Two new videos are doing the rounds about the Long-Term Coastal Protection Scheme — and both are well worth a watch. Instead of choosing one, we thought we’d show you both, because they tell the story of our changing coastline from two very different but equally passionate perspectives.
Trevor Hansen – Next Offshore Adventure
Trevor Hansen was born and raised on St Francis Bay’s main beach. He produces the Next Offshore Adventure series on YouTube — and if you haven’t subscribed yet, do yourself a favour. Trevor has been documenting the sand and beach nourishment progress, the groyne builds, and the new waves forming as the coastline reshapes itself. Living in J-Bay, he’s seen the effects of sand erosion firsthand, and that’s part of what drives him to keep filming. His knowledge of St Francis runs deep, his commentary is candid, and his clips manage to balance nostalgia with technical insight.
(Watch his latest update below, ‘New Pier In St Francis.’)
Brad Peens – Down the Line
Then there’s Brad Peens, whose YouTube channel Down the Linehas become a quiet favourite among St Francis surfers. Brad’s footage is all about waves — pure, clean, no frills. When Bruce’s lights up, he’s there. When some half-forgotten corner starts firing, someone sends a message, and Brad somehow appears — camera in hand, before the crowd knows it’s on. Affable and easy-going, he’s part of the fabric of the local surf scene. He’s great with the groms, knows where to stand for the best light, and has that instinct for when to press record. His channel is a must-add to your subscriptions if you want a locals-eye view of our coastline.
In the end, groynes bring waves, waves bring smiles, and YouTube brings proof.
When the temperature rises, the village gently loses its mind.
Summer has arrived, and logic has left the building with Elvis. It’s a warm few days, and suddenly everyone’s outside behaving like they’ve been trapped indoors since 1997.
Lawnmowers roar. Hedge trimmers are out en masse (thanks, neighbours). Men with caps backwards are surreptitiously washing cars, and some middle-aged early retiree Joburg crypto bro is shirtless and sanding the deck in the sun on his new-build house, even though that deck is immaculate.
It’s contagious. I saw it all, got antsy and tried to tidy the garage, but luckily found my blue beach chair (you know the one) halfway through and sat down to “plan the next phase.” That phase never came. Ten minutes later, I was drinking something cold, refreshing, watching everyone else’s productivity collapse in real time.
Got a lot done
Because that’s what happens. The town bursts into solemn activity, burns out before lunch, and we all end up at the beach around a braai by 2 p.m., explaining to anyone who’ll listen that they “got a lot done.” Dogs wander between the smoke clouds, kids are sunburned, and someone’s lost their car keys, or their wife.
The conversations are all the same.
“How hot is it?”
“Eish, hectic.”
“Can’t complain.”
“Beer me please.”
Then we all complain anyway, just to keep it balanced.
By Sunday evening, the lawns are half-mown, the tools are abandoned, and the beer fridge has taken a pounding. But it’s fine. This is how we do summer, with enthusiasm, zero follow-through, zero guilt and just enough chaos to feel alive.
We’ll start projects strong again next weekend. Or maybe we won’t. It depends on how early the wind comes up.
Because this is St Francis Bay: half action movie, half afternoon nap.
Surf season has finally landed, which means the beaches are busy, the car parks are full, and everyone suddenly has a board under their arm. It’s like herding kittens, actually. It kicked off with the Seal Point Boardriders Club Championships, which as usual was half serious sporting contest and half family picnic with beer. The usual mix of groms, dads, and local legends took to the water to argue about priorities: wave scores, sunscreen, or whose dog ate the boerewors rolls. Even The Editor got a third in his division (the judges must have been high..)
GromSearch
Hot on its heels comes the Rip Curl GromSearch, also at Seal Point. Four events around the country and this is the big finale. Nothing says “surfing destiny” quite like a 12-year-old working on a combo situation before breakfast. The winners in the U16 divisions get their golden ticket to the International Final in Europe, which is basically a free pass to surf better waves than the rest of us for a while (‘that part of Europe’ fires at this time of the year).
And because surf season has no brakes, the SA Junior Champs at J-Bay fire up immediately afterwards. Yes, The Point will be overrun by kids who still need lifts from their moms. It’s the one event where you’ll see future WSL stars sitting in the lineup next to someone who had to borrow wax. Parents will cheer, judges will frown, coaches will gesticulate, someone will wail, and there will be wringing of hands and gnashing of teeth, all in the name of fun.
Groms shredding
So here we are: October, peak surf season. Groms shredding, parents pacing, locals complaining vociferously about crowds. Still, everyone wins, except for the non-competitive surfing family who booked that house on the Point for a chilled weekend and didn’t check the contest calendar beforehand.
The calendar says it’s spring. The air suggests it’s still winter. October 1st in St Francis Bay is less a clean turning of the season than an awkward shuffle, the kind where nobody is quite sure whether to pack away the jackets or light the fire.
The mornings remain pretty dark, cold, and windy enough to discourage even those few ‘enthusiastic’ joggers. But by midday, people have convinced themselves it’s warm enough for shorts, and the hardware stores report a sudden spike in sales of fertiliser and pool chemicals. Seasonal optimism, St Francis style.
Some residents take no chances: board shorts with a beanie. A practical compromise that says, “Legs are ready for summer, but head doesn’t believe it.” It’s not fashionable, but it’s a uniform of belief, summer is on the way, even if the wind is cutting in sideways.
The beaches begin to fill again. Surfers debate wetsuit thickness like it’s geopolitics: 4/3 or 3/2? Booties or bravado? Nobody wins, except the wetsuit companies.
Everyone claims to be tired of winter, but winter had its perks, didn’t it? Quieter beaches, not full pubs, and traffic that meant waiting behind exactly one bakkie at the stop street. October threatens all of that with its slow trickle of hopeful holidaymakers and the “just down for the weekend” crowd.
And yet, despite the grumbling, there’s no denying that it feels better. The days stretch longer. The ocean looks a shade more welcoming. The sky carries just enough promise that someone, somewhere, is already lighting the first braai of the season at 3:30 p.m. unnecessarily early, but symbolically important.
We have a small window before the holiday makers start arriving, and an even smaller window before every tradesperson in the village becomes too busy to answer their phone. Make the most of it. October is a great month in St Francis Bay
We live in clichés. We think in them, we talk in them, and we often write in them without even realising it. They’re the ready-made furniture of the mind, comfortable to sit on but prone to sag. Sometimes the only way to shake them off is to lean all the way in, roll around in them, and get it out of your system. So consider this a cathartic purge, an unapologetic wallow in the most threadbare phrases imaginable to explain why the editor of St Francis Today is taking about ten days off.
“The time has come. You can’t burn the candle at both ends forever. The well has run dry, the tank is empty, the batteries are flat, and the wheels are coming off. The treadmill keeps turning, the hamster keeps running, but eventually, even the hamster needs a nap. He’s been spinning plates, juggling chainsaws, and trying to herd cats while putting out fires in a leaky boat. The daily grind has become the daily grindstone, and the axe is well and truly dull.
Empty Cup
At the end of the day, you can’t pour from an empty cup. You can only kick the can so far down the road before you trip over it. And while Rome wasn’t built in a day, it also won’t collapse just because the editor takes ten. The show will go on, the sun will rise, the tides will turn, and the inbox will still be overflowing when he gets back.
So yes—the curtain has fallen, the typewriter is silent, and the newsroom lights are dimmed. He’s put the pen down and picked up his board and wetsuit. It’s not goodbye, just a pit stop, an extended surf session, a chance to catch his breath, sharpen the saw, and come back guns blazing.
Elvis has left the building.”
*
Subject: Out of Office – Editorial Desk
From:The Editor To:Valued Reader
Out of Office Auto-Reply
Thank you for your enquiry. The editor is currently unavailable. He will be away for ten days, finding himself.
Please note: all messages sent during this period will be ignored with the utmost professionalism. Any replies received before his return are purely accidental.
Confidentiality Disclaimer: This email may contain clichés, sarcasm, or editorial burnout. If you are not the intended recipient, please delete immediately and go for a swim. St Francis Today accepts no responsibility for sudden bouts of sunshine.
Why You Should Definitely Visit Mossel Bay This Winter
Looking for the perfect winter holiday spot where coastal charm meets light industry and a hint of doubtful optimism? Welcome to Mossel Bay, the seaside town that somehow manages to be overbuilt and underwhelming, all at once. It’s where old people thrive, great white sharks cruise the lineup, and nobody’s quite sure if that was fog or just refinery exhaust.
Here are 11 compelling reasons why Mossel Bay should be at the top of your winter travel list.
1. Concrete. The Real Coastal Aesthetic.
Sure, other towns flaunt forests, mountains, and quaint markets, but Mossel Bay knows better. Here, the real attractions are retaining walls, security gates, and tasteful beige paintwork. If you’ve ever wanted to holiday in a place that feels like a secure complex with mild sea views, Mossel Bay delivers, in slabs.
2. There Is a Cool Casino
Forget boring retail therapy, Mossel Bay cuts straight to the action. The Garden Route Casino is your one-stop shop for flashing lights, questionable life choices, and that weird sticky carpet smell that says, “one day I will rue.” You might not win big, in fact, you won’t win, so there’s that.
3. It Has the Oldest Newspaper and a Post Office That’s Literally a Tree
History is alive and well in Mossel Bay, mostly in print. The Mossel Bay Advertiser has been faithfully documenting missing pets, flower competitions, and municipal outrage since the early 1900s, making it one of South Africa’s oldest continuously published newspapers. Think of it as a time capsule, with a classifieds section.
And then there’s the original post office, which is a tree. Back in 1500, sailors left letters in an old shoe under a milkwood for passing ships to collect. It worked about as well as you’d imagine. Today, it’s the town’s most photographed attraction and solid proof that Mossel Bay invented Dropbox 500 years ago.
4. Plenty Of Sharks and Shark Sightings.
Mossel Bay is basically a gated community for great white sharks. They like it here. The water’s warm, and the seals are plump. Bonus: You can go cage diving and stare your own mortality in the face, for a small fee and a bigger panic attack.
A man swimming at Mossel Bay, yesterday
5. The Traffic Is a Spiritual Test
Despite only having a handful of roads, Mossel Bay has somehow mastered the art of total gridlock without growth. School runs, holiday bottlenecks, and end-of-the-day rush to the pub all combine to create a marvellous daily logjam. It is best to determine your optimal travel times.
6. That Deliciously Industrial Scent
Ah, breathe it in. That’s not sea air, friend. That’s the sweet perfume of fishmeal, diesel, and economic development. The scent clings to your car, your dreams, and your Woollies rotisserie chicken. Locals call it progress. You’ll call it something else.
7. Climate So Good It Attracts Absolutely Everyone
Yes, Mossel Bay has one of the world’s most moderate climates, and no, they won’t let you forget it. The weather’s lovely. All the time. They will tell you. Which is why there are a lot of people living there, or thereabouts.
The beautidul climate, that everyone knows about.
8. The Great WhatsApp Web of Mossel Bay
There are hundreds of WhatsApp groups, each more cryptic and exclusive than the last. Want to know why the water’s brown today? Too bad. You’re not on the “Hartenbos North-East Sewer Watchtower B-group” thread. And good luck getting added, as the admins vote at the pub, amidts raucous laughter, on whether newbies are added or not.
9. Everything’s Being Built, Just Not for You
Want to live here? So do a lot of people. Which is why property developers are erecting tasteful estates with names containing ‘fynbos’, ‘lighthouse’, and ‘breakers’ on land where fynbos no longer exists, there are no lighthouse views, and the breakers are 8 km away as the crow flies, and 45 minutes in traffic. You’ll pay coastal prices for distant mountain glimpses or a house in a roadside valley that actually only gets direct sunlight for 30 minutes a day in winter. There is no chance of solar there, but Mossel Bayians don’t need solar (see point 11). Anyway, these houses are built with bigger fireplaces, so there. We did see a house called ‘DankieMaDankiePa,’ which was pretty cool.
10. You’ll Never Run Out of Things to Complain About
Is it the parking at Inner Pool? The price of a cappuccino? The guy doing donuts with his bakkie at midnight outside the boxy flat you’re renting for R2,900 a night? Mossel Bay offers endless opportunities for righteous indignation, which makes it perfect for people who think Cape Town is too pretentious.
11. The Place Where the Lights Never Go Out
Mossel Bay doesn’t get loadshedding. Apparently, it never has. While the rest of the country is braaiing toast in the dark, you’ll be charging your electric toothbrush and streaming vintage rugby uninterrupted. Why? Because Mossgas is right there, and it needs to stay on. It’s not pretty, but it’s reliable.
Lights on at Inner Pool
So this winter, ditch the overhyped tourist traps. Come to Mossel Bay, the town where the surf’s a little sharky, the air’s a little fishy, the Spur is quite lekker, and the electricity’s always on. It’s not perfect, but it’s honest.
Initial Reader Comments
BrendaFourie77
We came for a quiet coastal break. My husband loved the casino. He also loved Mandy at the blackjack table. We’re separating.
⭐☆☆☆☆
Koos_69
Not a single power cut the whole time. I charged every device I own, including my neighbour’s. Ate a Gatsby bigger than my head from the garage at 2 am and saw a man riding a horse down the main street. Five stars.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
ShazFromBenoni
The ocean smells funny, and the beach sand got in my vape. I asked where the beach club was, and someone pointed me to the Pick n Pay.
⭐⭐☆☆☆
VisVisser1972
Good weather, confusing energy.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
Lolla
The dog beach is not properly fenced. Our Pomeranian ran into the waves chasing a seagull, and we had to coax her out using a large Vienna sausage. Also, strong fish smell. My husband thought it was me. Arsehole. Tense drive home.
⭐⭐☆☆☆
Braam_vanB
Nice place, but weird vibes. Got added to a WhatsApp group without asking. Thought it was about municipal updates, but they just keep talking about ‘the gate’ and someone named Alta who ‘knows too much.’
⭐⭐⭐☆☆
Alta
I know nothing about the gate. Please delete that comment.
⭐☆☆☆☆
Poepie
We were told the topless bar was behind the Spar. It isn’t. What is behind the Spar is a very scruffy man called Frikkie who sells homemade vape juice.
⭐☆☆☆☆
PrettySureThatWasntHer
Saw a man staring out to sea, watching the surfers, whispering, ‘She’s still down there.’ No one else seemed concerned.
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