Lockdown Diary

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Lockdown Level 5

Everyone confined to their residences with exception to essential services. Leaving of residence only permitted for essentials. International and interprovincial travel prohibited. Sale of alcohol and tobacco prohibited.

Day 1.

Tensions have started to rise. Chris and I had our first argument over the semantics of 'stock-piling'. I don't know how much more we can take of this.

Day 3.

I've muted my family group on Whatsapp. They talk far too much and I keep thinking the messages are from someone I want to talk to.

I have started the push-up challenge in the hopes of giving my life a purpose.

Day 4.

I have quit the push-up challenge. Why must my body suffer along with my mind?

Day 7.

I am a criminal. At least that's how I feel after venturing outside to go shopping. I found myself holding my breath while passing my fellow man in the shops. What is this man I'm becoming?

Day 9.

Chris bought 1 ply toilet paper. I am not emotionally stable enough to deal with this. Its not only the country that's on lockdown now. Its my anus as well.

Day 11.

With the absence of traffic, suburban wildlife have taken over the streets. Pigeons congregate on corners, making catcalls at passing doves. A racial dispute has resulted in a turf war between the starlings and common blackbirds and squirrels no longer look both ways before crossing. Lawlessness and savagery are the order of the day. Society is descending into anarchy.

Day 12.

Chris sneezed at 10:45 am. I am two paragraphs into his eulogy. He will be missed. His toilet paper will not.

Day 14.

Lockdown extended by 2 weeks. Words cannot describe my mental state.

Day 15.

It rained this evening. They say 'the wetter the better' so I sat outside. They were wrong.

Day 16.

The passive aggressive nature of myself and Christopher has resulted in arguments being reduced to stare-downs. Tension is palpable until someone breaks and changes the subject.

Day 17.

Chris tried to entice a squirrel onto our balcony by showing it his nuts. He did not pick up the humour in that statement.

I had two teabags in one cup today. Life really is worth living. I refolded my shirts while riding the high. I must not fly too close to the sun.

Day 18.

I befriended a hairy caterpillar today. It did not like being touched. He will not survive the emotional abuse I rained down upon him.

I defy anyone on God's green earth to eat an apple louder than Chris.

Day 20.

A Woman drove past and asked me what I was taking pictures of. I told her to mind her *&^%ing business. Her mobility scooter made for an awkward getaway.

Day 21.

I did 100 jumping squats this morning in an effort to release some endorphins. I can already tell it was a terrible mistake. I shall pay dearly for my foolishness for the next 2 to 3 working days.

Day 23.

I have taken up photography as a past time. My pictures say more than a thousand words. I’m like the Donald Trump of photography: Hopelessly incompetent but supremely confident in my abilities. View my Lockdown Gallery here.

Day 24.

Chris has started exercising every second day. But one does not have to do exercise for it to count as an exercise day; you still get a rest day if you don’t do exercise. It’s truly revolutionary. Chris ate 4 brownies and two rusks and asked me if you can get diabetes in one day.

Day 25.

I can clarify, thanks to Kindle's dictionary, that reticence is the quality of being reticent. *&^% you Amazon.

Day 26.

I witnessed a spider stealing food from a line ants this morning. No ants were harmed, the spider was merely a good-for-nothing rogue. I suspect he was just trying to provide for his family in this difficult economic climate. You don't know his life. If only I had sufficient camera equipment I'd be in a documentary with my boy Dave by now. (You may know him as Sir Attenborough).

I’m starting the push-up challenge again.

Day 28.

I did not start the push-up challenge again. My relationship with birds is improving with sunrise balcony sessions. Their songs of salutation will lift the most wary of hearts. Except perhaps that of the Egyptian goose whom show not a shred of common decency to their fellow man.

Day 30.

I watched a documentary on island conservation and almost cried. Maybe the lockdown is getting to me.

Day 31.

We didn’t buy beers because we thought it would just be 3 weeks.

Day 32.

Have mosquitoes mastered the art of teleportation? Their wiles have thwarted both Chris and myself. They’ve been appearing in sealed rooms and wreaking havoc at the ungodliest of hours. What purpose do they even serve in the ecosystem?

Day 33.

I have baked 3, nay 4, loaves of bread now and not a single one has smelt or tasted like freshly baked bread. I’ve been misled by Jamie Oliver. Albeit edible, my bread more closely resembles the appearance and texture of bricks. I will persevere.

Day 34.

I started and stopped learning Zulu today. The self admiration of productivity was well worth the 30 minutes of mildly offensive pronunciation attempts. Gxagxaza was my undoing.

Lockdown Level 4

Everyone confined to their residences with exception to essential services. Exercise is permitted between the hours of 6am and 9am. Gradual opening of the economy begins. International and interprovincial travel still prohibited. Sale of alcohol and tobacco still prohibited.

Day 35.

We are legally allowed to exercise. I was not sufficiently hydrated for the 5km suburban run and paid the price in headaches.

Tension in the neighbourhood was palpable this morning with the presence of a hunting African Harrier-Hawk. The starlings made a ruckus and I heard the wind over his wings as he flapped within meters of our balcony as they chased him away. Nature is truly the best.

Day 37.

Our garage got broken into and my bicycle got stolen last night.

Did you know that Rhodes Memorial is part of San Parks and hence forbidden? I do now thanks to the authorities and an impending fine.

It has not been a good day.

Day 39.

I made the best banana bread of your life today.

Day 40.

It has been a week since Uber Eats opened their proverbial doors and Chris has not utilised their services even once. I feel like a proud father.

Day 41.

I have successfully made bread. What a glorious day this is.

Day 42.

After speaking to my supervisor, not only have I not been able to order the necessary parts for my dissertation (Reducing whale entanglements in fishing gear), but there have been payment issues for the maintenance needed on the UCT boat. The vessel needs repairs to be deemed sea worthy and will therefore not be allowed back in the water until they have been done.

A rattle was heard originating from the inner workings of my laptop this evening. By prying open the bottom I was able to work the object toward the opening, much like a marble maze game, and out popped a screw. I don't know where it came from and my laptop seems to work fine without it. I will be updating my laptop at more regular intervals going forward.

Day 43.

Chris wept today and it was one of the funniest moments of my life. We gave each other prison haircuts and tears burst from his eyes at the shocking sight of his. Best day of lockdown by far.

Day 44.

My puzzle arrived today. 1500 pieces is far more than you think.

Day 45.

My coefficient of thermal heat transfer has drastically improved since my prison cut. Not only has this affected my running, but brushing my fingers through my bristly hair is wildly satisfying as well.

Day 46.

The absence of the exfoliative affects of hiking and beach activities has resulted in the build-up of skin on the bottom of my feet. Sies. I shall now walk around the suburbs bare foot like a common street youth.

Day 47.

Polarized sunglasses have revolutionised puzzle building. The need to stand over the pieces to eliminate glare is a thing of the past.

Day 48.

Its seems Cape Town may be in lockdown for good. The government is aiming to have the whole country at level 3 by the end of May, apart from those places with high infection rates. Since Cape Town is leading the charge, I do not expect much freedom for the coming months. There is not enough gin and tonic in the world.

Day 49.

Winter is coming. I know this because a hesitation for mental preparation is needed before committing to the toilet seat.

The parts for my dissertation have been ordered and the boat is being fixed. All is not lost.

Day 50.

Thanks to weeks of inactivity, my hands are softer than the sole of a babe's foot, a state in which they haven't been in years. Months of conditioning on the climbing wall withered away for naught.

Day 51.

My mind if free to wander these days...

What information on avian behavior can be deigned from the shape of a bird's wing?

If I were a prehistoric hunter in the ice age, would I wear my deerskin jacket fur side in or fur side out to minimize heat transfer and therefore maximize warmth?

What are the limits of the synchronization of menstrual cycles, with regard to both population size and geographical proximity?

These are the questions that haunt me.

Day 52.

For the first time in my adult life, I am envious of people who have Ex Boxes, Play Stations and the Wee machines. Playing with multiple players on the line now seems like a favourable past time.

Day 53.

I made the mistake of rubbing my eye after chopping chillies for my mediocre curry. I've been crying for 2 hours. My eye is burning from the chilly residue as well.

Day 54.

Chris is not impressed with my sarcastic replies to what I deem stupid questions. The latest example being an inquiry into what 11 in 1 masala is. I have no time for frivolous conversation at this stage of lockdown.

Day 55.

With some urging, my car started for the first time in 8 weeks.

I treated myself to a lamb tchoppie for the first time in months this evening, and I have overcooked it. I'm barely holding myself together.

Day 56.

The simple change of eating dinner at the table outside has made dinner something to look forward to. A touch of home perhaps? A simple change in scenery maybe? I can't quite put my finger on it.

Day 57.

What a glorious morning it has been! Rainy suburban exploration revealed a beautiful stream, bubbling among trees dressed in rusty autumn leaves, blanketing their surroundings in rustling reds and golds. Life is good.

Day 58.

I found myself snacking today just because it was something to do.

Anyone else finding that TV is just something for your eyes to do while your brain wanders?

Day 59.

It would be nice to have another warm body in bed on these cold winter nights but Chris refuses no matter how many times I ask. I guess one shaved leg and my imagination will have to do.

Day 60.

By far the greatest sacrifice I've made this lockdown is allowing Chris to eat half of every banana bread I bake.

Day 61.

It's 10 degrees Celsius this morning. Can humans survive in these temperatures?

Day 62.

Chris turned 28 years old today. I bought him banana bread which turned out to be lemon sponge cake. It's the thought that counts anyway.

Day 63.

It turns out that the parts for my project were not ordered 2 weeks ago because the university took 20% of my funding for 'cost recovery' leaving us with insufficient funds. What a fun experience this is turning out to be.

Day 64.

One of my favourite games to play on Facebook these days is 'guess the function of the object' advertised on Wish.

I was curious about how much liquid I lost while running so I weighed myself before and after a 10km run and found that I sweated 1.4l. I am convinced however that I burnt more calories carrying the 18l of beer I purchased the 200m between the liquor store and my car.

Day 66.

After a particularly raucous night of inter-provincial beerpong over video-call, I slept at the bottom of the stairs, wrapped tightly in a warm blanket. Acute stiffness confirms that my neck is not as supple as it once was.

Lockdown Level 3

Exercise is permitted between the hours of 6am and 6pm. Gradual opening of the economy continues. Face masks mandatory when in public areas. Restaurants permitted with max 50 people and social distancing protocol in place. Interprovincial travel permitted under certain circumstances. Sale of alcohol and tobacco still prohibited.

Day 69.

There is nothing more infuriating than being duped by a recipe. 30 minutes at 230 deg C for a homemade pizza? My wildly carcinogenic charcoal crust tells a different story you lying swine.

Day 70.

My project parts have been ordered for real this time. Or so I'm told. The incompetence of the UCT integrated management system knows no bounds it seems. Bureaucratic hoop jumping has eradicated individual accountability resulting in blameless delays. Goodness gracious me I'm upset.

Day 72.

Last night was the coldest night I've spent indoors in my life. I was woken up by neck stiffness from bunching up my shoulders against the cold and slept submerged under the covers hoping that my breathe would warm up the space between the sheets. I mentioned to Chris that not having a girlfriend to provide warmth had become a health risk to which he replied that it always has been: Why do you think Life Insurers demand higher premiums from single men?

Day 75.

We received word today that the Volunteer Wildlife Services will not be recruiting firefighters this year due to Covid-19. Just when I thought the year could not take more away from me.

Day 77.

After complaining for weeks of his degenerating vision, Chris went to the optometrist today and has been prescribed glasses.

Within 10 minutes of having the small, element fan heater on, Chris complained of a cold draft descending from upstairs, brushing past his ear as it was displaced by the rising warm air. His senses seem to have heightened with his loss of vision.

Day 78.

I am positively giddy at the prospect of throwing a ball in the park tomorrow morning. It truly is the small things, is it not?

Day 80.

I decided to have a phone free Sunday today. I was disappointed at how many times I subconsciously reached for my phone in times of idleness.

Day 81.

The decision of which glasses frames to get has caused Christopher great stress. The day has been spent researching face shapes and corresponding frame designs. Video calls and digitally added glasses apps have been utilized and a collage of different options has been sent to family and friends for judging. Let's hope the optometrist hasn't put the order through already.

Day 84.

We finished the puzzle today. We received it on day 44. Now I really am running out of things to do.

I just went for a walk in the park and took my shoes off in the grass. It was magical.

I was still awake at 3am last night chasing f”@&ing mosquitos around my room. It seems there’ll be no respite from their scourge in winter.

Day 86.

With the opening of the surf board renting shops, I went for a surf this morning. Besides being horrifically unfit and taking 10 minutes to get out to the breakers, the crowds of fellow surfers made me feel very irresponsible. I lasted 30 minutes before paddling ashore.

Day 87.

My project parts have not actually been ordered. This time it was the middle man not returning the purchase order to UCT to release the funds.

This has been rectified and the order has now been placed by the middle man.

Day 90.

My brother got the go ahead from the church for an intimate wedding and so I will be legally changing residence to Joburg for 3 weeks.

Day 92.

The long drive up to Joburg commenced today with travel permit in hand, a document which was checked only once as entering Williston. My temperature was taken, deemed acceptable, and I was given the all clear. I wonder what they would have done if I'd been too hot? I'd already travelled 500km.

A fridged night in the Karoo was just what the doctor ordered, although a good night sleep was too much to ask for.

Day 95.

Is there any greater honour than having an infant child named after you? I met baby Michael today, a first born of my groom-to-be brother's closest friends. Peak-a-boo pillow proved to be wildly entertaining to his simple mind and I spent most of the afternoon thinking of entertaining things to try to test his development.

Day 98.

The dry Joburg air has indirectly resulted in me abandoning shoes around the house in an effort to avoid shocking the bejesus out of myself every time I touch something metal. The combination of the physical shock and resulting emotional trauma of the static electric discharge are too much to bare.

Day 100.

And then my brother was married. And what a glorious day of nuptial celebrations it was. I was far more nervous than my brother seemed to be, so much so that I asked the Father if 'he came here often?'. The reception included many photos, one of which I awkwardly touched one of the bride's breasts while holding a pose neither of us were completely comfortable with but were obligated to perform at the directions of the all powerful photographer.

Day 102.

I’m living fast and loose here in Joburg; seeing my family all the time and having the wedding with 15 people. I feel irresponsible and riddled with guilt but it seems to be the norm up here and others seem to have no shame. Why advertise on social media the gatherings you’ve had when it’s illegal? Ludicrous I tell you.

Day 103.

During a walk in the delta was the first time since moving away that I thought I could live in Joburg again.

I took my dog for the walk and it’s turns out he is a disgraceful oaf. Although very well behaved around humans and other big dogs, he instantly attacks smaller species in a show of dominance. For shame Benedick!

Day 105.

I decided a 10km run was in the cards for today. It turned out to be only 8km and the worst running experience of my life. The triple threat of high altitude, asthma and unfitness meant the last 5km were completed gasping, grunting and cursing the gods. I lay on my bedroom floor recuperating for a full 20 minutes, such was my state afterwards.

Two weeks ago, when I left Cape Town, it was the covid capital of South Africa. Johannesburg is now the epicenter.

Unrelated, I will be leaving in a few days after being told that all my parts for my project will be in by the end of the week.

Day 106.

My brother and his new wife have now bought a house. I can now barely see them they're so far ahead on the road to adulthood. I think my horse may have become confused and started heading in the wrong direction.

Day 107.

My supervisor called today to inform me that we need to submit a permit to work in False Bay. This permit may take a further 3 weeks. This is my life now.

Day 111.

Day 1 of the journey back to Cape Town. Am I too naive in trusting that a “fastest route” supplied by Google will not include sand roads? I spent a full 60km navigating potholes and rattling over gravel roads at 60kph. By the time I reached my destination, I had exhausted my entire arsenal of cuss words.

I’m hoping that by leaving the ventilation flaps on my tent closed tonight, the coefficient of thermal heat transfer will be significantly reduced.

Although I’m coping well with the cold, I would not decline an offer of gloves. Reading has become a hazardous past time in the frigid night air.

Day 112.

Google has again included 137km of gravel road on my journey, but having lost my trust I am much less annoyed as I expected no better.

I arrived home to a clean house and a hermit of a roommate.

Day 114.

Every time I walk from the shower to my bedroom I inform Chris that I am naked as the day I was born. He does not enjoy this and his discomfort brings me great joy.

Day 115.

While walking home after a hike, a homeless man appeared out of no where and asked for some coin. Such was the fright that the words “holy shit” sprang unconsciously from my lips and I could do nothing but awkwardly continue on my original trajectory. Most impolite on my part indeed.

Day 118.

My laptop won’t turn on today. It’s had a solid 6 years of service. I think I’m giving up my masters.

Day 120.

I went to the climbing gym for the first time in 3 months. 2 hour sessions are booked online before hand to control numbers in the gym. Hand sanitizer was issued at the door along with a temperature check and liquid chalk is mandatory as it’s more hygienic. These are going to be truly crazy times to look back on when this is all over.

Day 123.

SANParks does not want to give us a permit to work in the bay as it’s whale season. I’m no longer surprised by further delays and I’m inclined to agree because with my luck, I will entangle a whale in my test gear and then I’ll be ethically obligated to forfeit my masters.

Day 125.

After collecting my Galvanic Timed Releases (GTRs) and Electronic Timed Release (ETR), I found that the GTRs are the wrong size and the ETR only came with once release, meaning that we'll only be able to trigger it once. I am now in a vicious email argument where ‘as per my previous email’ s are shot from the hip and ‘regards’ follows ‘kind’ no longer, having no need of his services hence forth. 'Mike' has been abandoned to be replaced by 'Michael Daniel' until the issue is resolved. Only then will ‘Thanks’ and ‘kind’ be employed once more.

Day 128.

I’m having a moral dilemma with travelling to socially responsible outdoor activities with friends. Do we share a car and be environmentally conscious or do we travel separately to mitigate the risk of spreading covid-19. Only time will tell if I come out the other side of these dark times.

Day 135.

Reading has been a favourite past time during this lockdown and as a result I have read more books than ever before. Diverse in subject, they range from modern classics, science and historical fiction, to Adventure, fantasy and biographies. I am happy to make recommendations should you ask my opinion.

Besides reading, I’ve improved my photography skills, dipped my toe into data science with machine learning and Spacial Analysis, and all the while keeping up to date with my masters and the subject of ropeless fishing systems. I scarcely believe there’ll be another year where I learn a greater array of skills.

Day 138.

I bought myself a tub of ice cream for the first time since leaving home 3.5 years ago and it is already one of the best things to happen to me in 2020.

Day 141.

I went for a snorkel for the first time in over 4 months and it was glorious!

Lockdown Level 2

Alcohol will be back on sale from Monday to Thursday, as well as tobacco. 10pm to 4am curfew still applies. Household gatherings with friends and family is permitted (<10 people) and interprovincial travel is allowed once again. Face masks still mandatory in public areas. International travel prohibited.

Day 145.

We hiked Mont Rochelle today in the hopes of finding some snow. We found what we were looking for, albeit at an unattainable distance, but the hike was made well worth the effort with a baked goods smelling protea and the cutest little chameleon of your life.

Day 148.

Chris made the outrageous claim today that he will not be getting Uber Eats for the next 3 months. I have duly documented the date.

Day 149.

I defy you to find a mother more gentle with her infant child than a surfer transferring their board from the motor vehicle to the floor while preparing for the water.

Day 153.

For the past few weeks I’ve reduced the amount of sugar in my tea from 2 to 1 teaspoon. I have subsequently realized that my life has become proportionally less enjoyable. I shall be going back to 2.

Day 157.

I was neither physically nor mentally prepared for the 70km cycle I thrust upon myself this morning. Two slices of toast were not sufficient sustenance and some son of a b*tch overtook me on a fixi going up Chapman’s peak.

Day 160.

It seems too much to assume punctuality from my fellow Cape Townians.

Day 161.

There are not many things that make me irrationally angry but I found one in squeaky windscreen wipers. This being a Cape Town winter for the books, these conditions are not uncommon and the wipers are enough to have me cursing in the rain.

Day 165.

I was introduced to some hardened sea dogs while observing on a octopus fishing boat today in False Bay. Team work truly makes the dream work onboard but bad weather meant an early docking in the harbour.

Day 168.

A day of flying a remote operated vehicle in the harbour and shoveling concrete made for a happy man, albeit with a worse off back. It was further tested while hauling said concrete along with 200m of line off the sea floor. I’m a better man for it.

Day 170.

I reached a 1 minute breath hold while snorkeling today and it was absolutely exhilarating.

Time for a rant. I have recently been looking for potential marine conservation volunteering projects around the world in the hopes of finding one which will accept my free labour in exchange for a minimum of accommodation. Unfortunately I have been sorely disappointed as most establishments not only want me to pay to work for them, but insist on charging such exorbitant fees that I am left at a loss for words other than the profane. R62000 for 8 weeks is one such example, which excludes flights. And this is not an uncommon figure. Another offered R65000 for 12 weeks. That’s more than most young engineers EARN in three months. The best I’ve found so far is R48000 for 12 weeks. These all offer food and accommodation, the latter often of the tented or communal variety. Now these positions are all targeted at graduates, both under and post. It defies belief that these organizations exist when they expect young professionals not only to work for them for free, but pay excessive quantities to do so. Its a slap in the face to my hard earned qualification, undermining its value completely. The very fact that these prices are charged shows the nature of the job market for marine graduates; the desperate need for experience. Something these organizations seem to be exploiting. It’s absolute daylight robbery.

Day 171.

Last night I had a pillow flinch of such magnitude that I briefly considered the existence of the spirit realm and it’s inhabitant’s abilities in punching the subconscious of the living.

Day 174.

Thesis field work has officially begun! First rope test results today!

Day 175.

Today could have gone better. Not only did an anchor come loose because of my shotty knot tying, but my finger nearly got ripped off and now I’m in hospital.

My room in the private hospital has more square footage than our flat. I am living in luxury. Although comfortable in the ward, it is slightly daunting being surrounded by hospital staff in full covid PPE at all times.

As it turns out, not only did the finger tip almost slice off, but my tendon has ripped a piece of bone off the end. Pins will therefore be needed to reattach the bone and it will be necessary to be hospitalised for a few nights on antibiotics.

Day 176.

I don’t know what medication they’re giving me here but I swear to you, my urine smells like scrambled eggs.

I have found that the hospital bed's optimal back rest height for reading is when the coefficient of friction between the pillow case and the sheets is no longer high enough to hold the pillow in equilibrium. The same cannot be said for the sleeping position. Optimal height has yet to be found but I have no problem toggling between positions and making fine adjustments at the ungodliest of hours. I have to be awake for routine blood pressure tests in any case.

Day 177.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss the comfort of family just before going into theatre. I resigned my destiny to fate and came out groggy and slurring on the other side. I had to be wheeled to my post-op x-rays such was the state of my drowsiness. I'll be released today though so it must have gone well.

Lockdown Level 1

Alcohol sales permitted throughout the week. Curfew change from 12pm to 4am. Face masks still mandatory in public areas. International travel permitted. Economy basically fully open.

Day 178.

Do you know what I’ve found is easier with one hand? Nothing.

Day 179.

These antibiotics are wreaking absolute havoc on my digestive system. Yogurt has become my breakfast of choice but I’ve now had to add 1kg of apples and a large bag of raisins to the inventory in an effort to quite the storm that’s raging in my bowels.

There’s a battle being waged in my stomach and the good guys are not winning.

Day 181.

I have a new lease on life after my first checkup and dressing change today. Dried blood in gauze should be considered as an industrial adhesive after the harrowing experience I just went through. Such was the pain of the peeling and pulling that I was left drenched in sweat and light headed. I had to call my mom and buy a coke on the way out to calm my shattered nerves.

Day 182.

My acoustic release finally arrived!

Day 185.

I have scarcely felt more strongly independent than when I successfully changed a double duvet cover while physically disabled.

Day 187.

Fitness is Christopher’s passion. True to his word, he hasn’t had Uber eats in 5 weeks and he’s run two days in a row.

Day 190.

Two pigeons have nested in a tree next to our balcony. One of them always seems to have their eye on me. They’re making me feel uncomfortable in my own home.

My acoustic release is not working. I have sent urgent emails to the supplier to ‘please advise’.

Day 192.

I went along for a snorkel today with some mates. It turned out to be the best visibility in years while I lay on the beach, splinted finger and all. It was the unhappiest I’ve been in a long time. I don’t know if I’ll go along again.

Day 193.

I turned 28 years old today. I shall be having no more than a few beers with the boys this evening to celebrate.

Day 194.

I slept on the couch last night after beers with the boys turned into G&Ts and wine with Bodi. I have been in the fetal position for quite some time now.

Day 195.

What a glorious night of homemade pizza with the Bader sisters! Our culinary knowledge blended together to create topping combinations of quality hitherto unseen in The Nursery. And without a shred of meat I might add.

The supplier of the acoustic release did advise. I was to disassemble the acoustic release and change the batteries. We hence had our first successful release of a ropeless fishing system today. We have lift-off.

Day 197.

My official birthday celebration (women included) came in the form of day drinking during suit-up wine tasting in the Constantia winelands. Our attire matched the quality of the wine to perfection.

Day 200.

For the past two weeks I have been reading two books at the same time. One to satisfy my scientific curiosity and the other to escape into the world of fantasy. My intellectual prowess knows no bounds.

Day 204.

Chris went for a hike this morning with someone who was exposed to someone who may or may not have had Covid at the time. His food already tastes bland and is exhibiting many other symptoms. He went for said hike 2 hours ago.

Day 209.

This afternoon, on the way home from the boat, I went for a swim at the beach. It was crowded. I dropped down to a speedo, and to the chuckling of lesser men, waded into the shallows and descended onto my back while keeping my right hand above water. It was outrageous. And I loved it.

Day 211.

Long board skating this afternoon took me back to my youth when me and my boy Cookie ran the streets: Taunting the elderly with our vertigo inducing speed. Inviting condescending looks with our devil may care attitudes...

Mothers, lock up your daughters; there’re badasses in town. #badboysforlife #bombhillsnotcountries

Day 213.

Heritage day, quite ceremoniously, was our braai’s last day of service: It’s bottom fell out that evening minutes after the last lamb tjop was lifted off its grid. It served its country well.

I have since replaced it with a newer model, recycling the old grid and modifying it as a coal stand to allow better air flow and revolutionize the radiative properties of the braai. My genius literally knows no bounds.

I just showered with an uncovered right hand for the first time in 5 weeks. I felt like Evil Knievel it was so daring! It also meant I could wash my left arm and armpit properly for the first time. Cherish the little things children.

Day 216.

Today was my second attempt at a sub-20 minute 5km run and I’m happy to say it went successfully. I only had to collapse against a tree for 10-20 minutes to recuperate; well worth the months the exertion inevitably took off my life.

Day 220.

My finger pins came out today. Much more anticlimactic than I initially thought. Absolutely no pain. I asked if I could keep the pins but unfortunately due to the nature of my fellow 21st century man, doctors are not allowed to give sharp objects to patients in case of self inflicted injury. We truly live in the golden age of humankind.

Day 222.

Finger update. Movement is limited to 5 degrees and I cannot pick up a cup with just the thumb and index finger.

My wrists have also diminished in size without the regular exercise of climbing. As if 2020 couldn’t take more from me.

Day 226.

The beautiful Lexi prescribed some compression bandage for my finger as my occupational therapist. This bandage is a marvel of modern medicine; the swelling has significantly decreased in just 2 days.

Day 228.

I once again attempted the sub-20 minute 5km run but this time in the higher altitudes of Johannesburg. It was not successful but the result was the same: the lifespan of my heart has been considerably shortened by the strenuous nature of the activity, averaging 196 bpm with a maximum of 205.

Day 229.

Did you know if you book flysafair online you get priority tickets? I’ve never been such a happily pretentious arsehole in my life.

Day 230.

With the end in sight, I came home to learn that Chris has lost the Uber Eats bet by a mere 11 days. I have seldom seen such disappointment in a man's eyes.

Day 238.

Friday afternoon beers with Bodi and Mike got festive when I agreed to have my all-but-invisible Movember mustache mascaraed by one of the ladies. Such was the state of my inebriation that I promptly forgot about it and spent the rest of the night at the Forrester's Arms pub blissfully unaware of the state of my appearance.

Day 243.

Assisting with a boat trip to seal island today got interesting when we found a newly born seal pup seemingly lost. And so we caught him in a net and dropped him off closer to shore. I can now add seal handler to my CV.

Chris, very uncharacteristically I might add, has decided to spontaneously go to the UK to get his citizenship sorted out before Brexit makes that impossible. I now have the house to my self for the next 3 weeks. We shall see how I cope with crushing loneliness.

Day 246.

Friday afternoon beers with Bodi and Mike was agreed upon by both parties involved with the condition that a beer limit be set. Christian was nominated as the voice of reason, the lantern bearer if you will, having the job of “guiding us through the darkness.” He did no such thing and the result were some touch-and-go moments of nausea while bobbing in the swell during this morning's snorkelling session.

Day 250.

I could not be a happier man today. After weeks of slow progress with field work testing of ropeless fishing techniques, the Octopus fishery has decided to go with one of the designs I've been developing. Why even continue with my masters?

Day 253.

The previous three weekends have provided some of the best snorkelling conditions I have ever experienced. I have not only befriended seals, but have surpassed 10m depth and am regularly reaching 1 minute breath holds. What a time to be alive.

Day 255.

I am absolutely thriving living alone. I regularly rove the apartment fully nude in the late evenings and early mornings, basking in its freedom. I have become prone to soliloquize regularly, in a variety of accents, with verbal outbursts of anything from simple onomatopoeias, to in-depth philosophical questions and outrageous exclamations.

I simply love being able to socialise at times of my choosing. I am truly an introvert at heart.

Although it has only been 12 days, so I may be getting ahead of myself.

Day 261.

I have been absolutely lambasted for wearing yellow socks with my Christmas outfit. Never again shall I try to enliven my ensemble with a splash of colour! My red-faced embarrassment is overshadowed only by my shame.

Day 262.

The second wave of covid-19 has struck South Africa with a vengeance. This seems largely due to the irresponsibility of the youth and their insatiable need to carouse with inebriation. For shame parents of said adolescent souls! For shame!

As a result, hotspots have been declared and beaches have been closed to limit the spread.

Day 265.

Christmas time is family time and this year is no different with a family get-together in the eastern cape. Just in time for the beach prohibitions.

Day 268.

The gods of comedy handed us a silver spoon this evening in the form of a peel: the correct name for the large spade shaped instrument used in pizza logistics. Before long, innuendos were flowing like the waters of the mighty Yangtze: mouths proclaiming the importance of technique rather than size, the need for a tender yet firm grip, two hands for beginners, and 'take your hands off my peel!"

Lockdown Level 3

Curfew between the hours of 9pm and 6am. Gatherings prohibited. Face masks mandatory when in public areas. Sale of alcohol prohibited. Parks and beaches closed.

Day 276.

Our president made the tough call of putting the country into a harsher lockdown for New Years due to the 20 000 new daily cases. Not an easy job, and one that had our leader on the edge of tears.

Day 281.

After an intimate New Years celebration, I reached a hitherto unequaled height of laziness and cooked myself spiced rice for dinner. It was not merely the fact that my culinary career had reached an all time low, but rather that the dish was better than the homemade alfredo I had attempted the night before.

Day 287.

The resumption of climbing has brought with it open flesh wounds on the tools of this here trade: my hands. Unfortunately, a mother who has given birth sans the relief of local anesthesia was not part of our sample, and therefore could not confirm, but both Christian and myself agreed that there can be no greater pain than that experienced after rubbing hand sanitizer into the moist, virgin skin of a recently opened blister.

Day 290.

The final hurdle in this steeplechase that has been my dissertation is in sight at long last. But what an absolute bitch of an obstacle it is. The statistical dragon cannot be slain with the common weapons of logic or reason. Oh no! Here we must enter the mystical realm of the dark arts and blindly shoot the crossbow of ignorance. Does a statistical method exist that can be applied to my dataset without breaching its assumptions? Only the wisest of oracles know for certain, and they keep their wiles well hidden behind un-replied emails and unanswered WhatsApp messages.

Neither the battle nor the war hath been won thus far.

Day 295.

Mother Nature mocks me. For 9 months of 12 Cape Town is blown out or wetter than an otters pocket. She now produces cloudless days of oppressive heat and gentle cooling breezes. Oh how her beaches beckon! But alas, it shall not be, in level three. She is a most cruel bitch.

Day 299.

As so often happens, day turned into night.

Day 300.

Keeping pace with WRC champion A Gibson in car no 33 proves impossible.

Day 310.

My time in Cape Town came to an end today. I defy anyone to fit more into a 2007 Nissan x-trail than I have on this, the 31st day of January 2021, for the trip up to Port Elizabeth; the city I shall call my home until the burden of unemployment is lifted from my weary shoulders.

Day 311.

President Cyril has allowed us back onto the beaches, as well as alcohol.

Day 313.

Polished wooden floors and loose carpets have proven to be adequate ingredients for a death trap. Walk with any kind of impetus onto these slippery bastards and you will be flailing for your very life.

Day 314.

My arrival in Port Elizabeth has resulted in my return to the World Surfing League.

Day 317.

The day was off to a good start until I slipped and almost killed myself while walking to the kitchen for some much needed sustenance. Inside my own home no less. I have subsequently moved any and all carpets out of the main thoroughfares of the house for the safety of the inhabitant and any future guests he wishes to entertain.

Day 318.

I just went for a longboard on the promenade at 10am, on a week day.

My life has no meaning.

I am a burden on society.

Day 321.

I am currently weighing in at 75kg; a hulking beast of a man. I have at least 10 hairs on my chest and I have to shave once a week to avoid looking new-homeless. Have I finally hit puberty at the tender age of 28 years old? Only time will tell.

Notify the womenfolk.

Day 324.

My current occupation is that of the filthy beach bum. I can be seen cycling along the promenade, surfboard under arm, at any time of the day.

Day 325.

In the fading light of twilight, with the tendrils of darkness working their way toward the western horizon, I stood on a thorn while traversing a grassy park on my way home from a sunset surf session. Previously trusted as thorn-less, my world was turned upside down. Retracing my steps was incomprehensible in the low visibility. I had no option but to trudge on, unknowing when the next needle of pain would render me incapacitated for 3-5 seconds. The suspense was tortuous. I managed to cross the remainder of the park unscathed, but the psychological damage had been done. Never again shall I trod these recreational grounds with the uncaring gait of the ignorant stroller!

Day 332.

A weekend getaway to a game reserve was the perfect excuse to spend some time with the family up in Joburg. Baby rhinos, giraffes and flying bananas (yellow-billed hornbills) were some of the wildlife we beheld whilst in the bush.

The week got interesting when I decided to throw caution to the wind and brave a bee sting without the assistance of an antihistamine, something I have never done before. I wanted to know how my body would react should I find myself in such a predicament in my adventurous future. A perfectly logical experiment, in my mind, while in the relative safety of a big city, and under the watchful eye of my sister-in-law, Dr Dan. Needless to say I survived, albeit with substantial swelling and sensitivity for 3 to 4 working days thereafter.

I have put antihistamines in all of my hiking and travelling bags.

Lockdown Level 1

Curfew between the hours of 11pm and 4am. Gatherings permitted. Face masks mandatory when in public areas. Sale of alcohol permitted. Parks and beaches open.

Day 340.

Is there anything more infuriating than being a fully grown adult and not being able to open a treat of some kind because the packaging glue proves stronger than the holy bond of marriage?

Day 350.

The rollercoaster ride that was my dissertation has ended. The finish-line has been crossed. The mountain has been summitted. The light at the end of the tunnel has been reached.

Sobriety will be shot at sundown.

Day 354.

I really need to buy more snacks if I want to be a happier person.

A wife would also be nice.

Day 365.

Oh look. We've been in lockdown for a year.

Day 368.

With the hopes of extending my friendship circle, I joined a girls night out on Friday. 3l of beer later and I was sokkieing in an open roofed dancing bar on the outskirts of Gqeberha. At some point, regrettably, I slut dropped one of the girls, making, and ruining, some new friendships. I spent the next day nursing one of the worst hangovers in living memory, mock charging the toilet bowl multiple times, before falling asleep in the fetal position on the couch. This resulted in the tweaking of a calf muscle which has been stiff for 3 days now.

Day 377.

A stroke of beginners luck resulted in a perfect 10/10 at the shooting range during my brother's bachelors party. This will make for an auspicious brag with the fairer sex.

Day 386.

Wedding day. My sister in law told me I was uncharacteristically fashionable today. I don't know whether to be offended or elated.

Once again, I was more nervous than the groom. The wedding planner offered me some anxiety medication. I really need to get it together.

As MC's, we put on a performance worthy of Hugh Jackman's 'The Greatest Showman'. I do not believe I am exaggerating.

Day 395.

Back in the city formally known as Port Elizabeth. Cooking in quantities high enough for a minimum of 4 meals has its ups and downs. While the ups are obvious, the downs are less so. One example being that should the chef's instincts betray him, the palate will be assaulted for 4 whole meals.

Day 400.

There are few things I’ve ever had less control over than a BMW f800gs in soft sand. It opened my eyes to my in-competencies as both a motorcyclist and a man.

Day 408.

Something strange and mysterious is happening in my bathroom. A shower mat placed on the floor becomes sodden, absorbing water coming out of a crack between tiles. However, remove the mat, and no puddle is produced. What sorcery is this?

Day 411.

Wildlife relocations can now be added to my CV. I am not exaggerating when I say that today I lifted a buffalo and wrestled a sable antelope into a truck. Seldom have I been happier.

Day 420.

I am sustainability.

At the behest of my grandmother, I used a chicken carcass from a roast to make soup. To this soup, I added fresh celery and an unidentified lettuce like leaf from the garden. This meal, fit for Oliver Twist himself, paired beautifully with half a loaf of Ciabatta.

The soup did not taste good.

Day 420.

The stress of everyday life was shown most terrifically by a fellow citizen of earth stuck in traffic today. After spraying my windscreen clean, I noticed the car behind me becoming more aggressive with each passing moment. He finally got his gap, swerved around and in front of me and screeched to a halt. He then sprayed and cleaned his windscreen. The residual droplets landing on my windscreen enlightened me to the situation: I had dirtied his car, and what I was experiencing was a dish best served cold.

Day 422.

My childhood friend Christian tweaked his back from laughing in the back of a Jimny. You had to be there. We truly are in prime physical condition.

Day 427.

Have you seen the new Lego Strelitzia? It’s simply beautiful. Unfortunately, it costs R2000. One day, it shall be displayed in my household as a symbol of wealth. Guests will view it and know we engage in financial frivolity on a regular basis in the house of Michael.

Day 430.

Level 2 you sly dog, welcome back.

Lockdown Level 2

Curfew between the hours of 11pm and 4am. Gatherings permitted. Face masks mandatory when in public areas. Sale of alcohol permitted 10am to 6pm Monday to Friday. Parks and beaches open.

Day 440.

You don’t get hugs when you live alone.

Day 446.

Ah, Level 3! We weren't expecting you. Make yourself at home.

Lockdown Level 3

Curfew between the hours of 10pm and 4am. Gatherings permitted. Face masks mandatory when in public areas. Sale of alcohol permitted 10am to 6pm Monday to Thursday. Parks and beaches open.

Day 458.

Level 4, I presume?

Lockdown Level 4

Curfew between the hours of 9pm and 4am. Gatherings permitted. Face masks mandatory when in public areas. Sale of alcohol prohibited. Parks and beaches open.

Day 465.

Is there any better friend than one that makes you cheesecake?

Yes.

A girlfriend.

But a friend who makes you cheesecake is a close second.

Day 468.

I hurt my hand squeezing a bottle of honey a little too enthusiastically today. My age is finally catching up with me it seems. I can no longer live with the same devil may care attitude I did in my youth.

Day 469.

The country has descended into anarchy with the jailing of former president Jacob Zuma. Will we ever be free of his scourge?

Day 474.

While feeling a little down, I baked a cake today. I now feel equally bad, but in a different sense after eating all the leftover batter and icing.

Day 478.

I can confirm that onion juice in an open flesh wound is excruciatingly painful. Comparable, I can only imagine, to child birth, or perhaps stepping on a Lego.

Day 483.

My cousin is an Olympian. An Olympian. My cousin.

Meanwhile, I ate 2 Tinkies after dinner tonight. My descent into obesity has begun.

Day 486.

Level 3 is back.

Lockdown Level 3

Curfew between the hours of 10pm and 4am. Gatherings permitted. Face masks mandatory when in public areas. Sale of alcohol permitted 10am to 6pm Monday to Thursday. Parks and beaches open.

Day 490.

I inadvertently sexually harassed a waitress by smacking my lips at a meal as she turned around. My face became a shining beacon of shame.

Day 500.

Fishing for sympathy with a lonely gif was completely ignored on the Cape Town friends group. I have officially been dropped and forgotten like last nights earbud.

Day 511.

9:29. J&J vaccine administered to left arm.

16:47. Should I still be cold from my surf 3 hours ago? A warm cup of hot chocolate will make me right as rain.

16:51. I have burnt my tongue.

The vaccine should have just killed me.

17:35. This chill in my bones must be from malnutrition. Or dehydration perhaps? I didn’t sleep very well last night either.

19:09. I have to accept the truth. The weak link in the Daniel gene has been found. It is I. A body once thought invincible has crumbled before a vaccine produced by baby powder specialists. Oh how the mighty have fallen! My now fragile mind no longer holds dominion over the thermo-regulatory power house of the body. How I shall miss the petrichor of rain-moistened grass and the gentle kiss of the butterfly’s proboscis on my salty skin! As a final wish, please inscribe the following on my tombstone: “Here lies Michael “the weak” of house Daniel. He lived a relatively long life, but not as long as his Xonix field ranger water resistant 50m digital watch.

19:15. Why can’t they make vaccines that are contagious? Did I just solve the worlds medical problems?

19:20. Slowly winds the wheel of time for the stricken!

21:15. Yissis. Thank the mystic warlords of Ka’a for Panado.

If I wake up on the morrow, bathe me in maidens for I shall have won a great victory!

Day 512.

I am alive. That got a bit out of hand there if we’re honest.

Day 515.

A random, moderately attractive young woman laughed at my Instagram story. I had to put my phone down before a spontaneous marriage proposal was sent in reply.

Day 516.

I just bought a massive piece of cake for only R20! It does not taste good.

Day 533.

I came very close to complaining about the weight of my bag during a hike in the Cape's Rocklands until we passed a man with one leg doing the same trail. Instant reality check.

Lockdown Level 2

Curfew between the hours of 11pm and 4am. Gatherings permitted. Face masks mandatory when in public areas. Sale of alcohol permitted 10am to 6pm Monday to Thursday. Parks and beaches open.

Day 537

I just laughed until I cried at a meme about begging a poop to flush in a strangers toilet. Life is good. It made the friends I am currently staying with, very uncomfortable.

It also warmed me up physically on this cold Cape Townian night. Note taken.

Day 544.

Successfully banished a red wine stain from a white collared shirt. I am the strongest of independent women.

Lockdown Level 1

Curfew between the hours of 12pm and 4am. Gatherings permitted. Face masks mandatory when in public areas. Sale of alcohol permitted before 11pm. Parks and beaches open.

Day 553.

Petrol price is dropping by a whole 1c per litre tomorrow. I can finally buy myself something nice with the savings I’ll be making.

Day 558.

I turned 29 today. My day involved exploring second hand book stores, drinking beer with a legendary man with whom I share this celebration: my grandfather, who turned a young 85, and dinner with the extended family. I cannot complain.

My friends had a bigger jol without me in Cape Town.

Day 562.

My new Xonix field ranger watch not only has 50m water resistance like its predecessor, but has a light as well. And all for only R250. I am inexplicably happy with my purchase.

Day 565.

Something I love, and simultaneously absolutely hate about myself, is the confidence with which I go into cooking a meal without a recipe, despite the mountain of historical data that suggests otherwise.