Here in Simonstown, South Africa, is where I would lose my heart to the magnificent beauty of the kelp forests that line the Cape Peninsula in the South Atlantic to one side, and in the Indian Ocean to the other.

Beyond that, I would find myself revelling in the shared connection that at least part of the coastal communities here experience. For the people in the area, the kelp forests and adjacent reefs are in many ways a lifeline that transcends beyond a mere physical resource.

I speak of the type of sustenance that lets hearts and souls expand, breathe at ease, and let you return to yourself.

The reason for my happy squeals is a little catfish shark embryo turning around in its golden, translucent egg case that is nestled carefully amongst a patch of seaweed and coral.

I can see everything, and the promise of life is rather beautiful.

The red veins on the yolk sac that is still taking up much of the space. The almost imperceptible lines of where the mouth will soon be. The little black buttons that are the beginning of its eyes.

Everything about it looks fragile, and viscerally vulnerable. I can’t help but be remembered of the unique power that lies within the smallest of encounters.

The sometimes minute and oh so unassuming inhabitants of rockpools can be messengers of bigger conservation needs and hopes, and hence contribute to a growing sense of ocean stewardship.

With the first experiment of a shark net-type structure deployed in the 1920s, and the first official shark nets installed in the 1930s, it is a long-standing practice of almost a hundred years.

Mostly to protect coastal tourism, these mechanism stem from a time during which we knew very little about the marine environment and our huge impact on it.

During my interview with Dr Sara Andreotti from the SharkSafe Barrier™ ,she looks at me with her kind eyes and emphasizes that “it’s about time we make a change”.

Dr Andreotti is part of a team of dedicated shark experts and conservationists that have tirelessly worked on an eco-friendlier technology that would not only protect people, but marine wildlife alike.

Since its foundation in 2009, Misson Blue has launched 159 Hope Spots around the world, six of which are found along the South African coastline, one of which is False Bay. I have been blessed to be able to explore this stunningly beautiful corner of the world for the past few weeks, and every day I fall in love just that little bit more.

And so, I decided to join the False Bay Hope Spot Paddle-Out to get to know the community that has welcomed me here a little better, and to understand what gives them hope. 

I remember the first time I took part in a weekend session with a large number of volunteers and recall the moment clearly that I found myself watching these people around me coming from all walks of life; welcoming athletes, making them laugh, cheering them on, making them feel safe, building trust.
Goodness is what came to mind. Sincere and utter goodness.

The Jersey-based charity Healing Waves enables individuals despite their condition and/or disability both neurological and physical to access the ocean in a safe way to participate in water sport activities.

The charity’s volunteer network spreads across the island, and I am sure is born from a love for the ocean and what it provides us with. Most of us volunteers seek out the water on a regular, if not daily basis.

Conservation, “it is what I want to do with my life”, Kazz recalls when telling me about the people who inspired him, and showed him how his calling could turn into reality. Influences he feels lucky and grateful to have had - as even to someone with that passion and certain knowledge, it often seemed an unattainable line of work.

Conservation, “it is what I want to do with my life”, Kazz recalls when telling me about the people who inspired him, and showed him how his calling could turn into reality. Influences he feels lucky and grateful to have had - as even to someone with that passion and certain knowledge, it often seemed an unattainable line of work.

Hearing Jens talk about hope really struck a chord with me.

It resonates deeply, and creates a noticeable lump in my throat. At the same time, a big smile forms across my face. He must be onto something here!

He visualises hope as a sort of big, fluffy, bouncing ball confined by walls in a room with with obstacles.

“Sometimes it finds a clear path and appears stable; other times it seems completely out of our control and able to break down the entire room”.

“That sea turtle”, Courtney begins “is essentially one of the prehistoric creatures on our planet that has evolved over centuries, coexisting with dinosaurs. And it’s been only for the last century or so that they are truly threatened.

A threat that is predominantly man-made, and these days accumulative. It is when she look at a sea turtle, and cannot help herself think “ you have quite literally withstood the test of time, and we could potentially witness you going extinct in my lifetime”.

When I ask Jerry how he keeps going, he happens to touch on a core of my thoughts around hope.
“50% faith”, he says, and “50% of loving what I do and what I learn on a daily basis about my job, myself, and others”.

Jerry manages something I never really considered myself in the past. His foundation has more than one pillar. And the perceived absence of change does not crush him, or throw him into a world of doubt. And yet - crucially so - he is not emotionally detached.

Meet my former teacher David Goldsborough.

I just knew it was going to be good to talk to him about this question of hope of mine.

Always having valued his opinion, I was a little nervous. David is someone I trust and who I feel slightly self-conscious around as I feel that the can see the turbulences of my mind more clearly than I could even begin to articulate, when lost in them. Knowing alone that the felt an importance to understand the concept of hope gave me it in return.

It is one of those precious winter days here in Jersey - with clear blue skies and the warmth of the sun cutting through the crisp air.

Yesterday, we had gale force winds and dark fronts rolling in. Today the promise of spring is audible all around.

Listening back to my recording of our interview, it’s a fitting scene. Jon and I find ourselves talking about how hope can find us as quickly as a change in the weather.

And just as the sun did that day, hope can keep us warm for days to come.