Jeffreys Bay

Khoekhoe herders and, later, trekboer farmers used this stretch of dune and fynbos long before a town existed; the bay itself was named by Portuguese navigators for St Francis. The settlement dates from 1849, when the firm of Jeffrey & Glendinnings opened a store on the shore, and the place took the senior partner's name. For its first century it was a modest fishing and holiday village of a few streets above the beach, known chiefly for the shells that wash up around the point.

Surfing changed everything. The right-hand point break at what became known as Supertubes was found by travelling surfers in the 1960s, and the town appeared in the surf films and magazines that carried the search for perfect waves around the world, most famously in the 1966 film The Endless Summer, which reached the nearby Cape St Francis. Surfers began to arrive from Australia, the United States and Europe, camping in the dunes and then staying, and the point now hosts a World Surf League contest each July.

From the 1970s the town spread along the coast with holiday houses, retirement developments and, later, factory stores for the surf clothing brands that grew up here. The population has increased rapidly since 1994, with the townships inland growing alongside the coastal suburbs, and the municipality has struggled to extend services at the same pace. A wind farm on the hills behind the town, in operation since 2014, added a new industry to a local economy otherwise built on holidays and the sea.

Surfing is the town's culture more than its pastime. The point governs the daily routine of a large part of the population: the swell forecast is checked before anything else, board shapers and repairers work from garages and small factories, and surf-clothing labels founded here export worldwide. In July the professional contest brings international competitors and crowds, and the town runs on the rhythm of heats and waiting periods for a week or more.

Away from the water, life is that of an Eastern Cape coastal town. Afrikaans is widely spoken, isiXhosa is the language of the townships inland, and English is common in the visitor economy. Churches are numerous and well attended, rugby and football are followed keenly, and the school year and the December holidays shape the calendar as much as the swells do.

Shell collecting is an older local tradition, the beaches around the point being unusually rich in them, and the town is known for its shells as much as its surf. Craft markets, biltong makers and small food producers work the holiday trade. The gap between the holiday suburbs along the sea and the settlements inland is wide and openly discussed, and community organisations, surf outreach schemes and church groups work across it.

About 27,000 people lived in the town at the 2011 census, with the wider Kouga municipality taking in St Francis Bay, Humansdorp and the farming country behind the coast. That number rises steeply over the December holidays, when holiday houses fill and traffic backs up along the seafront road.

The economy runs on tourism, construction and property, on surf-related manufacturing and retail, and on farming, fishing and the squid industry of the nearby harbours. Seasonal work is the norm in hospitality and building, and unemployment is high, especially among young people in Pellsrus and the settlements inland. Many households depend on grants and on wages sent from larger cities.

The day starts before dawn on the beach, with surfers, walkers and fishermen out early, and the town is quiet by mid-evening outside the holiday weeks. Shops and services cluster along the main road, and residents drive to Humansdorp or Gqeberha for anything larger. Water supply in dry years, the state of roads and municipal services, and the pressure of new development on the dunes and estuaries are the constant local arguments.

Seafood is the mainstay. Line fish such as kob, elf and yellowtail are caught off the rocks and from small boats, calamari and squid landed at the harbours around St Francis are a regional speciality, and hake and chips is the common cheap meal. Prawns, mussels and calamari fill the seafood platters that most restaurants build a menu around, and smoked snoek and fish pâté are sold at the markets.

Inland traditions supply the rest. The braai is the weekend default, with boerewors, lamb chops and sosaties over coals, often followed by potjiekos, the slow stew cooked in a three-legged pot. Biltong and droëwors, air-dried spiced meat, are sold in butcheries and farm stalls, and Karoo lamb appears on steakhouse menus. Xhosa staples — umngqusho, samp and beans, and umphokoqo with soured milk — are the everyday food of the townships, and shisa nyama grills cook meat to order.

Sweet things follow the Cape repertoire: koeksisters, melktert and malva pudding. Coffee shops along the seafront are busy from early morning with surfers, and rooibos, the red bush tea of the Western Cape, is the standard alternative. Craft beer is brewed in the district, and the fortified and table wines of the Eastern Cape and the Klein Karoo turn up on local wine lists alongside those of the Western Cape.