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Starting out in the early morning of September 9th, we found ourselves at a little spot in the (dry) Kuiseb River called Klipneus, with only the Central Namib Sand Sea between us and our destination: the ocean at Sandwich Harbor. (See map, below, with our camp-sites and water-points) We were 6 -- intrepid and daring adventurers all -- ready to take on anything sandy that could possibly come at us. Immediately, we left the cozy dry riverbed behind and began marching west, the sun rising behind us, up to greet our first set of dunes. For about two-thirds of the distance between the river-bed and the ocean the topography consists of linear dunes - line after line of dunes like giant orange waves. The last third of the Sand Sea turns into a maze of dune after dune in no particular order, a vast hilly stretch that we nicknamed "the House of Pain" in grim anticipation.
We expected that we would have to climb up the steep wind-formed dune slip- faces (the steepest slopes of the dune with the loosest sand) while lugging 8kgs of water as well as food, sleeping bags and other accessories like jackets and tents. But when we finally came face to face with our first dune we were pleasantly surprised to find the sand was hard and we could pick our route carefully - winding over the lowest crests, avoiding the steepest ones, and walking around sand-dips and crater-like bowls that would have cost us precious energy. Prior to the hike we had managed to drive out to and bury containers of water at three set-points along the way, and with the help of Google Earth maps and GPSes we navigated through terrain with minimal landmarks.
Map ............................................... Linear Dunes
In the photos, you can see us marching. The best way is to step in each other's footsteps to minimize sliding backwards too much. (Now, wherever I go I still feel the urge to step in the footsteps of the person ahead of me!) But when I was leading the group I got many complaints that my stride was too short, so I started doing funny things -- making my tracks go in meanders, hopping on one foot for a few steps (etc), that everyone had to follow. It was all quite silly (which was in-keeping with the spirit of the hike). It also occurred to us that I get the award for the most steps walked on the hike - 3 for every 2 of everybody else (tall people with long legs)!
Each day we started marching early in the morning and hiked until midday when the heat of the sun forced us to set up tents and nap for 4 hours (we augmented this siesta by stuffing our faces with peanuts and raisins and throwing around a Frisbee.) Then, as the temperature dropped from its mid-day boiling point, we picked up and continued until sunset.
Dune Crest ......................... In the Dunes
The first few "interdunes" we crossed – that is, shallow valleys in-between the linear dunes -- contained light-patterns of desert vegetation. But as we moved closer to the ocean, we saw less and less green. Amazingly, we still saw quite a few critters though. We found a Golden Wheeling Spider perched on top of a dune - so called because of their awesome ability to roll down the dune using all eight feet to whirlwind downwards. We put it on a steep slip-face and poked at it to make it wheel - quite a nifty party-trick. We also found ourselves shocked when, after sighting ostriches in the distance (yes, running around across the 7th dune oceanwards), we passed their footprints in the sand and discovered that their stride reached 2 meters (over six feet)!
Once, while trying to find a bush big enough to pee behind (I couldn’t find one), I startled a speedy Namib Sand Snake. It darted under some twigs and I approached, knowing that it was harmless. Unfortunately I was unprepared for what happened next: the snake coiled itself like a spring and then, to my utter horror, launched itself into the air straight at me! I may or may not have screamed like a small child and ran around in circles swearing while being chased by a jumping snake. By jumping I mean full horizontal, total extension, flying leaps. We eventually caught it in a hat and calmed it down.
And so we passed our time - hiking, napping, eating, refilling water bottles, dodging snakes and so forth. The nights were cold and windy, but it was a sweet moment when, at our second camp site 12km (8 miles) from the ocean, I lay looking up at the stars and brightest moon and realized that the faint yet consistent background noise was the ocean. The third morning, thick fog rolled in, covering our interdune like an impenetrable cold wet blanket. Here we spotted several Fog-basking Beetles (/Onymacris orbicularis/) doing their thing: perching on the top of dunes, butt up in the air allowing fog water to condense on their exoskeletons and trickle down to an eagerly awaiting mouth. Soon the fog made long-distance vision impossible and we were forced to navigate blindly by GPS. Here is also when we left the reassuring guidance of the linear dunes and entered the House of Pain. There was nothing we could do to avoid charging up and down sandy slope after sandy slope (each several stories high), attempting to remember every single summer-camp song, rhyming game and marching cadence we had ever heard to lift our spirits. There were several rounds of the a cappella free-for-all of "Old Joe Clark" (an American folk song), "Amarula" (a popular tune in local !Nama language) and "Don’t You Want Me?" (an 80s dance hit) before we finally scaled the tallest dune yet and to our great joy glimpsed the sweet SWEET glorious ocean for the first time.
House of Pain .................... Fog Basking Beetle
The marine sighting boosted our morale incredibly, and we crossed the remaining 6 kilometers (4 miles) at breakneck speed, pausing only to take a "Safety Break" to hydrate before charging onwards. Our long hours of training prior to the hike kicked in as we sped up and down like Dune Gorillas (a non-existent creature invented solely for the purpose of confusing school groups.)
And finally the ocean spread out in front of us. We pitched tents, tore off our clothes, linked arms and charged into freezing cold water under the watchful gaze of a curious seal. After our siesta we turned south, following the beach towards our final destination. The view that now greeted us was both epic and stunning: A magenta sunset over the ocean, the tide rising and the strip of beach on which we walked narrowing by the minute between the ocean and tall steep dunes. The near-violent waves became unavoidable and I found myself running along the beach when the waves rolled out and running up the dunes when the waves rolled in. Alas, my best efforts to keep only my feet wet were thwarted when a large wave ricochet off a sandy bank and soaked me to my waist. Soon we found a superb campsite halfway up a dune, where a bowl of sand had been hollowed out by wind, leaving us with a view of the ocean and shelter from the wind. Fortunately, we slept deeply that night, because the next morning we noticed brown hyena tracks right near our tents!
Dune meets Ocean
The next morning we made it to Sandwich Harbor - a haven for seabirds such as cormorants, gulls, flamingos and also several very fat jackals. We passed a series of lagoons and an abandoned cabin (haunted by the Sand Witch –ha ha), followed by a long peninsula jutting out into the ocean with a mass graveyard of sea creature skeletons, shells and guano. We reached the end of the peninsula and looked inland across the small bay. We stopped for lunch and ate the most delicious sandwiches ever created with leftover trail food.
Elsita Kiekebusch
Research Technician
Gobabeb Research and Training Centre
P.O.Box 953, Walvis Bay, Namibia
Tel: +264-64-694199, Fax: +264-64-694197
e-mail: elsita.k @ gmail.com
Website: www.gobabebtrc.org
