Point of Human Origins

17th June, 2018

Mosselbaai, South Africa 

The wind was sharp against the cliffs, white capped waves racing to meet the sharp rocks below. Above us and around us is blue sky, the edges of the cliffs rimmed with bright green grass: the edge of the Pinnacle Point golf course.

In front of us, a gate encloses the staircase which clings tenaciously to the side of the cliff. These stairs, our guide tells us, were constructed by a local farmer, who built them in sections at his farm, then transported them on a tiny baakie (truck), swaying down the road with the wind and the weight and width of the stairs. This was before the resort, before the development and placement of the houses. In order to prevent the deaths of any students attempting to access the caves below, stairs were decidedly necessary. Survey of the Pinnacle Point sites began in 1999, during a heritage assessment for the construction. The resulting finds uncovered significant deposits, launching excavations which have lasted two decades and targeted multiple caves.

Below, halfway down the cliffs, we pause to study pale stone peeking under thick brush. It is the remnants of a speleothem and concreted sand dune, the only hint that the shattered rock on the beach below formed the roof of a massive cave. The pounding waves eventually weakened the stone, causing collapse. This is a pattern repeated frequently over hundreds of thousands of years, during the ocean recessions and incursions, creating and destroying caves.

The landscape can offer tantalizing clues to understanding early humans. Paleo reconstructions can tell us what types of landscapes humans navigated, but how and when it changed, and how humans incorporated these changes into their lifestyles and cultures. Cave 13F hints at long term environmental shifts, showcasing modifications and damage to its walls, providing a history. While it’s too low to retain archaeological deposits, which would have been washed out during a high sea stand around 130,000 years ago, the geology tells other stories. Aeolianites (concreted sand dune) trace their way up both walls, meeting speleothems. Preserved chunks of coral line the stone, reaching to the ceiling. At one point, the cave was underwater, at another, it was sealed by a sand dune. Both options rendered it inaccessible to humans, and unlikely to yield the archaeology we seek. However, the knowledge it shared of the environmental changes was invaluable.

Cave 13B rested high above 13F, high enough that sediments survived destructive waves. In addition to traces of sand dunes, it holds human occupation layers, dating from 160,000 to 90,000. Archaeologists uncovered amazing finds: early consumption of seafood and symbolic gestures. Among the shifting landscapes and the challenges, humans thrived.  

Along the rocky shoreline, other caves and remnants of caves still exist. Some of them are sterile: giant boulders covering any potential finds, others lacking any human influences. Still others have geological significance, offering a glimpse into the formation and dating of the coastline, similar to 13F. however, the real find is around the corner, through a low lying tidal zone. The sharp and steep rocks are sometimes treacherous, made slippery by the spray. We waited until low tide to creep through the lower ledges, reducing the risk of injury. Around the corner, the bay curves under massive houses, blue sky meeting blue sea, white capped waves racing towards us to collide with the rocky shoreline. At the base of the cliffs, we pause, grabbing lunch before wandering, rock to rock, through tidal pools and above the surging foam. Mussels, starfish, sea slugs and oysters await us under the dancing surface.

 

The next stop is rockshelter, a fault in the cliff. Once, we are told, it was a cave. The sediments preserved oddly, the water escaping from the cliffs above tearing through the inner deposits, while the waves beat at the edges. In the end, only a block of sediment preserved. Excavations spanned a sterile dune formation at 90 thousand, and again at 70 thousand, up through 50 thousand years ago, uncovering a fascinating history.

The significance of the site is not only tied up in sheltered caves, which would have offered early humans a residential area, a home base. Our next stop is a dune formation at nearby Vleesbaai. Our drive takes us through private land, across open fields, down the side of rolling hills and through dense brush. The top of the dune is covered with artifacts, disturbed from their rest, and the fossilized remains of roots poking from red, hard sand. The red layer is oxygenation from the organic matter, altering the soil after hundreds of years. But our prize is halfway down the dune, a series of hefty stairs cut into the sand. Excavations not yet covered by the constant migration of the dunes. The shelf is more stable than it looks, the sand solid. The shelf has revealed discarded stone tools, used during trips from the cave, broken, created and cast aside. Significantly, it holds crypotephra, or the tiny glass shards vomited forth by a volcano. The ones uncovered here date to the Toba supervolcano, a 74,000 year old eruption in Indonesia. This is the ultimate dating technique, offering high resolution glimpse of activity during this time. Pinnacle Point also harbors these shards—giving researchers the ability to link the sites and activities.

The dunes are harder to climb than descend, the sands pulling us down. Sometimes, it is good to take a moment, to pull our heads from the dirt, to study those who came before us. To remember the bigger picture. Humans are extremely curious—and, we wonder, were the ancient ones the same? Perhaps one day we will know.