I'm sitting in the shade next to a slightly-yellowing, sunny lawn, listening to constant, dull roar of crashing waves and the sounds of strange birds chirping and crackling and whistling. Dramatic, shaded cliffs tower off in the distance to the north across a small river, and I can occasionally hear the foreign clicks of Xhosa being spoken by the staff as they bustle around. I'm recovering from this nasty bug, and I'll be back out on the water tomorrow.
July 4th! Drew, Ken, and I are going to find the other American in town to celebrate. Maybe we'll debate the bullshit going on in Congress lately.
The IMAX team packed up yesterday and left. They have concluded that the sardine run isn't happening this year, which is to say that the chances of filming a good bait ball have been so low that it isn't worth staying (it's been 5 years since they started the project!). Scientists report no presence of sardine eggs during water tests at depth, and others have reported that the main shoal was just spotted at East London, which is hundreds of kilometers away. Still, the predators are all here, and days out on the water are full of life. Only in Galapagos have I seen pods of dolphin so big and birds diving on fish in such large numbers, but here, you see it everytime you go out on a boat. We've had incredible humpback whale activity, too, and have been seeing at least ten a day during their migration north to Mozambique.