westvill Deli in Port Elizabeth and together we conjured up a stew with carrots, tinned veg, rice and a dollop of red wine.
The result was stupendous and even more so because we knew how, with each mouthful, the weight of the big rucksack was getting lighter, was being reduced.
The boys retired to their bunks with books and headlamps and I sat on the deck with a whiskey and rainwater and watched the spotlight in the Bird Island lighthouse sweeping the briny darkness.
When we set out that morning, we noticed that the surf down to our right and stretching eastward up the coast was a strange light green colour.I found out later from Addo park conservation manager John Adendorff that this was a diatom algae common in the area as a result of fresh water dune aquifers flowing into the sea.
It was these same aquifers which allowed early seafarers to draw fresh water from upwellings in the bay.
It was this algae which formed the base of the bay’s food pyramid and underpinned its incredible biodiversity, Adendorff explained.
This marine treasure chest ranges from the humble sardine to the great white shark, not forgetting the Cape gannet (Bird Island being its biggest colony globally) and the African penguin (which has its global stronghold in the bay).After half an hour of walking we were into the Alexandria Dune Field, a “dune sea” spanning 15,800ha and stretching over 80km in length with a width of up to 5km in places – the largest and least degraded coastal dune field in the southern hemisphere.
We hiked for four hours through this moonscape.
Some dunes were as smooth as cream, some rippled in unending concentric patterns by the wind.
In the slacks, wands of grass traced Delphic signs in the sand and we identified possible spoor of jackal, duiker, a snake and a myriad little rodents, one track revealing, we fancied, the hopping gait of the mythical pygmy hairy-footed gerbil.
A couple of times we crossed through expanses of shells. I knew from my reading that these were 3,000-year old middens left behind by the strandlopers.
These folk were not a separate race it seems but rather San and Khoikhoi people who at certain times of the year descended from their inland homes to the coast to dine on shellfish, and these were the ancient remains of those feasts.
We marched across the sands of time towards the distant forest, thinking of dinner.
Must know info Alexandria Trail
When you’re planning your Alexandria Trail, try to make the low tide work for you.
The aim is to give yourself as much of it as possible, making for nice firm sand along the 8km beach. It should also still be low enough to allow you to round the promontory and get to the ladder. If the tide is too high then you will need to instead angle up off the beach before the promontory.

You need to carry all your own water for each leg. There are several huge rainwater tanks at the Woody Cape Hut but supply is still limited so the call is to use this water only for drinking and cooking.
The cosy hut has two bedrooms with three double bunks in each and plenty of candles, a gas stove and pots, cutlery and crockery. What more could one ask?
The two-day Alexandria Trail is 36km and the leg out is 19.5km which makes the return a mere 13.5km. But this second leg is arguably equally strenuous because of the section across the dunes.
To get to the SANParks reception where you need to check in for the trail take the N2 east from Port Elizabeth and then branch off on the R72 to Port Alfred at Nanaga.
Just before Alexandria, look for the sign to the right to the Woody Cape section of the Addo park and then follow the signs on the dirt road. It’s an easy hour and a half drive in total from the metro.
To facilitate a dawn start you can check into the Woody Cape Guesthouse and you can book for both the trail and the guesthouse through Camp Matyholweni telephone 041-468-0916/8 or matyholweni@sanparks.org..