Cape Town - For more than a century feral horses have roamed wild at Rooisand Nature Reserve. This has become their preferred habitat, wading through the wetlands between Kleinmond and Botrivier lagoons.
Reputed to be the country’s only herd of wild horses, legend goes that evacuating British soldiers let their cavalry horses loose in Kleinmond lagoon at the end of the Anglo Boer War. By the 1940s the herd had grown to over 400. Totally wild, they roamed the river area, decimating precious grazing until farmers rounded them up or shot them. Only three horses escaped. Today, descendants of the herd splash through the lagoon or canter between sand dunes, running wild, kicking up water droplets that glint like diamonds.
Having always wanted to see them it was only a few weeks before when, paddling the much bigger Botrivier Lagoon, we saw them. Hectically busy with visiting birds, a few were grazing along the shoreline close to the mouth of the lagoon. The flooding of the Botrivier estuary in August last year stranded about nine horses. Now, no longer wild, they have become a tourist attraction in Fisherhaven where they are cherished by residents.
On another trip we saw them close to the entrance to Fisherhaven. Apparently locals often find them grazing their lawns and even along the R43.
Realising that the best way to get up close to the rest of the herd was by canoe we returned, this time to Kleinmond. The plan was to find the narrow channel between Botrivier and Klein River lagoons. A bonus would be to see the wild horses.
As the sun transformed the water from charcoal to crimson six of us set off from Kleinmond harbour in three double canoes. With surrounding mountains mirrored in the water we left a rippling swell in our wake; the only sound was our paddles dipping in and out of water. The lagoon is a great place for beginner paddlers because they have the advantage of not rowing against strong wind and the hindrance of swell and tides.
Part of a large estuary system, the “small mouth” often silts up like now, forming a beautiful reed-banked lagoon stretching inland for about 5km towards the much bigger Botrivier lagoon. This forms the eastern edge of the Kogelberg Biosphere Reserve.
Seagulls squawked and waves crashed behind sand dunes as we continued beneath a wooden footbridge. We were not the only ones making the most of the sun on the mid-winter day. Fishermen waved a greeting on their way to the shore as they lugged boxes of tackle and rods. The beach is rated as blue flag, which means that it meets excellence in areas of safety, amenities, cleanliness and environmental standards. The Blue Flag campaign is international, run by the Foundation for Environmental Education and has strict criteria which is checked regularly. If a beach does not adhere to the guidelines of the programme its status is revoked.
Now, a short distance from the footbridge we glimpsed the first herd. About six of them, some grazing while others waded towards us, unfazed by our presence, drinking and nibbling aquatic vegetation.
Holding our breath we stopped, awestruck, cameras clicking. Up close their coats shimmered in the sun, tails and manes flicking and flashing. Meanwhile fish eagles called from a dead branch poking through the water, competing for attention. We sat for some time, watching the horses wading deeper into the water, brazen, coming closer.
Time to move on, the water low, we dragged the boats across sandbanks into various watercourses, some leading nowhere, to a wall of dense reeds. Backpedalling we retraced the way to explore other channels, sometimes pulling and pushing through reeds accompanied by much puffing.
In need of a rest we entered an amphitheatre surrounded by reeds, home to another herd of horses. Two galloped around setting off waves of glistening droplets. Suddenly one dived into the water on the opposite side, disappearing from view. An older, bigger horse stood watching and waiting.
Not wanting to disturb them we searched for a way forward only to find the channel too shallow to navigate. There appeared to be no way through and so climbing out of the canoes we set off to explore on foot all the time keeping our distance from the horses. Tracing the watercourse we saw where the horse had disappeared. Into a deep pool, watched by the older horse, the foal’s head poking from the water.
Leaving him to bathe we continued around the edge to stumble across another young horse, this one not so energetic. Almost hidden in long grass it raised its head once, appearing sickly, at death’s door, while adult horses menacingly stood guard. Moving closer, wanting to see if it was still breathing, the older horses moved towards us.
Nervous we moved on, joining the others, laying on the earth and soaking up winter sun. It was like being at the races as we watched horses race around, sometimes stopping, front legs raised skyward, almost toppling onto each other. Were they fighting, were they mating or were they just enjoying themselves? We certainly were.
We lay there for a long time, reluctant to leave, debating whether to continue or give up on our quest and return. The foal still lay on the ground, unmoving. The others left to re-enter the main river while Lionel and I persevered, looking for a way forward. It was then that we received our reward.
In slow motion the foal raised its head before standing on wobbly legs. Then it came towards us sniffing, skittish, flaring nostrils, exploring what was probably the first humans and boat it had ever seen. Standing next to the canoe it nudged the paddle as Lionel reached out to it. The animal, wary, jumped away. Surely it does not get better than this?
The wind had come up and yet we persevered and tried another narrow watercourse winding in an arc towards the sea. Leading to an open area we followed a route probably made by the horses, passing through dense reeds and alien Port Jackson before climbing a sand dune to the highest point. With Botrivier Lagoon nowhere in sight we gave up and headed back to Kleinmond harbour only to be caught in a strong north-westerly wind. But that’s a story for another day.
l Watkins is the author of Adventure Hikes in the Cape Peninsula and Off the Beaten Track.
Cape Times