‘I will walk to Santa Barbara tomorrow’ Uwe said in his Frankfurteler accent. ‘All along the beach to the northern tip of Machangulo Peninsula.’ Santa Barbara is our nickname for Machangulo’s most northerly community on Maputo Bay called Santa Maria.

The five of us, plus Alexa and Toffee, were having a sundowner on one of the rich people’s patios overlooking the bay and peninsula. ‘Uns Uwe’ sat next to me as he revealed his mission for the next morning.

‘What do you think, Ben?’ He continued. ‘From there, we turn west along the bay until we get to Bemuga’s party patio. We preorder dinner, have a beer, and by the time our taxi has arrived. The girls, Vessel, and doggies Alexa and Toffee will meet us there. We all have dinner and a few drinks and drive the sand tracks back home.’

Ja, so einfach ist das! Die ‘Hesse’ komme aufrobbe!

Sure, easy peasy piece of cake. A German makes a plan and that’s how it works.

But he didn’t include Kuifie’s plan. There is no plan but plenty of ideas.

We met the next morning around 10:00 am for a coffee and the last preparations were underway. I came well prepared. Three bottles of water, 2 oranges, one sandwich, one spare shirt, one camera and one drone.

And one large rubbish bag. Check and ready to go.

Uwe’s face was priceless when I said that I wanted to pick up some plastic litter along the beach. It’s crazy.

I mean it’s crazy how much junk lines the shores. A lot of it has disintegrated into microplastic over time. Fish, dolphins, whales, and turtles all swallow this debris. It kills them. Plastic is the ocean’s Number One killer. The locals have no concept of rubbish, as they don’t see it as rubbish. It’s always been there. They don’t know that turtles swallow plastic mistakenly for jellyfish. Marine mammals and fish get tangled up in nets and lines and are left to drown. There is no education here in the first place, undoubtedly there is none for the future of our planet and their home. Most rubbish comes from ships on the ocean, as the warm Benguela Currents drift south towards the Cape of Good Hope.

And Hope is all that I have left. I won’t be able to clean everything up, not even close. But every little effort makes a difference, every little bit of plastic off the beach helps.

And when I wasn’t picking up garbage, I would set Rick into the air. Or have my Osmo travel camera handy. So much to do. ‘Uns Uwe’ appreciated my thoughts, but still thought I was one short of a six-pack.

This is not a stroll in the park. Off we went over the first dune to reach the glass-clear waters of the Indian Ocean. It’s only downhill from here.

The usually strong winds subsided to a calm breeze for us today.

We were breezing along low tidal pools, too good not to be missed. I, unfortunately, didn’t have time to refresh.

Rick was already in the air up there. Volcanic rock formations create a bizarre vision of this picturesque landscape.

‘Uns Uwe’ walked ahead as I carried on with my assignment, picking up bottles, flip-flops, and sneakers.

Some shoes snug in a trendy ocean style, Moss Cockle. I concentrated mainly on plastic ropes and plastic shopping bags as they yield the biggest wildlife threat, zig-zagging in between the high tide mark.

We met a young black fisherman along the beach, casting silver lures into the whitewash. It was obvious that he tried to work out, why I was carrying and picking up garbage from this very same beach. I greeted him and told him that we come in peace. Piece by piece. I also told him that Uwe had just been released from state prison and that this action was the reaction to previous actions. Ha ha, another Mastercard moment.

Uwe was mostly well ahead of me and left collected rubbish mounts to be picked up along my way.

My oversized rubbish bag filled up quickly and showed signs of wear and tear, and we’re not even halfway there. It won’t make it to our destination, which is still a long way to go. The bag also added a few extra kilograms of weight to my total poundage.

Uwe realized how determined I was with this collection of junk. 10 points for trying.

This coastline is lined with luxurious holiday housing for the rich and the famous from all around the world. But no money is spent to teach and employ locals to pick up the rubbish from their beaches. It would help EVERYONE.

It was Uwe’s turn to carry Kuifie’s little rubbish bag, he may have felt sorry for me.

Or just wanted to get a move on, as I had Rick up in the air again.

Uwe walked up to one of the posh villas and up the stairs.

He dropped the rubbish bag off at one of the houses, stepped down again, and waited for me in the shade. Rick was following him all the way.

When I got there, his cheeky grin was thinking ‘Okay, it’s done. You proved your point. Can we get going now?’

And so we did. It wasn’t long before I pulled my synthetic red shopping bag out and continued my collection. Maybe it is Xmas after all?

Four young villagers were gathered by the beach ahead. One had a fishing hand-line handy casting hook and sinker into the surf.

The other three were younger, around the 10-year-old mark.

A thin bamboo stick pushed cuttlefish bones through the sand, like a jet-ski. I liked that.

I passed them a few times, only to stop and take a few photos. And to pick up some rubbish.

Right in front of their nose and minded my own garbage.

My action caused the reaction I hoped for.

The three young boys followed me and dropped plastic into my bag with such enthusiasm it was wonderful to see.

I gave Uwe the camera and the director’s seat as my little helpers spread out to collect rubbish.

Cartwheeling on the go.

It was such a joy to enjoy this moment.

It didn’t take much to animate my three wee helpers.

I didn’t offer them any money but gave them some after all.

20 Meticais each is all I had left in cash. The best 3 Dollars I have spent in a long time.

I would have given them more for future inspiration, but that’s all the cash I had left.

Now I had the biggest grin on my chin as Uwe gave me the thumbs up. Lekker, man!

I was left with a red shopping bag full of plastic snatched from my backpack. Furthermore, I had an empty two-liter bottle of wine in my hand which was handed to me before.

We still had a long way to go.

The endless beach eventually stopped as we reached the northern tip of this peninsula.

A volcanic outcrop of molten lava boulders most likely created this peninsula as sand was shifted onto the rocks and southwards. These boulders are still edgy and sharp, they haven’t been weathered by natural forces for long. They are relatively young in Mother Earth’s history.

Seen are the tube-like chambers in the rocks where toxic gases ventilated and escaped as the lava cooled down.

Of course, I took Rick to the sky. We came a long way and I won’t be here again for a while, that’s for sure. I wanted to take a photo of the two of us, Uwe and myself, facing south, facing the way we came.

But Uwe disappeared and had already climbed the ‘high tide dune bypass’. He was on a mission.

He shouted out rude words, I believe, and made a gesture pointing to his clock. It’s time.

‘This is the best time, it’s sunset’ I yelled back. I don’t think he heard me.

And that’s the last we see of ‘Uns Uwe’.

Until I reached Benji’s Party Deck and bar. Everyone was there. Uwe helped me up the steep stairs as my back was loaded. Tanya, Christa and Wessel, and even Alexa and Toffee came to celebrate my triumphant entry to the bar area. Or so I thought. ‘There are no rubbish bins here and that rubbish doesn’t get into my car.’ I heard. It was like deflating my tire. How can we get used to all this garbage lying around us. Are we at that stage where nothing else matters. There is nothing we can do? We just let pollution take over because that’s the way it is. That’s the way it has always been? I beg to differ:

Every little thing helps. And knowing that my three wee helpers may walk along the beach next time and pick up some rubbish is a pleasing thought.

Die Moral von dieser G’schicht, die kenne ich leider nicht.

But the first cold beer tasted extremely well, as Uwe and I had reasons to celebrate. A day that we both won’t forget.

Not for a while anyways. It took us around 8 and a half hours to complete this beach migration.

Rubbish stops and drone air time included. Walking barefoot on soft sand, in high demand.