Full Circle

Aladdin's Cave, The Coves ...

I didn't think twice about sticking my head into the small hole in the rock face above the sea surging into the channel carved into Cape Point. Whether my disdain for caution resulted from impetuosity or spontaneity does not interest me. What I found on that day in 2007 did. The lower lip of the rock stretched into the rock face, beneath the roof of the channel, to form a small balcony above a multihued chamber of startling beauty. I crawled into the hole with my camera and tripod and, in a remarkably tight space buffeted by blasts of compressed, humid air, drenching spray and a deafening, often thunderous and thoroughly unpredictable roar, set up a couple of shots of a place I was convinced had not yet been viewed or appreciated.

Several months later, a colleague spotted my picture of 'Aladdin's Cave' on our shared organisational network and brought in several copies of Full Circle, a high-circulation, glossy, community magazine distributed free to people living in the southern Cape Peninsula. A virtually identical photograph of 'my' cave appeared on the cover of the April 2007 issue [Flash req'd].

I was enraged and, paging to the accompanying story, determined to find out who the bastards were who had dared trample my corner of Heaven.

The article, written by editor Sean Houghton and accompanied by walking companion Bruce Stevens's stunning photographs, immediately ameliorated my instant of umbrage. It was apparent that Full Circle had visited that particularly treacherous stretch of coast for much the same reason I spend so much of my time there. It forms an under-appreciated part of the immense beauty surrounding Capetonians, visible only to those who actively seek it beneath the tourist-friendly veneer of city of many splendours.

Since reading that article and those in other issues my colleagues were able to feed me – Full Circle had been in existence for four years by then, I've found myself tracking and tracing Sean and Bruce up, over, across and around the Peninsula, only occasionally beating them to areas unspoiled by hordes of tourists or loutish locals impervious to the notion our natural heritage might need care if we're to preserve it.

A hallmark of Full Circle's articles is an emphasis on a respect for both our environment and the safety of those who might choose to follow in Houghton and Stevens's footsteps. Another is the way they resonate with an insatiable curiosity and an active seeking out of fresh spots of unspoilt grandeur. A natural consequence of the Full Circle duo's ventures – it seems nature's secrets are best kept in virtually inaccessible spots – was the gradual introduction of the word 'hiking' to their articles. As fit and healthy as they might have become over the years, I do not regard Sean and Bruce as 'hikers'. Instead, I will continue to accord them the respect due walkers – who constitute a more dignified, noble coterie of natural scholars.

Hikers of my acquaintance tend to be finely muscled athletes wielding pogo sticks. They bound through the bush in bubble shoes with nary a glance at their surrounds, jabbering away on cellphones or listening to music on devices that hold their heads together with earphones. Hikers are always eager to reach their destination at a time tailored to their next appointment.

With our paths crossing so frequently, it was inevitable that Full Circle and I should meet. The short piece featured here is the result [Flash req'd].

Now, most would argue that a contribution to a community magazine is not exactly the stuff of which the most scintillating CVs are made. I'd answer – first – that such an opinion might be valid for now; but it won't be for much longer. Also, I don't give a damn. There is more at stake here. I'd put it that an invitation to contribute to a section of a magazine that has, since it first saw the light of day and with few exceptions, been the preserve of its editor and his photographer is no small honour.

And that is worth a hell of a lot more to me than a couple of bucks a word and licensing fees.

Secondly, Full Circle is one of a select group of publications shaping a sustainable publishing model for the South African print media. Located in a community from which it draws the advertising revenue financing it, it feeds high-quality, durable content back into that community at no cost. Respected, its advertising – already focused – is effective. And as its revenue base grows, so does its ability to generate content.

Thirdly, it represents a move to open-access publishing. Like Google, a search engine complemented by value-added apps and services obscuring its core service, it derives its revenue from advertising while offering complemetary and and supplementary services. Originally distributed only across the southern Peninsula, it recently surmounted an obstacle not faced by Web-based firms – the print, advertising sales and distribution costs incurred launching an equally relevant, community-based northern edition.

Whereas Google merely changes its algorithms to suit its markets, Full Circle changes its content and packaging. Practically, it's a lot more work. However, it's likely to prove an immensely worthwhile strategy. By entrenching itself in the communities supporting it, it constitutes the most effective platform for SME-based print advertising.

Finally, the Internet plays an enormous role in its growth strategy. By publishing free to the Web and optimizing its site as time goes by, it's now set to leap several degrees of separation by taking advantage of social networking applications like Facebook and Twitter. In giving away content, it's simultaneously giving its advertisers far greater and wider exposure than they would have enjoyed had they limited their adspend to print or paywalls.


I could continue. Just as my little cameras have led me a circuitous dance around the Cape Peninsula, uncovering old or beating fresh paths, I find my simultaneous, loose, three-year association with Full Circle's willingness to explore the tried and untested, be it natural or online, significant. Taking photographs of unusual places can be hugely rewarding, but it is also extremely hard work. Full Circle's seven-year publishing history reminds us that the hard work precedes the reward.

I enjoy associating with such people – individuals prepared to work hard to realise an idea – especially when their ideas spring to mind at the most unlikely times in the most unusual places. For example, when sticking their heads into a hole in a rock perched above the wild and oft-dangerous Cape Peninsula coast.

The uploads of Full Circle's Banner, the April 2007 cover, and photographer Bruce Stevens sticking his head into a hole in the rock – it's not all that dignified, is it?; now imagine dragging your body in after it – remain copyright of Full Circle Magazine and are reproduced here in the spirit of Fair Use.