HELLO, OLD FRIEND

The Langebaan Lagoon is the heart of the West Coast National Park, but its soul stretches back to the beginning of humanity. Today, like so long ago, it still provides man with the perfect hideaway.

- PIERRE STEYN

There are many special ways to appreciate the magic hour at the end of the day, but this one – on the deck of a houseboat anchored in Kraalbaai – might just take the cake. There are the obvious aesthetic reasons: The houseboat, the Larus, slowly turns on its anchor, so your view of the lagoon constantly changes. Right now I’m facing west, towards the iconic Preekstoel rock, which perches on the beach a few hundred metres away. If I look to the south through my binoculars, I can see a handful of beach cottages at Churchhaven. The Larus rocks gently and revolves imperceptibly. Later, to the north-east, the town of Langebaan’s lights are pinpricks in the gathering dusk.

Seagulls are flapping above our heads, loudly searching for something to scavenge. A daring Hartlaub’s gull darts down, grabs a forgotten Nik Nak off the deck and makes a triumphant dash across the water with four competitors in pursuit.

By the time this mini episode of Survivor Seagull has played out and I’ve had the chance to take another sip of my sundowner, I’m facing the dark mass of Postberg to the north. Earlier in the day, a blanket of cloud covered its summit, but now it’s perfectly silhouetted against the orange glow of the sunset.

“We’ll braai in about half an hour,” my friend Antonie van der Smit says. He takes a stick and pokes at the logs in the braai drum on the rear deck. Sparks fly up into the deepening darkness. It’s hard to imagine a better Sunday evening and a better end to a long weekend in this long-forgotten corner of the West Coast.