DESTINATION
A group from the north of South Africa hitched their Conqueror off-road trailers and headed for one of Namibia’s most inaccessible wildernesses: the Skeleton Coast.
Even in this day and age, the Skeleton Coast is one of the most inhospitable places on earth. It’s a strip of coastline where man pits himself against nature and survives only with careful planning. Many ships, people, animals and even business plans have been given a last resting place here.
But with smart technology and better vehicles, it is becoming far easier to visit this bucket-list destination. People have hiked to the Kunene mouth on the border between Namibia and Angola, others have cycled there, and some guys from Centurion came here in a Hilux during the school holidays to show the kids what it looks like. But one thing probably nobody has yet attempted is to tow off-road trailers here.
This is exactly what a team towing Conqueror off-roader trailers wanted to do.
THE TOUR GROUP MEETS in Swakopmund late afternoon. Everyone is tired after the long road from South Africa, but the real challenge still lies ahead. In theory, the plan is simple: drive up to the mouth of the mighty Kunene River towing an offroad trailer. We know Mama Africa can be capricious, especially around here, but we cross fingers that she will remain in a good mood for the next week.
The next morning, everyone is ready to go just after sunrise. We meet our tour guide, Danie van Ellewee, better known as Jakkals around here, at a garage just outside town. With him is Hein Truter, the concessionaire (Skeleton Coast Adventure Tours/OIG) for the area who’ll be our convoy’s back driver.
After a quick welcome, we take the road to the north with full fuel tanks and the last coffees from a machine for the foreseeable future.
It is tarred road all the way to Henties Bay and the convoy rolls along smoothly. Along the way, we stop at the wreck of the Zeila for a photo op, and past Henties we find wide orange lichen fields on both sides of the road. We pass Cape Cross and all the “Miles” and other famous fishing spots. Unfortunately, there’s no time for fishing today, though some of the men looked longingly at the shore. “Guys, check out that fishing boat,” says Vivian Torlage just past Mile 108. “My car wants to take a left and head to the beach!”
A decent salt road takes us to the gates of the Skeleton Coast National Park. Portuguese seafarers back in the day dubbed this area “the Gates of Hell”, an expression that was certainly the inspiration for the park’s entrance, as the gates are decorated with skulls. We pay the park fees and continue on without fear.
Inside the park it’s all dirt road, but other than some corrugated bits, the road is in good shape. Nevertheless, the convoy puts up protective nets between the tow vehicles and the trailers to stop gravel and pebbles from causing damage.
Just after the Koigab River, the first huge sand dunes appear to the right of the road. Other parts of the park, such as the area around Torra Bay, remind you of a lunar landscape, while the lush riverbeds like those of the Uniab stand out like an oasis in the arid desert.
We have a late lunch at Terrace Bay and fill up our fuel tanks and jerry cans for the last time. Then the convoy aims for Mowe Bay where the gravel road officially stops and you can only drive farther north with a concession permit. We reduce tyre pressure for the sandy two-track ahead and drive another 15 km before pitching camp. And, just like that, in a single day’s drive, we swap out modern civilisation for a bald, wind-swept beach full of jackal and brown hyena tracks. Fortunately, we’re not completely left to the elements, because each vehicle tows a properly equipped offroad trailer with more amenities than your average student’s bedsit.
THE NEXT MORNING, the camp is shrouded in a dense fog bank, and all around our trailers are fresh jackal tracks. “Today we’re going to look for firm sand, but still put bridles on the trailers so we’re ready for anything,” says our very own Jakkals after breakfast. And so that’s exactly what we do.
The fog is still thick when we leave just after 09:00. The convoy stays on the beach and the sand is fairly solid. Here you can see where the Skeleton Coast got its name: the windswept beach is littered with whale bones, seal carcasses, withered
bamboo and pieces of driftwood, nets and floatation devices from countless ships.
We stop next to some shreds of metal late morning, the remains of a Lockheed Ventura aircraft. The pilot, Immins Naude, crashed here in 1943 after a heroic attempt to rescue the crew of the cargo ship the Dunedin Star.
About 9 km along, our route turns away from the coastline and we aim over a strip of dunes to the dry course of the Hoarisib River. Over the first stretch of dune field in the tour, the trailers behave well and nobody gets stuck. We stop for lunch on a high dune overlooking the river.
Jakkals leads the convoy down the river, and it’s not long before we see gemsbok, springbok and a herd of cattle. Then, to our great surprise, we even see an elephant in the bushes.
The further we progress, the more lush the vegetation in the river becomes. Wild tamarisk, black iron wood, camel thorn and huge white thorn trees are plentiful. Here and there an elongated makalani palm towers over us. We drive past sandstone formations, the so-called Clay Castles, and later past cliffs that loom over both sides of the valley. In places, the dark rocks are striped with quartz ridges
– it appears as though someone punched a hole in the bottom of a can of white paint and swung it back and forth across the valley to create the patterns.
The route takes us past one of the Skeleton Coast Safaris wilderness camps, a luxurious place that guests can only reach by plane. We decide not to pop in and show them the better way to see the Skeleton Coast. They might choke on their G&Ts when we show up covered in dust. Just past the camp, we leave the Skeleton Coast Park for a while, emerge from the river course and head north across
a wide gravel plain. The two-track here is stony and roughly corrugated, putting the vehicles’ suspension to the test. “Aim for about 40 km/h, then it’s easier to kind of hover over the corrugation,” is Jakkals’ advice from the front. However, Andre Halliday of Nelspruit drives a Land Cruiser V8 and doesn’t get what the fuss is about. “Uhm, is there corrugation here?” he teases over the radio.
By late afternoon, we reach the Khumib River and head west again. Before long, we get to a flat patch of sand where we set up camp. As darkness falls around us, the campfire is a tiny speck of light in the arid expanse. And when you look up at the sky overlaid with millions of glittering stars, one wonders if ET has such beautiful places on his home planet.
SOMETIME DURING THE NIGHT the fog rolls in again and it sticks around for breakfast. The plan of action today is to follow the Khumib to the ocean, and as we leave, a drizzle of rain falls on the windshields.
While we drive, Jakkals explains over the radio where all the stone and clay banks in the riverbed come from. Later we stop so that he can illustrate with a sketch in the sand how Namibia’s rivers actually led to the formation of the country’s large dune areas.
Shortly thereafter, we reach a spot in the river where Egyptian geese swim in puddles of water, gemsbok graze under shady trees, and springbok nibble on grass. There are even puddles of water in the track. It’s impressive to see how just a little water seeping from below can turn a seemingly dead, arid landscape into a lush garden.
Near the shoreline, the trail emerges from the river again and turns north across a gravel plain. We continue north, parallel to the coast, and once again the vehicles’ shocks, and our patience and kidney endurance are tested to their limits. We stop at a collection of stone circles in the sand, the remains of foundations for dwellings constructed by the San who use to come here to hunt gemsbok and springbok. Finally, we reach Red View, a viewpoint at the top of the escarpment from where you can see the ocean in the distance across a large red plain.
From here, the route runs back to the sea. Long before we see them, we smell the hundreds of seals lying in the sun. And where there are seals, there are jackals, too. These watch us with obvious amazement, surprised that we drive past all the glittering protein snacks up the beach to where there is nothing to eat.
On the other side of Angra Fria, we turn onto the beach. There are few places in Africa where you can still freely drive on the beach, but our permits allow us to do so here.
Besides, in this unhospitable landscape with its inland dune fields, it’s often necessary to drive along the beach. And so we get to where the Dunedin Star wrecked itself on 9 November 1942.
As darkness falls around us, the campfire is a tiny speck of light in the arid expanse
The rescue effort took more than two months, and in the process a tug sank, the Ventura bomber crashed and two crew members drowned. On the beach there’s a plaque to honour of Mathias Koraseb and Angus McIntyre.
We camp about 150 m from the memorial. For a while after the wreck, the beach is littered with wooden boards, rusted bits of metal, the skulls of seals and faded glass bottles. As we settle around the campfire in our comfortable camping chairs with potjies simmering, their lovely smells making our tummies grumble, we realise what a special privilege it is to be here. Less than 80 years ago, those shipwrecked souls fought for survival in this very place. And here we are, enjoying ice cubes in our drinks.
WE LEAVE AGAIN in the mist the next day on our way north. We drive past the remains of a whale, and before long, huge salt pans force us back inland. The convoy stops regularly as Jakkals’s bakkie finds a way through the mud traps.
Just past Bosluis Bay, a line of flamingoes flies over the waves to our left before we see the buildings of a diamond mine on our right. Suddenly there is a surprising message on the radio: “Welcome to the mouth of the Kunene,” says Jakkals “And well done – this is the first time a group of off-road trailers has reached this spot.”
It’s as if we’re holding the World Cup trophy. The drivers high five one another, we all shake hands and take triumphant team photos. We soak our feet in the river and some guys splash some water on their trailers – reminiscent of sportsmen spraying bubbly from the podium.
Our campsite for the next two nights is at the base of a dune, about 13 km south of the estuary. The next day is a rest day and the group can have a lie in, check their vehicles and trailers and cool off on the beach. In the afternoon, we leave the trailers in the camp and go for a drive in the dunes where the group’s newcomers find out what exactly is meant by a slipface and sand roller coasters.
WE LEAVE THE COAST again the next morning, but turn south this time. The route takes us back to just beyond Angra Fria and then turns inland past some more wide mud flats. Again, we have to trace our route carefully so that no one gets stuck, and when the landscape becomes rocky again, the tracks in front of the convoy disappear. Clearly, nobody else has been here for a long while.
Hein explains that the parks board gave our group special permission to drive here. “It’s not an ordinary tourist route. You are
the first group to drive through here in ages,” he says over the radio.
The course of the Munutum River leads the convoy eastward. Initially, it is a narrow two-track between rocky banks with some delicate bends for the off-road trailers, but over time the river course becomes ever wider and littered with clumps of nara bush, herds of gemsbok and springbok, and even an ostrich or two. We camp on a flat dune in a mountain landscape that extends all the way around us to the horizon.
Shortly after we set off the next morning, we drive past a sign that says, “Skeleton Coast National Park, no entry”. And just like that, we swap the Skeleton Coast for the Kaokoveld. It’s mountainous here, and the high cliffs and deep valleys outside the bakkie windows are in stark contrast to the flat coastline. “Wow, you don’t know where to look; everything is so beautiful!” comments André on the radio.
We head south and turn east again onto the Nadas River course. A two-track leads us through the Orupembe and Sanitatas conservancies before heading south to the Puros Conservancy.
We drive about 8 km in the Khumib River to join the D3707, a properly corrugated road, which eventually leads us south again to Puros, our destination for the evening.
THE LAST DAY of the tour is one for the books. Our destination is Warmquelle, but instead of aiming straight ahead on the
bumpy D3707, we first drive southwest along the Hoarisib River.
The Hoarisib is one of the most beautiful rivers in the whole of Kaokoland. It’s lush and the convoy drives through shallow water crossings all morning. Down in the valley it’s grassy green and massive cliffs rise up on either side of the convoy. Our necks turn more often than tourists on a bus on their way to Table Mountain.
The route turns south again, past the Ganias Plains and through the Sesfontein Conservancy to the Hoanib River. Here we swing east in the river course. Within minutes, we stop next to a herd of elephants with four babies, and soon after that we see a massive bull standing under a shady tree. We count about 20 elephants before we leave the river course, drive across the Giribes Plain and join the D3707.
We camp for the last time at Ongongo Waterfall Campsite just outside Warmquelle. It’s heavenly to wash off the desert dust from the last week in the shower. The cellphone signal is back and messages from home are streaming in. Later, around the camp fire, everyone plans their route home the next day.
And when we finally retire to the offroad trailers for the last time, it is with the proud knowledge that our tough little houses on wheels made it to the Kunene mouth and back again.
Can I go here on my own? Not this exact route. North of Terraces Bay is a concession area that you may only visit with a tour operator who has a valid permit.
Can I tow my road caravan? No, only off-road trailers are allowed.
Can I go along without an off-road trailer? Yes, but keep in mind this tour is designed specifically for offroad trailers. The tour operator offers a similar tour for 4x4s only.
How long is the tour? 8 nights, 9 days. Can I bring my family? Yes, definitely. What is included? Park, guide and concession fees, two-way radios, breakfasts and dinners, a common camp kitchen, shower and toilet. What should I bring? Your own camping equipment, chairs, lunches and snacks, and plenty of drinking and shower water for everyone in your vehicle. And make sure you bring enough fuel for at least
1 000 km in off-road conditions. Contact Danie van Ellewee
00 264 81 376 2909 namjakkals@iway.na