Crayfish, braais and bush fires

Today was probably the most perfect day we have had so far this summer - balmy air, flat seas all around the Peninsula and an almost Mediterranean clarity of azure blue. The crayfish boats were out early to take advantage of the good conditions and we chatted to a gaggle of old-timers preparing to launch as we took our normal stroll along the sea front. They were hoping that the seal that had ruined their catch the day before had moved off. Seals take full advantage of an easy meal when they see the boats dropping nets. The fish heads that are tied across the metal rings as bait for the crayfish are easy pickings and any crayfish that might already have started to nibble are chased away by the seals, who then demolish the bait and leave nothing for the crayfish to come back to. The crayfish have been of good size this season, which is always encouraging in light of the heavy poaching that takes place under the noses of the inspectors. The boats that come over at night from Hout Bay are clearly visible and there is no masking the noise of the outboard engines, yet poaching continues unabated. In a way, it's a good thing when we have endless stormy weather, as that is the only thing that seems to keep poachers at home.

After a long day at the computer, and HWCFA achieving a remarkable piece of work in the garage - restoring a snooker table that was built in 1957 to its pristine state - we threw a few logs on the braai and cooked a pork sausage or two. A small salad was enough to accompany them as the setting sun cast a golden glow on the mountain above us. A few glossy ibis flew overhead, quite separate from the large flock of sacred ibis that fly over twice a day, and we have been spared the squawking of hadedahs for a while now. They must have gone away for the holidays.

The fire season is almost upon us, and despite there being absolutely no wind over Cape Town at the moment, this photo clearly shows a large band of smoke from a bush fire on the other side of False Bay. These runaway fires are most prevalent when the southeaster is blowing at full force, and it makes one think that, once again, this can only have been caused by human carelessness, a badly controlled picnic fire or the usual suspect, the cigarette butt flicked from the car into the dry grass at the roadside. The fires can burn for weeks and lay waste to vast tracts of mountainside, with the accompanying demise of the small creatures that are trapped - the only good thing about them is that our indigenous flora are propagated by fire, so it must have all been part of nature's original plan.

We certainly have had, as far as I can remember, the best December and festive season weather since pa fell off the bus. Long may it last!