The Salt Shepherd
“Bring hulle! Bring hulle!” The mezzo-soprano voice of the salt shepherd echoes across the open fields of dry earth on a farm near Vleesbaai on the Southern Cape coast. His two devoted sheepdogs, Gizmo and Leeu, run out and wide, flanking the flock of Merino sheep, before driving them forward to the young farmer who stands patiently in the sea breeze, waiting to inspect them.
Despite Jurie Müller’s classic , the lanky 32-year-old isn’t your typical farmer. On the contrary, for someone who was born and raised on a farm, it’s amazing that the sea is as much a part of him now as this age-old land. Looking at him studying his sheep and dogs at work, I’m reminded of the first time I saw him, standing on Chapman’s Peak, staring out across the cold Atlantic at a big-wave spot called Dungeons in Hout Bay. Now I see the same look of perception and wonder in his eyes, and the earnest desire to “know stuff” that is key to this multi-talented South African. He
