Meet the volunteer: Mdu’s path to Sea Rescue

Along the wild, rugged coastline of the Eastern Cape, where cliffs drop into restless surf, and rivers slice through valleys, you’ll often find a familiar figure walking - or swimming - his way towards training. His name is Mdu Sizwe Galimoni, and his journey to becoming an NSRI volunteer is one of quiet determination, deep humility, and unshakeable purpose.

Mdu was born in the village of Jonga in Coffee Bay. “I grew up here, went to school here, and this is where I first started lifesaving work,” he explains. In 2001, as a young man, he joined the local lifesaving group then known as the Wild Coast Guards. Even then, the seed of service had taken root. He didn’t yet know where it would lead him, but he knew he wanted to help people.

That same year, during lifeguard training in Port St Johns, he first heard about the NSRI. “The first time I heard about the NSRI, I was very interested,” he says. But the distance made joining impossible at the time. The idea, however, stayed with him for more than a decade.

In 2018, everything changed. A visiting crew from Cape Town came to Coffee Bay to speak about Sea Rescue and the opportunities it offered. For Mdu, it was the moment it all clicked. “I joined the NSRI because I saw a lot of potential,” he says. “Saving lives, especially for people who can’t save themselves, is very important to me.”

Training, however, requires effort, and for Mdu, enormous commitment. Coffee Bay’s beauty comes with geographic challenges, and attending training sessions often means traversing rivers and long stretches of coastline on foot.

He describes the routine with matter-of-fact honesty: “Normally, I walk along the coast, maybe for one and a half hours. I have to cross three rivers, including a deep one that is plus or minus 600 metres across.”

The local ferry charges R30 per crossing, an expense that quickly adds up. So Mdu relies on the skill he’s built over the years. “Every time I come this side, I swim across to save that money. When we come this side, we take a swim because we are lifeguards.”

There is no complaint in his voice, just simple practicality and pride in his abilities. And despite the difficult journey, he is clear that training matters deeply. “Training means a lot to me,” he says. “Now, I have that confidence that I can go and save lives.”

He doesn’t pretend it was easy at the start. “The first day of training was not easy – even the second day was tough,” he admits. But the desire to serve kept him going. “What kept me going was knowing how much I wanted to be part of the NSRI.”

Throughout his journey, he remains deeply grateful for the volunteers who trained him. “I just want to put my hands together for our instructors because without them, we wouldn’t be here,” he says. “They tried to show us everything they’re supposed to show us.”

Sea Rescue’s support also made an enormous difference. “I didn’t know I could end up going to Cape Town through Sea Rescue without paying a cent,” he says with amazement. “Sea Rescue provided transportation, accommodation and catering.”

These experiences didn’t just expand his technical skills, they expanded his confidence and belief in what is possible. “Now, I am very confident in myself and in my ability to go rescue someone out there.”

But Mdu sees his role as extending beyond personal growth. He is committed to taking lifesaving knowledge back home. “Going back to Coffee Bay to teach other people there who the NSRI are…the bit of knowledge I got so far, I will pass it on,” he says. Empowering his community is part of his purpose.

For him, the heart of the NSRI is simple and deeply meaningful. “At the NSRI, we are one crew – one family,” he says. “We respect each other, and we look after one another so that every rescue is safe.” Unity, safety, encouragement and respect - these, he believes, are the foundations of effective rescue work.

And despite the challenges, he hopes his story inspires others to join. “You give your time freely to help your community,” he says.

Mdu dreams of qualifying as a skipper from Class 4 all the way to Class 1, and one day working overseas, perhaps aboard a cruise ship. But for now, his focus remains at home, along the shoreline he knows so well, among the people he hopes to protect.

In every river he swims across, in every long coastal walk, and in every training session he attends, his commitment is unmistakable. It is written not in grand gestures, but in steady footsteps and in the lives he is determined to help save.