Skeleton Coast: an Unforgettable Adventure

Have you ever heard of the Skeleton Coast? It sounds like a movie title, right? But it’s not. The Skeleton Coast is a real place, and I had the incredible opportunity to explore this mysterious and captivating land. Let me take you on a journey through this extraordinary destination.

The Skeleton Coast gets its name from the countless shipwrecks scattered along its shoreline, creating an eerie and haunting atmosphere. As I walked along the beach, I couldn’t help but wonder about the stories behind these lost vessels. What adventures brought them here? What challenges did they face? It felt like stepping into a ghostly world frozen in time.

A unique feature of the Skeleton Coast is its desolation. Miles and miles of untouched, barren landscape stretch as far as the eye can see. It’s a stark reminder of nature’s power and the insignificance of human presence. As I stood amid the vastness, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of humility and awe.

But don’t let the desolation fool you. The Skeleton Coast is also home to a surprisingly diverse array of wildlife. Seals bask in the sun, oblivious to the danger that lurks in the ocean. Oryx and springbok graze on the sparse vegetation, adapting to the harsh conditions. And if you’re lucky, you might catch a glimpse of the elusive desert-adapted elephants, a true testament to nature’s resilience.

Exploring the Skeleton Coast is not for the faint-hearted. The harsh climate and challenging terrain test your limits, but the rewards are plentiful. The solitude and tranquility found in this vast wilderness are unmatched. It’s a place where you can truly disconnect from the modern world and reconnect with nature.

As I embarked on my journey through the Skeleton Coast, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the fragility of our planet. The importance of preserving these pristine and untouched landscapes became evident. We must cherish and protect these places, not only for their intrinsic value but for the lessons they teach us about ourselves and our place in the world.

The Skeleton Coast is a truly extraordinary destination. It’s a place where mystery, beauty, and isolation converge to create an experience like no other. If you’re seeking an adventure that will leave you breathless and in awe, look no further than the Skeleton Coast. It’s a journey you’ll never forget.

The Skeleton Coast in Namibia is a place that gives rise to a truly astonishing nightmare. Below the surface of the sea, it teems with life, but on land, it is devoid of almost everything. There is no soil, hardly any living creatures, no towering mountains to be found, and no escape from vast, sun-baked areas of flat stones and sand. And when the wind starts to blow (which is quite often), there is no relief from being pelted by grains of sand the moment you step out of your vehicle.

But the sheer magnitude of the emptiness is awe-inspiring. As our Land Cruiser was being stripped of its paint by the swirling particles, it felt like a futuristic dune buggy crossing an alien planet. It offered us a rare glimpse into what the world might appear like when time comes to an end.

So there I was, starting my adventure on this bizarre slice of African shoreline. It all began in Kamanjab, on a day that caught me off guard with its unexpected public holiday. After exploring the wonders of western Etosha, my supplies were running low, and my options were limited to the only places open in town: a garage and a peculiar little shop on the forecourt.

A sign on the porch caught my attention: “Due to economic cutbacks, the light at the end of the tunnel has been turned off.” And there, on a pillar, was the cheeky proclamation: “Today’s menu: eat it or starve.” Curious and slightly bewildered, I peered inside the shop. I saw strange beverages like Fuse Tea and Afri-Water (I’m still not sure what they are), proudly displayed on the shelves. And just when I thought things couldn’t get any more peculiar, a friendly local approached me with an offer: gemsbok boerewors and Gordon’s gin. Grateful for the unexpected finds, I purchased them without hesitation and proceeded on my journey towards the west.

It felt like forever to reach this turn-off by the coast, driving through barren landscapes. The journey seemed to stretch on and on. Photo by Don Pinnock.

At first, the scenery was relatively normal, with rolling hills and vegetation reminiscent of the Karoo. But as we descended the Grootberg Pass, things became stranger. The road on the other side was devoid of nourishing plants or water, but it was littered with fresh dung from desert elephants.

As we continued, the landscape transformed from steep hills to dry riverbeds that would turn into flash floods if rain ever came. The sparse trees gradually gave way to hardy bushes, which eventually led to vast plains of gravel. Every now and then, we’d come across a welwitschia, an ancient plant that looked like it had been around for a thousand years. Finally, the offices of the Skeleton Coast Park emerged as a small dot on the perfectly level horizon. Beyond that, there was nothing but stone and sand, with the sea stretching out infinitely in all directions.

At a T-junction, I had two choices: go north to Torra Bay, which required permits, or head south to Henties Bay. I decided to go south, but I quickly ran into a problem. The rough road caused a flat tire. The wind was so strong that when I tried to use a high-lift jack to raise the car, it blew it off to the side, and the tires just slid on the gravel.

But I wasn’t ready to give up just yet. I came up with a clever solution. I positioned the back of the car between the bull bars of two other vehicles, jacked it up, and changed the tire.

Traveling along this coast is a challenge. The powerful Benguela current and trade winds relentlessly pound the shoreline day and night. The San people called this area “the land God made in anger,” and Portuguese mariners referred to it as the “Gates of Hell.” The name Skeleton Coast was given to it by John Henry Marsh in his 1944 book, which recounts the shipwreck of the Dunedin Star, and the name stuck.

There’s no shortage of wreckage: whales, ocean liners, trawlers, galleons, clippers, gunboats, rusting diamond mines, and defleshed humans – all symbols of the treacherous current, scorching heat, and relentless winds. Washed up on this shore, the relief of surviving would quickly give way to the terror of your surroundings.

The raw beauty of this place is both captivating and dangerous. I clung to the narrow road, fully aware of a land that is completely inhospitable to human life. If you found yourself stranded on this coast without any help, the sun and wind would drain you of life within days, leaving behind nothing but withered bones that would be exposed for centuries.

Life exists, you know? There are these amazing tenebrionid beetles, chameleons, and lichen that manage to survive by drinking water from the mist of the sea. And let’s not forget about the gemsbok, jackals, brown hyenas, desert elephants, lions, and about 75 species of sea birds. Oh, and seals.

When I visited Cape Cross, I could smell the seals before I even saw them. The sight of around 100,000 of these sleek and grumpy creatures, all making their distinctive ‘arf’ sounds, was simply overwhelming. The best part? They’re not afraid of humans. In fact, if we got too close, they didn’t hesitate to show off their impressive set of sharp teeth.

When I arrived at St Nowhere, a fisherman’s camp managed by Danie van der Westhuizen, I couldn’t help but notice the weathered tin roofs and swirling sand. This place used to be a salt mine, but it’s now been repurposed into a campsite with a few prefabricated cottages. The unprotected campsites seemed vulnerable to the fierce wind that blew through.

Someone in our group, clearly concerned about the conditions, asked if there were any other places to stay nearby. Danie, unfazed by the question, replied, “Yes, of course. There’s another option about 150 kilometers down the coast. But right now, the big cottage here has five empty rooms. Looks like we don’t have much choice.”

It was a memorable evening when two fishermen kindly gave us some delicious geelbek to cook on the grill. We paired it with some refreshing Gordon’s gin from Kamanjab, and the whole experience instantly became much better. The howling wind and crashing waves of the Atlantic were the soundtrack to our cozy night in a warm sleeping bag on a comfortable mattress. As we woke up the next morning, the fierce gale had subsided, leaving behind a pristine beach and a beautiful baby-blue sky. It was tough to say goodbye, but we knew another exciting adventure awaited us.

After enjoying the urban pleasures of Swakopmund for a little while – like savoring a delicious cup of coffee and dining at some fantastic restaurants – we set our sights on finding the Spitzkoppe. As we left, the desert loomed behind us like a mysterious creature from a half-forgotten dream.

When I found myself on the vast expanse of flat land near Usakos, it was impossible to miss the mountain. It rose up high, a majestic heap of granite that reminded me of the Matterhorn, even though it was in the wrong part of the hemisphere. Surrounded as far as the eye could see by sheer flatness, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of delight as I set up camp in the shelter of the mountain’s sturdy embrace. It was like being wrapped in a warm, comforting hug that filled me with pure joy.

Spitzkoppe has an enchanting aura, captivating and mysterious. You can see it in the bustling hustle of the crystal-selling children, who flock at the camp entrance, eager to trade their glistening treasures. But if you know what to search for and where to explore, you’ll discover more than just precious gems. Hidden among the ancient rocks lie fields of age-old tools, remnants of a forgotten time. Inside a cavern, we stumbled upon a mesmerizing mural; an elongated snake gracefully winds its way across the wall, and at its forefront, a shaman adorned with a majestic headdress reminiscent of a cockatiel.

When the night blankets the desert, a celestial spectacle unfolds above. The velvety black canvas is adorned with an abundance of stars and galaxies, as if the universe had sprinkled them across the heavens. They dazzle with an ethereal glow, winking playfully at the edge of the Earth’s edge, casting a spell of wonder and awe. In the depths of this enchanting night, mysterious sounds echo through the camp, stirring my curiosity. My footsteps, light as feathers, guide me down the ladder of my rooftop tent, camera in hand, and a flashlight providing a cautious guide. And there, before me, stood a visitor in the darkness – a magnificent spotted genet, moving with graceful ease. Could it be the shaman himself, transformed into an earthly form?

So there’s this really amazing lodge at Spitzkoppe, designed by architect Ronnie Barnard and run by his daughter Janine. It’s something special, let me tell you.

After leaving Spitzkoppe, the drive to Windhoek via Okahandja was pretty dull. We had been camping in the wild for five weeks, starting our journey in Botswana. Heading towards a city was a bit odd. We had reserved a campsite just outside Windhoek, but my wife gave me a serious look and said, “Let’s keep going.”

At that point, I think she deserved a hotel room with a nice, hot shower and a comfy bed with clean sheets.

Planning your trip to the Skeleton Coast

Getting There

If you’re planning a trip to the coastal part of this route, you’ll need to pass through two parks: Skeleton Coast National Park and Dorob National Park. To get there from the north, take the C40 from Kamanjab to Palmwag and then join the C39. If you’re coming from the south, take the C39 through Khorixas. Once you reach Skeleton Coast Park, enter through the Springbokwasser Gate, which opens at 07:30 and closes at 18:00. You’ll need a transit permit, which costs R60 per person and R20 for a vehicle. From there, turn left onto the C34 and follow the road along the coast. It’s a relatively good road considering the location, but watch out for unexpected sand flows. At the Ugab River, you’ll leave the park through a gate and enter Dorob Park, where you’ll find an excellent salt road. To reach Spitzkoppe, you can either take the D1918 dirt road from Henties Bay or the tar B2 from Swakopmund. The turn-off to Spitzkoppe is located in Usakos.

When to Go

When it’s hot in certain parts of Namibia, especially inland, it’s best to travel during the winter. The days may be hot, but the nights can get quite cold, so make sure to pack clothes for both possibilities.

What you should know

The roads in Namibia are generally in good condition, but it’s important to have a reliable vehicle, ideally a 4×4, and travel in a group. Breaking down on the Skeleton Coast can be life-threatening because there’s no cell phone reception. The coastal areas are constantly windy, and sudden sandstorms can occur. The roads may be straight and tempt you to speed, but they can be rough and have sand ridges that act as dangerous ramps. If you encounter one of these sand ridges at high speed, don’t turn your wheel – keep it straight and hold on tight! The last part of the road to Spitzkoppe is particularly rough with blind rises, so make sure to drive carefully.

Where to stay

If you’re looking for a beautiful and well-appointed campsite, Hoada Campsite west of Kamanjab is the perfect choice. It offers hot water, a pool, a sunset deck, and campsites that are nestled among giant granite boulders, creating an atmospheric setting. Finding the campsite is easy, as there are clear markings along the C40. The cost of a campsite is R190 per person, while the luxury tents, which can accommodate two people, cost R550.

Palmwag Campsite is another great option and is located west of Hoada, near Palmwag Lodge. It is well maintained and provides easy access to the lodge where you can enjoy sundowners or a meal. However, do note that any meat and milk you bring into Palmwag will be confiscated at the foot-and-mouth checkpoint when you leave. Camping at Palmwag costs R205 per person, and if you prefer lodge rooms, they are available for R1745 per person sharing on a DBB basis.

If you’re thinking of exploring the Skeleton Coast Park, St Nowhere Spa & Campsite is situated just outside the south gate. It’s a fishing camp that offers prefab cottages and campsites, some of which have wind protection and their own shower and kitchen with hot water. The highlight is the “spa,” a hole filled with incredibly buoyant saltwater. The camping rates start at R350 for a group of five, with an additional charge of R70 per extra person. If you prefer more comfort, cottages are available starting at R600 for four people, with an additional charge of R150 per extra person. You can contact them at +264812529422.

For a camping experience near the beach in Swakopmund, Alte Brucke Holiday Resort is a great choice. They offer well-maintained lawned campsites, each with its own bathroom, washing-up area, and power point. And if you don’t feel like cooking, they have a fantastic restaurant on-site. The camping rates range from R380 for two people to R780 for a maximum of six people. If you prefer a four-bed chalet, they start at R515 per person sharing on a B&B basis.

If you’re attracted to mysterious and atmospheric surroundings, Spitzkoppe Campsites are the perfect match. The campsites are nestled against captivating granite boulders, creating a truly unique experience. Each site has long-drop toilets, and hot showers are available at the reception. The cost per person is R165.

Lastly, if you want to stay close to Windhoek, Elisenheim guest farm is just 15 kilometers north of the city. The farm offers grassed campsites under shady trees and a refreshing pool for a quick dip. The camping rate is R110 per person, and if you prefer a more comfortable option, they have B&B rooms available starting at R400 per person sharing.

This amazing adventure was originally featured in the September edition of Getaway magazine.

In the September issue, you can find fascinating stories about 11 beautiful beach cottages, two different ways to explore the Klein Karoo, an exhilarating 4X4 drive through Namibia’s windy landscapes, a helpful guide to swimming spots in Greece, and so much more!