This morning, I was woken up by my host David, who had prepared me a simple breakfast of toast and eggs. Outside, Sara and her friend were casually horse-riding around the farm — a lifestyle that made me a little envious. Soon after, I had to pack my things and head out for the day.
Today was a big one: shark cage diving! I had been invited to join a boat trip with Brian McFarlane, a local legend known for his expertise with Great White Sharks. David dropped me off at Stanford’s car garage around 9:20 am, where I thanked him and his family for their hospitality.
I met Brian and hopped into his Land Rover, where I sat beside Agnes and Karin, two Dutch travelers also eager to see sharks. Brian has an impressive background. Having started as a young diver hunting perlemoen (abalone), he later became a commercial fisherman, treasure hunter, and even a diamond diver. During his shark-hunting days, he caught 33 Great Whites. Thankfully, he now dedicates his life to protecting and studying these magnificent creatures. For the past four years, Brian has had a 97% success rate in shark sightings, so expectations were high for today’s adventure.
We drove to Gansbaai, a once sleepy fishing village that has boomed with shark tourism since 1997. The harbor was bustling with activity, but the setting was stunning—rolling hills meeting the sea. Brian handed out seasickness pills, just in case. After all, no one wants to miss the sharks because of an upset stomach!
Our boat set sail toward Dyer Island, home to 30,000 Cape Fur Seals, a favorite prey for Great Whites. As we approached the island, the sight of thousands of seals was both mesmerizing and slightly terrifying — knowing what lurked beneath. After an hour, we anchored at the shark-spot, and Brian lowered the shark cage into the water, baiting it with shark liver to attract the predators.
It wasn’t long before the sharks arrived, gliding just under the surface, their massive bodies casting ominous shadows. From the top deck, the view was incredible. We watched as the sharks circled the bait, showing off their powerful jaws. Brian would tease them by pulling the bait away, resulting in dramatic splashes that sent everyone scrambling to protect their cameras.
Two brave souls suited up and descended into the cage for an up-close encounter. As they went under, the wind picked up, causing the waves to toss our boat from side to side. It quickly became too rough for anyone else to enter the cage. Even without getting in, witnessing these massive sharks just a few feet away was exhilarating.
After a few hours of watching the sharks in action, the sea grew rougher, and some of the passengers started to feel seasick. We headed back to shore, where Brian treated those who had survived the experience (and the waves) to coffee and snacks. Despite the chaos, it was an unforgettable day.
Back in Stanford, I bid farewell to Brian and the Dutch girls and prepared for my next journey. With my backpack slung over my shoulder, I hit the road to hitchhike once again. After waiting for about half an hour, a pickup stopped, and I climbed into the back. The driver took me 20 kilometers to a junction, and as he drove away, I found myself standing in the middle of a vast patchwork of farmland — just fields, hills, and sky, with no cars in sight.
I walked for about two kilometers, enjoying the solitude, before another car finally picked me up. This time, it was a couple with a deep love for 70s music. As we drove, I was serenaded by Elvis Presley and ABBA tunes, singing along to classics like Mamma Mia and The Winner Takes It All. It was a fitting soundtrack for the rolling countryside.
We arrived in Bredasdorp, a small farming town of around 3,000 people, where I was warmly welcomed by Nelmarie and her two daughters, Minéll and Petri. When I had first spoken to Nelmarie, she had been hesitant about hosting me, describing herself and her family as “just ordinary hardworking people.” But that’s exactly what I wanted—real, authentic experiences.
Noticing my sunburn from the day on the boat, Nelmarie handed me some soothing moisturizer and let me take a nap in Minéll’s room. I woke up in the evening and met Pierce, the father of the family. He was excited to have me stay with them, having heard about my travels on CapeTalk radio. Bredasdorp, founded in 1838 and named after Michael van Breda, the father of South Africa’s sheep industry, is a tight-knit farming community. Pierce explained how much the town’s economy relies on successful harvests. A bad year for the farmers affects the entire village.
That night, the family took me out for dinner at a local restaurant on Church Street, where we enjoyed big steaks and shared stories. Pierce and Nelmarie run three businesses, including a grocery and craft shop, and a carpet cleaning service. Pierce had once worked as a chef for the South African Air Force but left that life behind to build something of his own. “Our only luxury now is the internet,” Pierce joked, adding that they don’t even look at their phone bill because it’s too scary!
After dinner, Nelmarie logged onto her computer to tell her online friends about my stay. As I sat down to write my diary, I reflected on how different each day has been, meeting people from all walks of life, yet all with the same kindness and generosity.
Tomorrow promises more adventures as I explore the local sights.
Good night, Bredasdorp!
Ramon
