In Hondeklipbaai, a man was fined R8,000 for being in possession of West Coast Rock Lobster (WCRL) during the closed season. It sounds like the Beatles song, “I read the news today, oh boy.” Except here, instead of blowing his mind out in a car, the unlucky man’s wallet blew up in court. The West Coast has its share of oddities—poachers and fishermen catching well over their legal limits are just the tip of the iceberg.
Take the diamond rush in Kleinzee, for example. When I visited three years ago, I was stunned to see hordes of artisanal miners scrambling to unearth riches from the earth. They came from as far afield as KwaZulu-Natal and Zimbabwe, setting up makeshift camps that seemed more like something out of a frontier movie.
This wild coast doesn’t just attract fortune hunters. It’s also rife with illegal plant harvesting. In areas near Lamberts Bay, rare succulents like conophytums are stolen by the truckload to feed a booming black market abroad. These tiny plants, prized for their beauty, are often smuggled out of South Africa under the guise of legitimate exports.
Then there are the abalone poachers who work the shoreline under the cover of night, brazenly defying authorities. With its hefty international demand, abalone—or “white gold”—is another key ingredient in this cocktail of crime.
Even stranger, some locals have been caught killing seals for their meat or skins, despite strict laws protecting marine mammals. And let’s not forget the theft of kelp from the beaches, which is often sold to industries ranging from agriculture to cosmetics.
Yet, amid the chaos, there’s also the wonder. Wildflower season turns the arid terrain into a kaleidoscope of colour, and the West Coast’s small, quirky towns hum with stories of resilience and survival. The coast is wild, but that’s part of its charm. Here, you never quite know what the tide will bring in—or who might be waiting to take it back out.
