Positioned at the end of the Twelve Apostles mountain range (and thusly named), 13th Apostle reef is a distinct mass of granite boulders surrounded by a sandy bottom. Waves have long been observed to break here in bad weather, but the reef was only dived for the first time late in 2010. It’s quite a long (13.3km) boat ride from Hout Bay, near Llandudno.
Hydroids, urchins and soft corals
We visited it on a day when surface conditions were somewhat choppy despite the lack of wind, and the boat ride there felt endless. And wet. Visibility, however, was stellar – when my buddy failed to arrive at the bottom I was forced to resurface, and on my way back down I could see Tony and Vanessa 15 metres below me. They, in turn, could see my legs and the boat while I was on the surface.
Tony & Vanessa, seen from near the surface
The top of the reef is between 6 and 10 metres deep, punctuated by deep cracks. There are in fact a couple of swimthroughs and overhangs, one of which forms a very large cavern. The reef itself has kelp growing on top and down to at least 15 metres which, as Peter Southwoodpoints out, implies that light often penetrates to that depth, in turn implying frequent good visibility at the site. There is the usual covering of urchins, sea cucumbers, sea squirts, sponges, soft corals and hydroids.
Alikreukel (I think)
Klipfish hiding in red seaweed
Super klipfish
Cauliflower soft coral
Blue gas flame nudibranch
Red fanworms
Hydroids cover the rocks in places
Basket star tentacles
Scores of fry
Tony found me a beautiful basket star, and I discovered a brooding cushion star – an unusual sea star that makes me crave refined carbohydrates. We also saw large numbers of west coast rock lobster and schools of hottentot. Parts of the reef were covered by dense schools of baby fish – the Atlantic is very fecund.
Basket star
This reef has a distinct edge, and while it’s quite large, if you land on it you probably won’t get lost. It feels quite far out to sea (it isn’t, really) and it’s essential (as with all Cape Town boat diving) to have an SMB to deploy before you surface. Tony in fact sent his up with me when I ascended early in the dive to look for my buddy. I descended on the line and found him and Vanessa at the bottom.
A wedding at Windmill, with divers emerging (James Bond-like) from the sea in the background
It’s actually ridiculous that I haven’t written anything about Windmill Beach yet for the blog. It’s probably one of the three most popular shore entry sites on the western side of False Bay, and it’s absolutely beautiful. The beach is also a popular wedding venue – take care not to spoil the photos as you tramp past in your scuba gear!
Blue gas flame nudibranch
Right next to Boulders Beach, Windmill shares the same type of topography: large, rounded boulders sheltering small inlets. On a calm day with no large swell, it’s paradise. (When there is a big swell, it’s a washing machine and not worth the walk down to the beach.) A huge variety of life colonises the granite boulders around the beach, and the patient observer will find other interesting creatures on the coarse, sandy bottom between the rocks.
A diver in the eastern cove at Windmill
On the surface at Windmill
Exiting the water after a dive, in the east cove
The beautiful tree at the bottom of the path to the beach
Windmill Beach
View of the dodgy public loo on site, from just above the beach
Negotiating the path back to the car
The path leading down from the parking area to the beach
Getting ready at the parking area
The entrance to the beach, seen from the parking area
Parking is at the end of Links Crescent, so-called because it runs behind the golf course in Simon’s Town. There’s often a man in a penguin suit standing on the corner of Bellevue Road, which is where you must turn left off the main road. Links Crescent is the first road to your right after the golf course. On weekends the site teems with divers, but during the week it’s advisable to organise yourself a car guard (Happy Valley Homeless Shelter can often oblige). The parking is right next to the golf course – be warned! There are public loos on the way down to the beach, but optimistically the most they can be said to provide in terms of amenities is a modicum of privacy. The well-maintained loos at Long Beach have spoiled us in this regard!
Common feather star
Setting off in good visibility at Windmill
Tony, James and Linda at Windmill
Doing skills at Windmill
Interesting gaps between the rocks and in the kelp are fun for divers!
James swims over broken kelp
Linda traverses the seafloor
The two coves are very sheltered. The northernmost (left hand) one is very shallow and slopes very gently; the eastern (right hand) cove is the more popular entry point, and is ideal for skills training on the sandy bottom, as it is very protected and one can quickly get 1.5 to 2 metres of depth. There is plenty to see on the rocks around the edge of the cove, and in adverse conditions an entire dive could be conducted without leaving the protection of the rocks. At least one very large octopus lives in the shallows on the right hand side of the cove.
A red sea star… count the legs!
Kelp forest at Windmill Beach
Kelp forest at Windmill
Healthy kelp forests with invertebrates beneath at Windmill
Catshark egg case at Windmill
There is abundant life at the foot of the kelp stipes
Sea fan nursery at Windmill
Urchins and a sea star cling to a rock at Windmill
Baby sea fans at Windmill
There is ample place to hide in the kelp
The maximum depth you’ll find at Windmill is about 8 metres – getting deeper requires quite a swim offshore. I think it involves more than a little luck as well as some navigation skils, but it’s possible to enter at the eastern cove, swim out and around the rocks, and exit at the northern cove. There is a narrow gap between the rocks (shortcut into the northern cove) that is terrible when there’s a swell – the first time I dived Windmill, with Fritz (just after I started diving) we got washed through it at a precipitous speed. If you skip the gap, knowing when to turn west and find the seaward entrance of the north cove is also quite an art, and a “surface to look around” may be required.
Blue gas flame nudibranch
All that said, Windmill is an exceptionally attractive dive site. There are several passages to swim through, and the southern right whales that visit False Bay every year seem to like this spot. I have heard more than one story of divers encountering a jubilant whale in the shallow (for a whale) water. If you are one of the lucky ones who does, remember that these whales are very, very large in comparison to you, and an accidental sideswipe with its tail could well catapault you into next week.
Box sea jellies at Windmill Beach
A super klipfish at Windmill
Alikreukel on the sand
Super klipfish at rest
A hottentot with two fish lice on its head
Cushion star on some Stephens’ codium
Climbing alikreukel
A pinch-lipped marginella on some Stephens’ codium
Cape rock crab
Alikreukel on kelp
A Cape rock crab on the move
A klipfish perches on a rock
A large super klipfish at Windmill
A Cape rock crab in the kelp
When we dived there recently I found a white seacatfish, but wasn’t fast enough to photograph him as he disappeared into a crack in the rocks. There are lots of klipfish, gorgeous nudibranchs, and a wealth of other invertebrate life. You won’t find a single abalone (but lots of shells) – I think they’ve been poached out. The place is crawling with alikreukel. Fortunately at Photographer’s Reef, a 400 metre swim directly out into the bay from Windmill, there is a reasonably large and healthy population. Like A Frame, we saw many false plum anemones, and the Cape rock crab population at Windmill seems particularly healthy. If you want to see kelp forests, the ones at Windmill are particularly alluring, sloping gently upwards with a vivid scattering of urchins and anemones on the rocks beneath.
A large false plum anemone in the shallow water at Windmill
Alikreukel (Turbo sarmaticus) or giant periwinkles are also called ollycrocks, cockles or turban shells. Unfortunately if you google them you will mostly come up with recipes on how to cook them rather than their natural history! Like abalone, alikreukel are a slow-growing, heavily exploited food source and very large specimens are rare outside of marine reserves.
Alikreukel at A Frame showing operculum
These large underwater snails can close their shells using a trapdoor called an operculum. One side is smooth, brown and spiralled, and the other (seen above) is covered in little white knobs. Their shells are unassuming when they are alive, but can be polished to show off the beautiful mother of pearl underneath the outer layers when empty. The snails’ bodies have a dark black or brown lip, with the rest being orange (as can be seen in the photo below).
Fleshy alikreukel on the Clan Stuart
Alikreukel are broadcast spawners, which means that males and females release their gametes and sperm into the water column in a synchronised effort. The fertilised eggs go through a larval stage, free floating until they start to develop a shell. Alikreukel are found to a depth of only about eight metres and use their rasping tongue, called a radula to feed on seaweed and algae.
