In the period we call peak whale season here (known as September and October to those who don’t live in the Overberg region) something caught my eye on the land. At the start of spring I noticed two fleshly flat leaves on the fynbos floor. A plant that seemed a bit strange when compared to the hardy fynbos around, a bit unusual. It was growing in the limestone-derived soil of the coastal fynbos environment, basking in the sun, subject to the cold ocean breeze and lying at a low altitude. How and why are these two leaves popping up seemingly out of nowhere while we walk across the tip of Africa?
Spring’s Subtle Shifts Along the Trail
One beautiful thing about walking in nature so often is that you can notice the growth, the subtle change of the plants and flowers around you. At the start of our Walk with Whales, in September, the paths were filled with colour as the annual wild flowers came. The kapokbos were in full bloom, the dune salad flowers burst with yellow and somehow I kept noticing how these strange leaves quietly grew bigger with each passing week.
The Mystery of the Emerging Tubers
My first guess was that it must be some sort of bulbous plant, coming out of hibernation. I was close but not exactly right. They are known as tubers. Unlike bulbs which form layers year after year, these plants actually have tuberous roots – a storage organ similar to the bulb but each year the tube dries out and a new one is formed. Towards the end of September the plants started growing these tall stout spikes straight from the ground. Almost asparagus-like reaching 30-70cm in length, they were green, hardy and un-eaten by most animals in the area. October’s warmth and the southeasterly winds brought these strange looking plants into colour. Their pink flowers filled the paths.
The Reveal: The Pink Satyre (Die Rooikappie)
Finally, I was able to unmistakably identify these plants I had been observing over the last month on our Walk with Whales. The Pink Satyre. Die Rooikappie. An actual wild orchid. The once-asparagus-looking head transformed into many little orchid flowers. Each flower had the distinctive orchid lip and a pair of curved spurs (long nectar tube). Their colour palette was a dance of pinks, with a perfect pink outer and a pastel pink and white inner. These plants form part of a small group of terrestrial orchids in the genus Satyrium – scientifically known as Satyrium carneum – and are endemic to the southwestern Western Cape of South Africa. I couldn’t believe how incredible this growth and transformation had been. I couldn’t believe that I was lucky enough to observe this incredible flower. A flower which lies dormant for much of the year but blossoms brightly across September, October and November. Coinciding perfectly with the movement of the whales.
A Moment of Stillness Among the Fynbos
We stopped to have a break for one of the delicious hiking snacks provided by Wild Wellness. A tube of winegums was joyfully shared and consumed as we sat amongst the coastal fynbos, tall orchids sticking out from the dune-shrubs. Then the pollinators came to play. The sunbirds. Small, swift and shimmering with colours. My vision was filled with the pink of the orchids, the blue of the sea, the black of my winegum in hand and the metallic-green and red of this double-collared sunbird. What a sight.
A Pollination Dance Between Orchid and Sunbird
Much like a hummingbird, the sunbird hovers close to the opening of an individual orchid and sucks out nectar from the spur. Only birds with a suitably shaped beak or tongue can reach it effectively. That inaccessibility leads to a specialised pollination relationship. One that ensures the sunbird is almost always rewarded with something sweet.
As we watched, the sunbird moved from flower to flower, and the base of his beak became increasingly yellow. Pollinia. Those tiny “goodie bags” of DNA packaged by the flower. When the bird visits the next Satyre, the pollinia rubs off onto the stigma (just to take you back to high school biology class, this is the male part of a plant). Pollination achieved! A win-win situation for each specialised creature. Sweet sweet nectar for the sunbird and transport for the flower’s genetic future. Successful pollination means the Satyre can set seed, which is then wind-dispersed (orchid seeds are very tiny and can carry long distances in the strong winds).
A Fragile Treasure in Coastal Fynbos
Although they are not yet endangered, increasing coastal development and invasive plants and insects threaten their habitat. How lucky we are to have whale season and Pink Satyre season coincide, allowing us the chance to witness these orchids still thriving in the wild. Another incredible reason to join us during these months, to be among the few people in the world to pause long enough to see the small, seasonal treasures that make our natural world so extraordinary.
Join Us for a Season Within a Season
On our Walk with Whales, we take our time — noticing the tiny miracles, the hidden orchids, the quiet shifts of season within season.
Come and explore with us. Bookings are now open for September and October 2026 and 2027.
All our love from the trails,
Wild Wellness.

