Looking for a Cartographer to Map the Roads of the West Coast

Hey there! Just wanted to share my thoughts on this incredible Coast2Coast4CANSA journey I’ve been fortunate enough to be a part of. We’re nearing the end of this adventure, with maybe just four nights left. But you know what? I can’t help but secretly hope that a wild weather system comes along and delays our return to the everyday grind. I know it’s a tad selfish, considering some of the guys have important appointments and commitments waiting for them at home. But seriously, who wouldn’t want to extend an amazing road trip like this?

I mean, think about it – we’ve traveled all the way from the Eastern borders of South Africa to almost reaching the Western borders. That’s pretty darn impressive, don’t you think? And as I soak in the beauty of the West Coast, the guilt of wanting to stay longer quickly fades away.

I’ll never forget the incredible impact we’ve had on both fundraising and raising awareness about cancer. But apart from that, my trip to the KZN South Coast has been filled with unforgettable memories. And I’m pretty confident that the Lambert’s Bay Harbor Master won’t be forgetting us anytime soon. Unfortunately for him, it was at his harbor where I finally got my hands on a jet ski after weeks of waiting. For a few minutes, I couldn’t resist the temptation of tearing up the ‘No Wake Zone.’ But soon enough, I realized that the harbor master’s frantic arm waving and shouting were directed at me. Turns out, I was the only idiot crazy enough to be speeding around the harbor at 40 kmph in the freezing wind and rain.

Let me tell you a crazy story about a wild adventure known as the “Fuel Wars” between Jason Ribbink and Barry Lewinsky. It all happened a few days ago when we were heading to Lamberts Bay. Now, here’s the thing: Barry was the only one who made it to the harbor on his own. The rest of us, including Jay, ran out of fuel right outside the entrance. Can you believe it?

Picture this: Jay was trying to guide us through some enormous 10-foot waves, leading the way via the Tiger Line. But before we could reach safety, Trigger Ribbink’s tank suddenly went dry. Can you imagine the frustration? Not only did he run out of fuel, but nobody else followed him. Poor guy was left stranded in the impact zone, like a bobbing cork in the sea.

Thankfully, Trigger managed to save himself and the jet ski, but it wasn’t easy. It took him a whole hour and some ‘mikkies’ (whatever that means) to recover from the shock. I mean, who wouldn’t be traumatized after such an experience?

Barry might have won the “Fuel Wars,” but Jay was determined to get some payback. On our drive back to our accommodation in Lutzville from the beaching site at Brand se Baai, a popular radio station presenter called for a pre-recorded telephone interview, which had been scheduled earlier that day. Russel and Mark, who I usually rely on for interviews, were in the other vehicle, so I handed my phone to Jay. He took the call and began with, “Hey, this is Barry Lewin, and I have something really important to share with you…”. Luckily for Barry, Jay wasn’t too affected by his recent dosage of ‘mikkies’ and Red Bull, so taking the phone from the sluggish Ribbink and conducting the interview himself wasn’t much of a challenge.

No road trip is complete without getting lost at least once. Nowadays, it seems like GPS devices don’t come with detailed maps of the dirt roads on the West Coast. I spent a good three hours today speeding around gravel roads in and around Brand se Baai and Lutzville with no idea where I was headed. Believe it or not, I was trying to find a stick stuck in the ground with a beer bottle on top. Lance had used it to show me the sandy track that led to the correct beach. The first time I drove right past it, he and Bennie watched from the beach, probably talking about the “crazy person from Natal.” Truth be told, I didn’t even see the bottle-stick marker because I wasn’t really looking for it. Instead, I was just taking in the magnificent and untamed beauty of the West Coast. The sand track I was on was only a few meters away from the beach, the rocks, and the crashing waves. When I finally found Lance and Bennie, and their primitive road marker, Zulu shook his head and said, “Looks like things aren’t going too well for you, huh?”

When I gaze up at the African sky on a winter night, free from the bright lights of the city, I am awe-struck. Lutzville, where I currently find myself, is one such place where this experience is particularly breathtaking. In the midst of my busy days, running around like a maniac for the past 23 days, I still make a point to find some time for reflection. Call me a hippie if you want, but I believe that late at night, when all is calm, you have the opportunity to clear your mind and contemplate the thoughts that occupy your subconscious during the chaotic daytime hours. As another blogger once mentioned, “In the cover of darkness, anywhere can become everywhere…”