When I first read Jack Walsh’s 2022 article, “The Enigma Projected by Marine Protected Areas,” I understood the frustration he voiced. Walsh questions whether Marine Protected Areas (MPAs) — those designated ocean zones where certain activities are restricted — truly deliver what they promise.
It’s a fair question, and one worth engaging with honestly. After all, conservation shouldn’t be immune to scrutiny. But having spent time around the coastline of False Bay and the Helderberg region, I believe MPAs — and particularly the Helderberg Marine Protected Area (HMPA) — are not just symbolic. They’re strategic, necessary, and in many ways quietly heroic.
This isn’t a rebuttal of Walsh’s views so much as an invitation to look a little deeper — beneath the tide line, into the sandy flats, the kelp forests, and the quiet work of ecological patience that happens when we decide to give a small piece of ocean some breathing room.
The Helderberg: A Small but Mighty Sanctuary
The Helderberg Marine Protected Area sits on the northeastern shore of False Bay, stretching roughly 4 km of sandy coastline and covering around 24 km² of ocean. Managed by the City of Cape Town’s Environmental Management Department, it’s officially a no-take zone — meaning fishing and extraction are prohibited.
On paper, that might sound minor. But the truth is, small MPAs can have outsized ecological value, especially when they protect habitats underrepresented elsewhere.
The Helderberg coastline includes sandy beaches, mobile dunes, sandstone reefs, kelp beds, and soft sediments — a diversity of habitats packed into a compact area. Scientists call the beach here “the least disturbed part of the north shore of False Bay.”
In an increasingly urbanised stretch of coast — framed by Strand, Gordon’s Bay, and the Helderberg Basin — that matters.
“It’s not just about preserving fish stocks. It’s about protecting processes.”
Why Marine Protected Areas Exist at All
Marine Protected Areas are sometimes portrayed as idealistic or impractical. Critics like Walsh ask, “What are we actually protecting?” The answer, increasingly backed by research, is: resilience.
MPAs provide refuges where marine life can grow, reproduce, and recover free from constant human pressure. They create baseline zones — natural laboratories where scientists can measure how ecosystems function without interference.
Globally, studies show that no-take MPAs often lead to higher fish biomass, greater species diversity, and healthier habitats compared to unprotected areas. Even when direct “spill-over” benefits aren’t dramatic, the indirect gains — improved resilience to climate change, preserved nursery grounds, carbon storage in seagrass and kelp — are undeniable.
In South Africa, MPAs form a network designed to protect at least 10% of our ocean territory. Together, they safeguard ecosystems that support fisheries, tourism, and cultural heritage — the full mosaic of ocean value, not just the economic one.
Helderberg’s Role in the Bigger Picture
The Helderberg MPA may not boast coral reefs or charismatic megafauna, but its importance lies in representation. Each MPA in South Africa contributes a piece to a national puzzle — different bioregions, habitats, and species get a place in the network.
Helderberg protects a relatively intact sandy shore and nearshore reef system within a heavily developed coastline. It offers a natural buffer between urban activity and the open bay, giving scientists a control site to compare against more disturbed areas.
It also shelters relic populations of species such as the giant isopod Tylos granulatus, a sand-dwelling survivor of centuries of coastal change.
“Amid traffic, concrete, and holiday crowds, this little patch of ocean represents restraint — a conscious decision to say: ‘This part, we leave alone.’”
Dunes at Helderberg Marine Protected Area
What Walsh Gets Right
Walsh captures something that many feel but seldom articulate: a suspicion that conservation sometimes becomes performative. Lines are drawn on maps; agencies publish reports; but the public sees little change in daily life.
He also raises fair concerns about clarity and enforcement. MPAs can be confusing — where exactly are the boundaries? Who’s policing them? How do we know they’re working?
Helderberg has faced those same challenges. Like many small MPAs, it depends on limited resources for monitoring and enforcement. The estuaries feeding into it are in “relatively poor condition” due to pollution and development.
Critique, however, should not lead to dismissal. The solution isn’t to abandon MPAs — it’s to improve how we manage and communicate them.
What Walsh Overlooks
Where I part ways with Walsh is in his implication that uncertainty makes MPAs futile. Ecology doesn’t follow quick, linear timelines. Recovery takes decades. Expecting instant results is like judging a forest by its saplings.
Helderberg’s value may not appear as booming fish stocks, but it’s visible in subtler ways: natural dune systems persisting, seabirds returning, rare invertebrates surviving, and scientists gaining insight into how urban-edge ecosystems respond to protection.
Sometimes, the right question isn’t what we get, but what we allow to continue existing.
The Community Connection
One of the most heartening developments has been the growing local engagement around the Helderberg MPA. Beach clean-ups, biodiversity walks, and environmental education projects are helping residents see it as “their” MPA.
Protection works best when it’s personal. When people see an MPA not as an exclusion zone but as shared heritage — a living classroom, a sanctuary, a place of beauty — they become its stewards.
“An MPA’s boundaries might be invisible, but its impact on local identity can be profound.”
Lessons from a Modest MPA
- Small can be significant. Even micro-habitats contribute to ecological resilience.
- Networks matter. MPAs gain strength through ecological and social connection.
- Management must evolve. Adaptive, data-driven management keeps MPAs relevant.
- Conservation is a long game. Immediate results are rare; long-term dividends are vast.
Looking Ahead
If Helderberg is to fulfil its promise, protection must extend beyond its borders: cleaner river inflows, responsible coastal development, and better public understanding of its role.
It also means storytelling. The more people know what’s happening beneath the surface, the harder it becomes to dismiss these spaces as “enigmatic.”
Walsh’s skepticism is valuable if it keeps us honest. But the answer to imperfection is never indifference. It’s engagement.
in Closing
Standing on the sand near the Helderberg MPA at low tide, you can trace the faint line where the protected zone begins — though it’s mostly invisible, marked only on maps and in the minds of those who care.
Waves cross it freely. Fish cross it freely. The ocean doesn’t recognise our boundaries.
And yet, that imaginary line changes everything. It changes how we relate to the sea — from a place we take from, to a place we care for.
That, to me, is the quiet power of the Helderberg Marine Protected Area. It’s not an enigma. It’s a statement of humility — proof that sometimes, the most radical thing we can do for nature is simply to leave it be.
View across False Bay and the Helderberg MPA from Strand Beach