The Shipwreck & Canoe Hiking Trail: A Coastal Reckoning from Port Alfred to the Fish River Mouth

There are hikes that test your lungs, hikes that test your legs, and then there are hikes that quietly rearrange your sense of time. The Shipwreck & Canoe Trail along the Eastern Cape coast belongs firmly in the last category. It unfolds at the pace of tides and rivers, of donkey boilers warming and kettles being coaxed into life, of strangers becoming comrades over shared chores and shared sniffles. It is a trail that does not shout its beauty. It waits for you to notice.

Our journey began in Port Alfred, a seaside town that feels like a secret too good to keep, and ended six days later at the Fish River Mouth. Between those points lay pristine beaches, indigenous forest, grasslands, shipwreck relics, river paddling, rain, laughter, flu, and the kind of group spirit that only forms when comfort is optional and kindness is essential.

This is not an ultimate guide. The beauty of this trail is that you do not need one. The organisers take care of everything. You arrive, you listen carefully at the briefing, and then you walk, paddle, eat, sleep, repeat. What follows is a story. One shaped by salt air, sore throats, and the quiet magic of the Eastern Cape.

Cast of Crazies

Port Alfred: The Eastern Cape’s Best-Kept Coastal Secret

Before a single boot touched sand, Port Alfred had already worked its way under our skin. Set where the Kowie River meets the sea, this small coastal town is equal parts river port, holiday village, and time capsule. It has a gentleness to it that is increasingly rare. No rush. No pretense. Just wide pavements, sea air, and locals who still greet one another properly.

Port Alfred sits roughly halfway between Gqeberha and East London, close enough to the latter to make it an easy access point, yet far enough removed to feel like an escape. The Kowie River snakes through the town, flanked by marina homes, fishing boats, and pelicans that appear to be on permanent standby. Eastern Beach opens wide and generous, a sweep of sand that seems designed for long walks and longer thoughts.

If there was one regret shared by more than one of us, it was not arriving a day earlier, or staying a day or two longer. Port Alfred invites lingering. It rewards slowness. And it sets the tone perfectly for a trail that asks you to surrender to rhythm rather than resist it

The Trail at a Glance

The Shipwreck & Canoe Trail runs from Port Alfred to the Fish River Mouth over six days and five nights. It combines coastal hiking with a unique two-day canoe component through the Kleinemonde River and Nyala Valley Game Reserve.

Total duration: 5 nights, 6 days
Group size: Maximum 12 hikers
Terrain: Beach walking, rocky coastline, dunes, forest paths, grasslands, river paddling
Accommodation: Basic but comfortable huts and one fully equipped stone cottage

This is not a race. Distances are modest by hiking standards, but the environment demands attention. Tides matter. Weather matters. Group dynamics matter.

Day 1: Port Alfred Eastern Beach to Milkwood Hut, Rufane Farm (±8.6 km)

We set off from Eastern Beach with the kind of excitement that only exists on Day One, already bonded more than most groups thanks to Ben, who had organised a quiz the night before. It was a brilliant ice breaker for a wonderfully diverse group, sparking laughter, friendly rivalry, and conversation.

Somehow, even after a full day of hiking, Ben still had the energy to squeeze in a few runs, setting an early benchmark for endurance that would become a quiet joke for the rest of the trail. when packs are still neatly organised and knees are still optimistic. The sea was our constant companion, sometimes whispering, sometimes thundering, depending on where the tide happened to be.

At low tide, the coastline reveals its secrets. Fountain Rocks emerged from the sand like ancient sculptures, carved by patience rather than force. We moved carefully along the shore, aware that the ocean sets the rules here. The Rufane River Mouth, often closed to the sea, marked a transition point. From there, we turned inland toward Rufane Farm.

Milkwood Hut is tucked among trees, overlooking farmlands that stretch away from the coast. It is simple, functional, and quietly lovely. The kind of place where you immediately understand that luxury has very little to do with excess. As the light softened, chores were divided without fuss. Packs were unpacked. Dinner appeared. And the first night settled over us with the sound of wind in leaves rather than waves.

Day 2: Milkwood Hut to Umtunzi Riet River Hut (±11 km)

Morning routines on trail have their own choreography. Someone always wakes early. Someone always forgets where they put their headlamp. Coffee becomes currency.

We retraced our steps back to the beach, then turned left toward Riet Point, a rocky outcrop that anchors the day’s walk. The beach here is wild and open, and the walking alternates between meditative and demanding as sand shifts underfoot.

After passing the Riet River holiday cottages, the trail took on a more navigational character. Dirt roads, gates, and a brief encounter with the R72 reminded us that wilderness and civilisation are never as far apart as we imagine. Crossing the road and passing through the large gate felt like stepping back into another chapter of the story.

Umtunzi River Hut sits quietly, reached by following markers through bush and along the river. That night, electricity was not on offer, but conversation was. Dad jokes flowed freely, with Butch firmly claiming his crown as reigning champion. Laughter, even when throats are scratchy, is excellent medicine.

Day 3: Umtunzi Riet River Hut to Three Sisters Hut (±4 km)

Day Three was shorter in distance but rich in texture. We returned to the beach once more, walking toward the Three Sisters Rocks. Standing before the largest of the trio, we followed instructions that felt almost ceremonial: look up, find the break in the dunes, and head toward it.

The trail slipped inland through a dip in the dunes, into indigenous coastal forest that smelled of earth and leaves. Anchor signs guided us forward, each one a quiet reassurance. Grasslands opened up, and a small gate marked the final approach to Three Sisters Hut.

The hut itself is a solid face-brick structure, practical and unpretentious. What made this stop particularly special was its setting on a fully fledged stud farm, a detail that added an unexpected layer of interest to the night. It was the kind of place that made more than one of us say we would happily return, not just for the trail, but to properly experience the farm itself on a future hike. Toilets first, always toilets first, and then the welcome relief of dropping packs.

By now, the flu had begun making its rounds. Ruwayda had gone down on Day Two. By Day Three, more of us were feeling it. Spirits dipped briefly, then rallied. Trail families have a way of doing that.

Day 4: Three Sisters to Kleinemonde West River Mouth, Canoe Trail to Lily Pad Hut

The walk to Kleinemonde West River Mouth was gentle, almost a prelude, even though we had lost another man to the flu.

At the river, the trail manager met us for a thorough briefing and handed over the canoes. Packs were waterproofed. Paddles were adjusted. Expectations were set.

The paddle itself covered approximately eight kilometres, and it was here that the trail revealed its most unexpected gift. The river moved through landscapes that felt untouched, bordered by reeds, forest, and open sky. The pace slowed. Conversations softened. Even the gale force westerly wind that threatened to push us into the ocean could not defeat our spirits.

If anything, it drew us closer.

After the paddle, we shouldered our packs once more and hiked roughly three kilometres into Nyala Valley Game Reserve. Wildlife sightings felt like bonuses rather than goals. Nyala, giraffe, impala, zebra, and wildebeest moved through the landscape with the casual confidence of residents unconcerned by visitors.

Lily Pad Hut sits within indigenous forest, and from the moment we arrived, it claimed its place as the undisputed favourite. By a long shot. There was something about its setting, its atmosphere, and the collective exhale that happened there. Even as Dara succumbed to a viral infection picked up after an unfortunate canoe incident, the group closed ranks. Care, humour, and hot drinks flowed freely.

That night it rained. But donkey boilers were coaxed into action, and the art of lighting them reached new levels of mastery. Papa Grizzly saved his culinary innovation for the following night, when Bolasagne would go down in trail history. A spaghetti bolognaise transformed, through ingenuity and necessity, into something approaching lasagne. It was magnificent.

Day 5: Lily Pad Hut to Stone Cottage via River and Beach

Morning began with a short hike back to the canoes, followed by an eight-kilometre paddle back to the river mouth. The river felt different on the return journey. Familiar, but not diminished.

It was on these river days that quiet heroes emerged.

Aunty Mariam and Soraya rowed with calm determination, cutting through a fierce headwind that had even the guys working hard. Their strength and composure shifted the energy of the group. Rashaad, too sick to row on both Day Four and Day Five, remained an anchor in every other way that mattered, steadying morale when bodies faltered.

At Kleinemonde East, civilisation briefly re-entered the story in the form of a shop. Extra provisions *cough* smokes *cough* were acquired. Morale lifted.

The coastal hike to Stone Cottage stretched for roughly ten kilometres. At low tide, just before Clayton Rocks, we scanned the horizon for a mast. The Umvolozi, which sank in 1890, still announces itself quietly, a reminder that this coastline has always demanded respect.

Stone Cottage was a revelation. A beautifully converted stone farmhouse with lights, hot water, a lounge, kitchen, and three sleeping areas upstairs. That evening, with rain behind us and comfort restored, Papa Grizzly finally unveiled Bolasagne in all its glory. After days of simple trail food, the hot shower, hearty meal, and proper bed felt almost excessive. Gratitude filled the room.

Day 6: Stone Cottage to Fish River Mouth (±14.34 km)

The final day carried the familiar mix of anticipation and reluctance. We returned to the beach and set off along the coast for the last stretch.

The walk to Fish River Mouth is long enough to invite reflection. On the people you walked with. On the moments that surprised you. On how quickly a temporary life can feel permanent.

At the end our cars waited where we had parked them a lifetime ago.

The People Who Make the Trail

We were twelve in total, a diverse group that included familiar faces and new ones. Ruwayda and Kareemah, absolute joys to have on the trail.

Shiham, who did not hike but managed to infect nearly all of us with flu anyway. Dara, heroic in his persistence despite illness. Rashaad, resilient as ever.

Everyone showed up for one another. Chores were shared. Spirits were lifted.

Lliane, the porterage wizard, deserves special mention for sourcing meds and supplies with tireless efficiency. Dave, the trail manager, went above and beyond in briefings, logistics, and quiet problem-solving.

And then there was Butch, dispensing Dad jokes like trail markers, and Papa Grizzly, redefining backcountry cuisine.

And Anni, Soraya and Mariam, my biggest cheerleaders and supporters always! I love you guys so much!