Feel like showing some companies a sign?

This year the ocean scene at a favourite spot, Fish Hoek beach, was almost hidden from view by a titanic-like Cell C inflatable advertisement. Clifton beachgoers were bedazzled by a similar Cell C vessel anchored close offshore. A sign of the times?

Lest anyone feel we are picking on Cell C, it is only fair to point out that many other intrusive commercial messages insidiously found their way onto the pristine Cape beaches in insultingly full view of the human flotsam and jetsam temporarily inhabiting the clean sandy shores.

Sales appeals screamed from umbrellas and beach towels, and banners pulled beneath helicopters, behind low-flying aeroplanes, boats and even jet-skis shouted, "buy me".

For some beachgoers the commercial messages seemed to have made them feel at home because many never even batted an eyelid. The silent majority perhaps?

Yet the vocal minority had their voice heard in the right places. Curious newshounds sniffed the beaches in search of offensive advertising, subs later emblazoned headlines over anger at beach "ambush ads" and puzzled columnists quizzically alluded to great commercial icebergs anchored offshore.

Such shameless visual pollution has evoked serious hostility from normally placid consumers accustomed to a daily and nightly barrage of commercial messages in their car and at home. Their ire is being raised by an eyeful of advertisements, intruding into what used to be the most untouchable of places - marine reserves, rural landscapes and quiet leafy suburbs.

One morning while teaching my 13-year-old son, Michael, to surf at Muizenberg beach, a small aeroplane flew along the shore with a diminutive sign trailing behind, advertising a familiar cell phone company.

Now, Muizenberg folk are hardy denizens at even the worst of times so hardly anyone blinked or even craned their heads skyward. After the incessant whining of the aircraft's engine had been muffled by the raging south easter and I was able to hear a faint interior monologue, an unintelligible mumble really from somewhere inside my cranium: "With hardly more than 10 people tough enough to withstand this windswept beach, what must be the cost per thousand for the perhaps one person who involuntarily looked skywards? What sheer media wastage? When the research figures are pulled, what will they reveal of this brilliant little promotional exercise?"

Advertising's most justifiable excuse is perhaps that it is informative, helping consumers make smart choices in a marketplace crowded with me-too products and look-alikes, essentially what economists call homogeneous products. But when advertising becomes a nuisance, like an uninvited guest at a wedding, or worse a gatecrasher, then it's a public relations problem. Was the inflated beach advertising deliberately meant to peeve off to gain front-page pr attention or was it a genuine muck up by a naïve or enthusiastic amateur? It depends on who wants to take the credit. After all, when advertising is unnoticed, it can hardly be said to be successful.

Without sounding too pious, should ethical considerations be taken into account? The intrusion of commercial messages into scenic settings robs people of the natural harmony that they pay handsomely for to quieten and calm their lives and spirit.

There is an expectation about the place and time for commercial messages. Recognised marketplaces are where consumers anticipate advertising noise - at shopping centres, central business districts, print, radio and television. At least in these usual haunts, consumers can simply walk or drive past, flip the page, switch to another station or go fetch a beer from the fridge during a barrage of TV ads.

To follow you onto the beach makes the mind reel. Will it next lead to advertising in neon lights on Table Mountain, outdoor hoardings in the Kruger National Park, or serial posters strung around the trees in the Tsitsikamma forests? If advertisers can follow you into the toilet at your favourite pub, could they soon pursue you into your bathroom? Watch out, they're already in your bedroom as you watch TV. In family kitchens the fridge is already so heavy with magnetic commercial slogans that the next step could be shorter than you think.

How do professional communicators counter the brazen beach advertising warships? Well, communicators avoided this long time ago and have been little noticed because of their more subtle methods. Sponsorship of beach parties, sand castle competitions, and give-aways such as beach balls and T-shirts have hardly raised an eyebrow. It's a value add or a "social pay-off" as one local newspaper recently reported a remark from a blue-faced Clifton resident. Communicators who can create win-win solutions in the trade-off between commercial messages and providing fun and value will come out on top of the sand dunes.

In an era of permission-based marketing, it's no longer acceptable to merely assume people want to be marked to. Anti-spam laws are thankfully culling sleazy e-mail marketers. Outdoor advertisers cannot see themselves as royal game, free to roam unbridled across the countryside and coastline.

Beach goers are out for relaxation and fun and will overcome all sorts of hazards from being stung by blue bottles, protecting themselves from vicious radiation because of ozone depletion, avoiding drunken revellers and vulgar nudity to fleeing the sea upon the loud hail of shark alerts. But spare them from gaudy inflatable advertisements, demonised by one resident as a "huge thing, like a big rotten tooth bobbing on the sea". Perhaps then advertisers will find consumers more receptive to their messages, and the products they are trying to peddle could patter a little faster.