I glimpse the moonlit road through gaping holes in the floorboard as we career through villages nestled in the tropical vegetation, dark shadows clustered around cooking fires, thumping music temporarily drowning the clatter. There is a bone jarring crash as the taxi hits yet another pothole. Conversation is impossible, so I am still in the dark about David who has just picked me up from Nosy Be airport and with whom I am about to be confined in a very small space for the next week or so. We are flung from side to side, swerving as equally battered vehicles suddenly appear without headlights from around blind corners. I hold on in mute terror. How ironic if I should I die here and not on the open sea.
We eventually arrive at the beach off Sakatia Be where a speed boat awaits to take us to the yacht, gleaming in the moonlight. I am eager to talk but it has been a full day’s travel and after a delicious, pre-prepared bolognaise, I fall into an exhausted sleep.
I have always been fascinated by the sea. Where this came from, I have no idea . My childhood home was 600 km from the nearest coast and the nearby dams, were small enough to see to the other side. None of the activities we were involved in as kids involved water. Perhaps, the model yachts that my dad built in exquisite detail, the largest 1m in length and the books on sailing and boats that lay strewn around planted a seed. He had the plans for a “Flying Dutchman” which unfortunately much to my chagrin, he never got round to building.
The Flying Dutchman is a classic 20 foot( 6.1m) high performance two-person racing dinghy designed in 1951. It served as an Olympic class sailing boat from 1960 to 1992.
So, sadly my involvement with the sea was from an armchair, initially through the local library – Robinson Crusoe, Treasure Island, swashbuckling Caribbean pirates and voyages of discovery. Later my own shelves groaned under the weight of books on sea adventures both fiction and non-fiction; even more books on voyages gone wrong with names like “114 days at sea”, Adrift”; and others calling for a different life “Sell up and Sail”. I had a deep yearning for adventure and pitting my skills and fortitude against nature.
… and all the time, John Masefield’s Sea Fever swirls around my head …
Sea Fever – John Masefield
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.
Years later Nikki and I raced Hobie Cats in the treacherous seas off South Africa and bareboat chartered in exotic locations around the world which satisfied much of my craving. But an almost atavistic desire to experience something more adventurous remained.
At the back of my mind I had the idea that buying a yacht and sailing around the world might be worthwhile adventure, however doing so alone would not be. Nikki is quite clear that living in a floating caravan for an extended period is not her idea of fun and maybe she has a point.
Nikki had sailed from Durban to Inhaca and back, much of it in 50 knot winds. This experience did not make it into her top 20 life experiences, but I envied her that opportunity.
In August 2009 I decide to get some more experience in blue water sailing and to see whether I like it. I contact the main coastal sailing schools to see if they can put the word out to anyone needing crew. My expectation is that I will be one of a number of crew. They are not very hopeful – the general requirement is for delivery crew and they want that specific experience. They can offer me paid trips though – which is an option I might consider. I leave my contact details should anything arise.
Discouraged I put it out of mind for now and am very pleasantly surprised to receive an email three weeks later from David who is circumnavigating and specifically looking for a single crew member to help him sail his yacht from Madagascar to South Africa, which sounds ideal. A quick phone call with him seals the deal.
He says it will take about 8 days and suggests I bring 3 pairs of shorts, a few tee shirts, a long sleeve shirt for nights and a warm wool sweater/fleece for nights, sunglasses and a hat. Apparently the deal is I pay to get there and he pays for everything else.
I can get a visa at the Madagascan airport on arrival but as I have no return flight, I am concerned that some officious individual could make life difficult for me. I organise a visa through the Consulate with a formal letter from David declaring that I have signed on as crew.
Nikki is excited for me and we are pretty sure we can survive without each other for 8 days, maybe 10 to be safe.
“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you come from with new eyes and extra colours. And the people see you differently too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.” A Hat full of Sky, Terry Pratchett.
Wednesday 16 September 2009
I enjoy a sumptious breakfast at News Cafe check in. At this time of day the revamped airport is a real pleasure – no crowds, no queues.
Passengers mill around Antananarivo Airport, many seeking a blue arrival form which is mysteriously not stacked at the many counters. Various officials beckon me to follow them. God knows where and I am not in the mood to play the cadeau game. Also, I have time – the plane arrived at 13:30am on schedule and the flight to Nosy Be is only at 16:20. I ask someone where she got hers, turns out she is Madagascan and brusquely tells a particularly seedy looking official to give me one which he begrudgingly does. I am very pleased that I obtained a visa beforehand.. I walk down the corridor to domestic departure to Nosy Be only to find that the flight is delayed to 18:20. There is very little of interest, the “restaurant” is distinctly unattractive and the chairs are hard. I briefly debate taking a taxi into town to explore and have a bite to eat, but prudence wins. Time passes very slowly. I have the first symptoms of flu, making it difficult to focus and read. The plane is further delayed to 18:50. We land at at 19:50 where David is waiting patiently with a taxi.
Thursday 17 September
I have a deep and refreshing sleep, despite it blowing quite hard during the night. I still feel fluey, but it is bearable. We dinghy ashore passing between the yachts anchored in the bay, most of which have SA flags. I meet John, a South African, who manages Sakatia Heights and provides accommodation, meals, marine services and anything else you need help with.
Back on the boat we motor to Hellville, the capital of Nosy Be and also one of the main ports of Madagascar, as there is no wind. The resorts on the shore seem quite small and low key. Arriving at midday, we plan to complete all departure formalities and stock up on the last few fresh provisions before our departure tomorrow. We discover that only the skipper needs to be present for the checkout procedure, so I ferry David ashore and look after the boat and dinghy.
It is hot and sticky and I am careful to avoid the sun and not burn on the first day. I have some left over bolognese for lunch and spend time looking at the charts. Nosy Be is a tiny dot on the North Western coast of Madagascar. If it takes 3 hrs from Sakatia to Hellsville, how long will it take to sail down the length of Madagascar?
I make a trip ashore to collect diesel and then again to collect David who finally managed to clear out after everyone’s siesta. The laborious process is Police, then Customs, then Port Captain, then back to Police again. It is too late get provisions today. It’s early days but nothing happens quickly on this trip. Hellville is purported to be a noisy anchorage and there are reports of crime on the boats, but we decide not move to the quieter bay which has a water supply as we will have to come back tomorrow. We have the last of the bolognese supplemented with carrots and cabbage.
We’re in bed by 7pm, exhausted. In the middle of the night I wake, sensing that somebody has come aboard. I ease my way up through the companionway to see somebody peering through the fore hatch. I creep back down to warn David and see a leg come down through the hatch. My heart in my mouth, I grab it and try to wrench it off. The body comes tumbling down onto the bunk. I am trying to work out what to do next when I realise that the leg and body belong to David. Perhaps not the best way to endear oneself to one’s skipper.
Friday 18 September
Hooting, shrieking, all manner of goods thrust under our noses, friendly entreaties to be of service, a cacophony of sound follows us as we crisscross the town piling our purchases into our waiting taxi. The old colonial buildings still exude charm despite their drab, peeling paint – the French influence clearly evident. The Boulangerie for an armful of baguettes which, when broken in half and drizzled with raw honey from a 2 litre coke bottle, will become our staple breakfast. The Charcuterie for saucisson and prepacked frozen portions of pork. The Boucherie for chicken and other meat. The fresh food market for unripened paw paws and bananas that will swing in a net in the saloon. Also bags of onions and other vegetables, eggs, vanilla, shrimp and an extra large sack of rice.
We load up our dinghy, diligently guarded by a youngster we had appointed. Finally we up anchor at 11:20 and we are on our way.
We motor for a few hours to get around the headland on the mainland, pick up a breeze and sail at 6 knots. Now we are on our way!
David conjures up a delicious omelette of onion, garlic and potato served with rice. We thread our way through the sand banks at the river mouth of Rananamy. It is well protected with little settlements of 3-6 huts on all sides.
I make a supper of rice and seared Bonito (60cm) which we catch on the way. Meals are filling and good, which is just as well as I am always hungry. The sky is very clear with little ambient light – the stars are magnificent. We fall asleep to rythmic African music.
Saturday 19 September
The dinghy, filled with empty 25l water containers turns in circles as I fight the ebbing tide. David’s roars of laughter from Jipcho are not helping as I paddle ashore, the sun barely above the horizon. Perhaps we shouldn’t have packed the outboard motor away quite yet.
Water is exchanged for a cadeau of a gas bottle, fish hooks and packet of peppercorns which we had been given as a cadeau at the market.
The trip back is quick luckily as we have to cover 55 nm to our next anchorage.
We set off at 8:40, initially motoring. The trailing line hooks a Wahoo. I am exhausted by the time I land it. David does the dirty and cuts it up into 12 good sized portions (6 meals!)
Wahoo
Mild and slightly sweet, with very little of the strong or oily taste found in other pelagic fish. Its Hawaiian name, ono, literally translates to “delicious”. Firm, dense, and meaty with snow-white flesh that flakes nicely when cooked. It is often compared to a light tuna, swordfish, or mahi-mahi
Sails up we manage 7.5 knots.The boat handles very well and is easy to sail. I have fun playing with the sails and manage to increase speed to 8.2 knots occasionally and the distance is eaten up. We arrive at Nosy Lava, an old prison island, at 17:10. David makes Pork Adobo. I am in heaven – it’s one of the nicest meals I have ever had. An amazing shooting star (or space debris?) – a massive ball of orange flame tops off the evening.
The anchorage is a bit rough – churned up by the winds of the day – and the boat rocks all night.
Sunday 20 September
Myriads of fish teem around as we snorkel through the tiny reef, taking a break after spending the morning scrubbing algae off the hull. (no free lunch on this trip). It’s hot today.We set up jack stays and adjust my harness.
Breakfast is 1/2 a baguette with jam and 1/2 with honey. All washed down with delicious Madagascar percolated coffee. The baguettes are kept in the freezer and come out wonderfully fresh. The freezer is such a luxury.
We leave at 11:45 on motor. I make periperi prawns with special rice which goes down well. I land another Wahoo and I am even more exhausted this time. Clearly this flu has not yet cleared up. We hoist the sails at 13:00 but there is not much wind and we only manage 5 knots. We catch another bonito, but let it go.
Pork Adobo
(Unofficial national dish of the Philippines)
Cubed pork. Brown with lots of garlic. Add equal amounts of light soy and white vinegar (for 2 big chops: 25ml + 25ml). Add lots of black pepper. Serve with rice.
We are heading towards Morambe? We realise we will only get there about 20:00 and negotiating the passage in the dark will be dangerous. So we stop along the coast and anchor. This open sea anchoring is a complete first for me. I have never anchored other than in a safe secluded bay. Storm clouds are gathering and the sea is choppy. David makes a delicious bolognese with pork sausage meat. We set depth and anchor dragging alarms. I have a fitful sleep.
Monday 21 September
I awake tired after the rock and rolling and regularly checking our anchor. Eventually at 5am we decide to leave. A constant sea breeze makes for good sailing. A mother and calf humpback slide gently past the hull, and a little further along another four.
We catch another Wahoo. The wind increases to 25 knots and we put in 2 reefs. Jipcho keeps her 8 knot pace. A big fish (unidentified) strikes and David and I take turns trying to bring him in. He is within meters of the boat before he breaks free. The wind drops at 13:00 and at 14:00 it picks up and drives us until 5am the next morning. This is our first night passage as we want to bypass Mahajanga and its reputation amongst sailors for armed boardings. Night sailing is very exhilarating. We don’t use a watch system – whoever feels awake stays up. We thread our way through sand banks, tacking, reefing and shaking out reefs.
Tuesday 22 September
The wind dies completely and we motor the last 25nm to Baly Bay. We spend the entire morning preparing the boat for the crossing – remove the privacy screens, install the inner forestay for the storm jib and David climbs the mast to check stays.
David and I will use whoever saloon settee is leeward as only one of us will be sleeping at a time. The aft berth is full of equipment and the fore berth will have the deflated dinghy. At 15:00 we decide to fill all available water canisters and stock up on fresh fruit and veg. We sail to the village 5 nm further into the bay. A very shallow sand bank lines the shore so we anchor further out and take the dinghy ashore. Curious villagers stream out excitedly. David goes off while I look after the dinghy and prized outboard motor. The locals speak mostly Malagasy with a smattering of French which we use to chat away. David returns exhausted after walking right through the village. He has rice, condensed milk, sweet potatoes, mangoes, cucumber, spring onion, kale and water. The wind has come up, the dinghy ride back to the boat is hairy and we arrive quite soaked. We move the boat to a deeper and more protected anchorage – we need a good nights sleep for the crossing.
David makes Osso Buco. I think this calf became an ox while no one was looking. So I brown it, add onions and a tin of tomatoes and leave it to simmer slowly while I make a brilliant egg fried rice for supper. The Osso Buco is frozen for a time when we don’t feel like cooking.
I’ve been on the boat for 6 days and it is quite clear that this is not an 8 day journey and a simple check using a chart before I left would have shown that quite easily.
Straight line distance 1200nm
@4 knots ->300 hours->19 days
@5 knots->250 hours->16 days
That does not include time for shopping, preparing and waiting for weather windows.
My sailing experience is twofold. Racing between the buoys where the focus is staying upright and getting around the course as fast as possible. Secondly, chartering in exotic locations where the weather tends to be fair and the occasional storms are short and sharp, and safe anchorages are not too far away. Both are about maximising sailing in the time available.
My education begins:
– I learn about round-the-world sailors who can’t afford to damage their homes. Blue water sailing – the necessary evil between destinations – is planned meticulously. The best time of year is known for each passage. Then the weather forecast is studied to ensure a sufficient window is predicted before anyone leaves safe harbour.
– I learn about radio networks keeping sailors up to date on weather conditions.
– I learn that when current and wind oppose, waves are steep and unpleasant and can be boat-breaking.
– I learn that the Agulhas Current in the Mocambique Channel is South-setting and we will need North winds for safe sailing.
– I learn that this is the second most dangerous channel in the world!
– I learn that generally sailors go through the Suez Canal, but due to the very real threat of Somali pirates they now go south – this not their first choice!
– I learn that even with the best planning Captain Ron is right: “If it’s going to happen, it’s going to happen out there!”
It is nearly impossible to travel between northern Madagascar and northeast South Africa during one weather window, which has a rhumb line distance of about 1,300 nm. The Mozambique Channel must be utilized during this passage and this body of water is like a south bound runaway freight train on steroids. You must travel south via the channel with its strong south bound current when the winds are from the north, or pay a huge uncomfortable and potentially dangerous penalty for going to windward. For months at a time the northern wind windows typically last around three days. Given the above, sheltered Mozambique anchorages are often used during strong winds from the south, which can last five days or more. (Cruiserswiki.org)
Wednesday 23 September
Moving anchorage was a great idea – I wake up fully refreshed. We pack the deflated dinghy into the fore cabin and set off out of the bay and down the coast towards Cape St Andre. As we pass a humpback whale, it stands on its head for about 10mins. The wind picks up to 15 knots and continues building to 35 knots. Seas are wild with 2m swells. I make Thai Red curry with Wahoo, sufficient for two meals. Big success.
I’m not sure if it’s the time below cooking, the richness of the food, choppy seas or a combination of all, but feel a little queasy. I lie down for a while to no avail.
All 3 reefs are in and we still slice along at 7 knots. However, the wind is on the nose and the angle between tacks is 130°. I cannot work out why. It feels like a North setting current, but the current is South setting in the channel? Our excellent progress becomes an endless series of tacks. I stand watch between 23:30 and 5:00 frustratingly trying to balance speed with angle of attack. Not feeling very strong. I didn’t have any supper as I didn’t want to take a chance.
I always feel damp. I lie on the lazarette quite protected, but I am up regularly to check direction, speed, the chart (we are still in a sandbank area). No sooner do I lie down in my wet pants and wet feet than I am up to adjust the jib.
Thursday 24 September
I just fallen asleep after my watch when I am woken to help let out the reef as the wind is dying. I lie down again but cannot sleep, still feeling bad. Eventually I give up. I manage to enjoy a baguette with butter and jam. The wind dies completely and we motor. I lie down and enjoy a deep sleep, waking refreshed and healthy. David makes Aglio e olio with kale – just what the doctor ordered. I manage to go down and do the dishes without any effect.
The wind picks up at 13:00. There is definitely a north setting current so we change course from diagonally across the channel to straight across to Mozambique to get to the South setting Agulhus. PeriPeri Net says there is a cold front expected on 29th, so we want to make sure we can be safely anchored by then.
I scour the cruising guides for weather and currents in the Mocambique channel. It is confusing as to whether it is south or north setting. It is abundantly clear that it is known as one of the toughest areas to sail. A great place to place to have an adventure.
We are heading 330° yet even though the autopilot is set for 290°, so we are being pushed north. Tacking would mean we would head 290°-130°=160° basically head back to Madagascar. We can’t bear the thought so we push on. It is beautiful sailing though – smooth seas, 8-10 knots wind, 5-6 knots boat speed even though not in the ideal direction.
Late afternoon, we catch a beautiful smallish yellowish tuna. We have an appetiser of sashimi with wasabi and soy, followed by a main of pan fried tuna with rice. How the intrepid seafarers fare!
I go to bed and David only wakes me at 2:45. we have the South current! Now the autopilot is set at 235° and our bearing is 225°! Wind is still on our nose but we are getting speed over ground of 7 knots.
I read later: The classical definition of the Mozambique Current is that it is a strong, steady, warm southbound current that leads into the Agulhas Current off the East Coast of South Africa. Modern research has challenged that assumption, and indicates that rather than a strong southern boundary current, there are often a series of large anti-cyclonic eddies in the channel.
I have a lovely calm watch studying the stars and listening to my iPod. I thought I would listen to French lessons while on watch, but Michel Thomas puts me sleep which is no good.
Watch keeping at night is its own delight
Every evening we put in a reef or two while it is still light. This keeps us from stumbling around in the dark when the wind picks up at night as well as allowing the maximum amount of sleep for the one off watch.
It is hard to describe being on watch. It’s just you, the stars, the wind, the swoosh of the boat cleaving through the waves.
It’s boring, it’s enthralling, it’s sobering, it’s inspiring, it’s exhilarating.
“Smell the sea and feel the sky, let your soul and spirit fly” – Van Morrison
The most comfortable place is with my back against the main bulkhead in the cockpit which means I cannot see where we are going. Every 3 songs on my iPod, I stand up, do a 360 degree scan of the horizon, I check the course, check the set of sails, make any adjustments, do another 360 scan, if I see a ship’s light I make sure we are not on a collision course. I then settle back, wrap my blanket around me, plug in the earpods and get comfortable. The leeward bench is easier to wedge yourself in, but often drenched with spume. After several days of this, I devise an elaborate set of quick release straps to hold me in the windward bench.
Friday 25 September
So what do you do all day?
“Try it again”
David’s voice drifts disembodied from the depths of the hull. I start the engine and let it run. There is no sound from the stuffing box (the connection between the propellor shaft and the engine). The saloon is a mess, piled with gear from the aft cabin which we cleared to get to the source of the terrible grinding noise that appeared from below early this morning while we motored to charge the batteries. We are exhausted, especially David who has done most of the clambering into the near-inaccessible, claustrophobic hull. It has been 4 hours and I have spent most the time reading through marine manuals, shouting down questions and options to try – the last being to remove the water inlet pipe to the stuffing box while the engine is running 😳. The culprit, a thick strand of hardened grease is eventually pushed out followed by clear running, cooling water! It appears that the grease that David has been squirting copiously and religiously over the years through the nipple has been forced up the water inlet pipe.
Life is never boring on a yacht. There is always something to do: repairs, fishing, preparing meals, endlessly studying synoptic charts, currents and wind and debating where and when to go, as well reading and writing.
There is no wind, but the current pushes us along at 1.8 knots.. Active steering keeps our speed at 2.5 knots. Anything over 3 knots is cause for celebration. At least we are going in the right direction. We also hope we are on the periphery of the current and it gets stronger.
Seeing as we are drifting, David decides to check the valve that equalises the two diesel tanks which is fine. Next he checks the tank outlet valve to the engine and finds it full of dirt. He cleans it out but when reinstalling it there is a small leak. We spend the next 6 hours trying all manner of techniques to stop the drip – including plumbers tape and Pratleys putty – but the nature of diesel dissolves these. Currently we have an ice cream container under the drip which we empty back into the tank every few hours. Eventually at 22:30 we collapse exhausted not even having supper. David especially, as he had been clambering into near inaccessible, claustrophobic spaces. The saloon is a mess as we had moved everything out of the aft cabin to access the fuel tanks. I wake up at 2:30 and, tired of the relentless bobbing, decide to attempt to sail. I eke out 1.8, then 3 and then finally 4.5 knots. At 7:00 I put up the main – so of course the wind dies.
Saturday 26 September
We drift a while and tune into Peri Peri Net – there is no wind in the channel. Two other yachts – Blue Sky and Moose are on the Moz coast slowly moving down. We are all looking for a place to anchor for the front expected 29th. There is no chance of getting to Bazarutto with this wind and change our course for Ilha de Casurina 148nm away I keep hearing voices. David says he hears them all the time. He thinks they are conversations that are borne by the wind.
I make egg fried rice again – still delicious. David is enjoying the Wahoo Thai Red Curry which I still struggle to be in the same room as.
We put up the Gennaker to see if we can capture the little zephyrs wafting occasionally across the water, but they are not enough to hold it out. We laze around reading, sleeping, swimming. We motor for an hour to get somewhere and to charge the freezer. The stuffing box runs smoothly – cool to the touch and quietly. At least we have something to show for yesterday. We work out that we have drifted 18nm south in 12 hours – Agulhas current.
Sunday 27 September
“One of the very nicest things about life is that we must regularly stop whatever it is we are doing and devote our attention to eating.” – Luciano Pavarotti
Mouth watering aromas drift up from the galley. David serves up Sunday roast at sea with all the trimmings. We have been becalmed for two days now, right in the middle of the Mozambique Channel and we need a spoil. How extraordinary and how delicious.
We eat well. Meals are bountiful and varied and mostly accompanied by obligatory rice. Pork Adobo. Thai Red Fish Curry. Osso Bucco. Bolognaise. Pancakes. Every variety of stir fried rice. Not to mention freshly caught Wahoo steaks and yellow fin tuna sashimi.
A whiff of wind joins our celebration. We put up the jib – 2 knots; followed by the Gennaker – 4 knots; then eventually the main and jib – 5 knots. The wind increases and we have to put a reef in – 7 knots.
Monday 28 September
The wind continues throughout the night and morning and at 12:30 we sight land. We have a fast, close reach around Ilha de Casaurina to the anchorage where Blue Sky and Moose are already at anchor. We make a delicious pork stir fry for lunch with the left overs for early supper. Still hungry we have hot chocolate and then tea with condensed milk – super hot it finally does the trick. With the prospect of no watch duty and uninterrupted sleep we go to bed. I organised flowers for Nikki for our anniversary through Janet and Sharm.
Tuesday 29 September
The wind has turned as forecast and we are glad that we have made it to our protected anchorage. Our trusty baguettes are no more so David makes pancakes with the thickness of flapjacks smothered in Mad honey. We dinghy acrosss to the island which is tiny and entirely covered with Casuarina trees ringed with a bright white beach. I meet Jim and Emma and their kids Drake and Phoebe from Blue Sky (44′ ketch) from LA and Duncan and Irene from Moose (42 sloop Center Cockpit) from Canada and Netherlands. Nice to finally meet them having being party to their progress through Peri Peri Net.
We burn our rubbish and chat and then return to our boats. We are about to make another batch of Wahoo Thai Red Curry when we realise that we have mistakenly defrosted our last piece of tuna so we pan seer that instead. I am not sure how I will feel about this curry but I know it is delicious and we have a lot of wahoo.
It is is our anniversary today and I am really missing Nikki. How lucky am I to marry so well. I can’t wait to see her. Thank goodness for email so she at least knows what is happening and doesn’t have to worry. Even though the time to get even here is crazy, it is, I suppose, an insight into the world of cruising. Everything takes a long time and if you listen to the stories of boats that have left just recently and hit bad weather, it is better to be cautious and wait – “Saularity” sprung a leak, ran their bulge pump continuously, which then caught fire. They then had to hand pump all the way to Richards Bay where they were promptly caught by 40 knot winds from behind.
We finally make Thai Red curry for supper but Blue Sky invites us and Moose for drinks and snacks – white wine, popcorn, brie, curried hard boiled eggs, and cucumber dipped in garlic yoghurt. Amazing what some people carry on their boats. (Emma makes the yogurt).
Later Duncan brings out a local Madagascan rum. It is 60% proof and only a dash is required per drink. He has 3 jerry cans full each flavoured differently – lime, vanilla, banana. Jipcho is a dry boat, so this is quite a treat.
It is lovely to chat about different experiences. Everybody is circumnavigating. What a lovely evening. We don’t have the curry when we get back but at least it’s made.
Blue Sky is a 45′ ketch. Two roller reefing jibs (cutter), and both mains mast roller reefed. A centre cockpit with all lines controlled from there. It is fully enclosed and so they don’t need wet weather gear. Aft of the cockpit is a seating area where 6 of us sit very comfortably with our sundowners. There is a large aft cabin en suite, a large fore cabin, and a small side cabin with bunk beds for the kids. The kitchen is fully fitted with a large top loading fridge and freezer. The sumptuous head room a grand feeling of spaciousness. They cruise at a different level – lots of supplies with lots of variety. They have a vacuum sealer and buy large chunks of cheese which they store for months.There is a DVD player with lots of movies. They have a generator for aircon and charging batteries and 1000 litres of diesel. a water maker. It is like a home. There is a strict discipline. the kids get up every morning and “go” to school. Jim is fanatical about the boat.It was built in the 70’s. He is the 4th owner and has made substantial additions/changes. Every morning we see him bright and early wiping down every surface and working on something. It shows – the boat look brand new.
Wednesday 30 September
David makes rice with powdered milk, cinnamon and sugar for breakfast (apparently known as Japanese breakfast). We laze around and read and then go ashore with the others and walk around the island to where the fishermen base themselves while catching fish to take back to the mainland for their families and to sell. They look dirt poor and their catch drying in the sun looks meagre. Moose and Blue Sky have cans of food and T-shirts which they gift to fishermen.
We have Thai curry for lunch and then again for supper. It’s fine, but I’m not sure I enjoy wahoo.
Leaving “maybe tomorrow” is really frustrating. It feels like such a waste of time. People are now talking about leaving on Sunday. Four days away! Looking at the synoptic charts it looks like the wind at Bazarutto will be gone by then.
I am finding that I am not very good when I don’t have control of a situation. Although my instinct is to stick my nose out there and see, all the guys with experience are saying no. Also with the south wind there will be a lot of tacking.
Thursday 1 October
I had a terrible night’s sleep. The wind and current oppose and the boat rocks and rolls right through. I read the whole day. David makes stir fried rice for lunch and bolognese for supper – bar the wahoo, we eat exceptionally well.
We are invited for drinks on Blue Sky again. Irene made a dip of onion, tinned mushrooms, garlic and yoghurt. Emma made a very tasty fish curry. Everyone off to bed at 7:30 – exhausted.
Friday 2 October
We’re not leaving today! The wind is SE, but the following days it will S and speed is dropping by the day. So frustrating. At 10:00 we decide to leave. I suspect David feels my unhappiness and leaves despite his better judgement. If the seas are too nasty we will anchor at Fogo island 12nm away. The seas are amazingly big as we venture past the protection of Casuarina. The wind is SSE, 15 knots and so we decide to keep going. We catch another wahoo. Wind increases to 20-25 knots and we have 3 reefs in. The seas are confused and we bounce around. Perhaps I was fool hardy to push to leave. We have wahoo and rice for supper. David does a mammoth 1st watch until 2:45. I sometimes wonder whether he falls asleep? The seas are calm for my watch and it is good to finally make some progress. Forecast show S and SE winds for tomorrow and finally moving to E for Monday but light.
Saturday 3 October
Nikki is frantic. One of my daily emails did not go through resulting in a 48 hour gap in communication. My last email had said that I wanted to leave but the weather bad and now my daily mail is not there! Her friend Jodie’s husband, Alistair is in the diplomatic corps and they are investigating a search and rescue mission. Luckily the email finally gets delivered, in time to call it all off. I need to make sure my emails are delivered.
We have a great days sailing 6-6 knots in 10-15 knots SSE wind. we are being pushed (240° bearing) to Zambezi River mouth. We catch a skipjack tuna. Supper though, is stir fried rice with chopped beef steak – very yummy.
We cruise at 8 knots, with 2 reefs on smooth seas. We have moved 160 nm in the last 23 hours.
Sunday 4 October
We are pointing perfectly to the Eastern tip of Bazarutto, making excellent progress. Unfortunately there a cold front forecast for Richards Bay with the winds SW which can be very bad conditions. We will not be able to reach RB by 7th, so we will have to stop and wait somewhere. We decide on Inhambane because Inhaca, which would be ideal, has a reputation for all sorts of nonsense with officials demanding various fees with no receipts. Unfortunately we will get to Inhambane tomorrow afternoon already. Oh well, it is better than sitting in Casuarina waiting. Moose and Blue left Causerina this morning and will ironically catch up to us in Inhambane. At 12:00 the wind dies and we drift until 17:00 when it picks up again and we fly along at 8 knots with 2 reefs. It is David’s watch and I go to bed. I am woken from a deep sleep by a loud roar and a howling wind. I stumble up the companionway dazzled by a bright light directly ahead. David screams “which way”? In my befuddled state I think we have come up against the lighthouse on the tip of Bazarutto so I shout starboard. As David turns, I see a green light and it somehow sinks in that this must be a boat. I scream port, port, hard, hard. David jerks the wheel across and we slide beneath the stern of a huge trawler. If ever I suspected that David sleeps on watch, this confirms it. It is blowing 40 knots and we have to put the 3rd reef in. Exhilarating sailing. Fifteen minutes later the wind dies completely. The boat swings side to side. Eventually we turn the engine on and motor at 3.5 knots. Will I ever get out of here?
Monday 5 October
The forecast has always been no wind for today and there is no wind. We drift southward at 1.4 knots for the whole morning. The wind picks up at midday and we move along at 6 knots. The GRB charts and Graham on Ham radio confirms that SW winds are expected 7, 8, 9 October in RB. At our rate we will go straight into this – boat breaker wind against current. Peri Peri Net reports that one boat was dismasted and another ran aground 10 days ago. So we are not going to push through. High tide is at 5:00 tomorrow which we need to cross the bar at the mouth of Inhambane. We are going too fast (4 knots) even with 3 reefs and no jib.
“It’s almost impossible to watch a sunset and not dream”
Tuesday 6 October
We heave to at 4:00 outside Inhambane waiting for the tide. It takes 3 hours to motor through to the recommended anchorage just off Linga Linga Lodge. The tidal stream is very strong – our boat speed is 1.3 knots for engine revs that normally give 4 knots.
I am feeling quite low at the thought that we might only leave on the 8th or 9th. I spoke to Nikki who is saying don’t worry about it. I contacted Costella de Mar who helps me investigate flights – there is one tomorrow to Johannesburg for R2700 and they can organise a high speed boat to get me to the airport.
I speak to David about leaving and he is very understanding. Now that I know I can leave and confirming that Nikki is supportive, I feel empty about not completing what I had set out to do and have a complete change of mind. Nikki is hugely encouraging. David is very happy (and probably relieved). I feel light and cheerful. I was probably a miserable chop the last few days (my only excuse is that I was misled about the length of the trip). It looks like we will not be able to leave the river mouth as the wind will be in our teeth NE 20 knots on Thursday, but everything looks good for Friday. We had taken out wahoo for supper but neither of us is hungry so we have tea and repair to bed.
Wednesday 7 October
Pancakes – American Style
(Makes 1-2 thick pancakes)
Mix together:
1 1/2 cups of flour
1 heaped tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
3 heaped tsp sugar
Whisk together:
1/2 cup oil
1 egg
1 cup milk
1/3 tsp vinegar (instead of buttermilk)
Add to dry mix and mix til just consistent
Cook in frying pan med/low heat
After a wonderful, stable night’s sleep we have enormous pancakes for breakfast. Blue Sky comes in with the morning high tide and sleep all morning to recover from the trip. At midday we catch a lift in their dinghy ashore to Castello de Mar. We meet James who looks like he has lived in Moz too long with too many beers, too many cigarettes and too much sun. He organises fuel for Moose and Blue Sky saving the hassle of getting it from Inhambane. We don’t have to refuel as we have used so little. We then go looking for Funky Monkey – a backpackers haunt. The sand is so hot we have to run from shady spot to shady spot. We find a bar with cold beers and have one to cool off. Eventually we find Funky Monkey which is a bunch of lean-to’s. A fellow there says he can make a delicious supper of prawns, crab etc for 150 metacais. We’re non-committal. We move off to Linga Linga where we have an extraordinarily cold Millers. We arrange with black James to take us to town tomorrow via speedboat for 750 Mt.
Back on our boat we read and relax. Moose comes in on the afternoon high tide. They also collapse and sleep. They had arrived at the bar at 9:00 and had to wait until 15:30 in 25 knots. Interestingly we had left Casuarina on Friday in less than ideal conditions, whereas Blue sky and Moose had left on Sunday in supposedly perfect conditions, yet had rough seas and dead calms. The only reason why they are only a day behind us is that they motored whenever the winds were light whereas we drifted. The advantage of huge fuel tanks.
We had wahoo and rice for supper, followed by a special treat of 77% Madagascan chocolate. I am very relaxed now and enjoying myself thoroughly.
Thursday 8 October
We luxuriate in a sleep-in this morning – very tired. At 8:00 we pile into the speed boat for the 9 nm trip to Inhambane. The sea is rough and we are quite wet by the time we get there. The wide, clean, peaceful streets are lined with palms and trees. James takes us on a little tour — statue of Vasco da Gama, old church, the bank and then Mercado Centrale – clean and doesn’t smell. The fruit and veg look fresh and unblemished. We stock up on tomatoes, green pepper, lemons, onions, peanuts, cashews, cabbage, papaya and bananas. Then the boat takes us across to Maxixe which is not as picturesque as Inhambane for butter and pães (Portuguese baguettes). Moose and Blue Sky stock up on beers of which they drink copious amounts.
Inhambane is another old colonial town having seen better days.
We have an argument with James who claims that we need to pay for fuel as well. Very annoying, very Africa. Eventually we negotiate an amount that everybody is happy with – 1800 Mt. We have a high speed trip back our boats. It is low tide and we see a variety of fishing methods in action. There are individuals waist deep hand fishing. Some manage fish funnels with fences angled into a catchment area. It must be agony to be immersed in salt water for extended periods. Dhows are pulled by their crews walking on the sand bank.
We spend the afternoon reading while the wind howls at 20 knots. At 17:00 we go ashore for drinks and supper at Linga Linga Lodge. Succulent barbecued half chicken – but strangely no peri peri.
Hugs and kisses all round as we are leaving tomorrow. I have built quite a bond in a short space of time. Touchingly, Moose presents me with a dumpy coke bottle of vanilla rum.
Friday 9 October
We up anchor at 5:45! We motor for 3 hours out of the mouth and then a further 1 hour to get round the headland. The wind is picking up nicely. We hug the coast in the hope of seeing whale sharks (famous around Tofo), but no such luck. We see lots of humpbacks, a couple of manta rays doing the fandango and a turtle. Seas are smooth with a wind of 8-10 knots. We are doing 10 knots current and wind. We have Osso Buco and canelini beans for lunch. Life is good and we laugh a lot.
For supper we have left over Osso Buco with some fibrous green vegetable fried garlic, tomatoes and soy.
We have a rough night – the seas are all over the place and it is hard to keep the sails filled and keep a SW course. A while back we changed the 4+4 watch system to 2.5, 3.5, 3.5 starting from 20:00. One of us stands much more than the other, but we alternate nights and it is much easier to stand just 2.5 hours after a full day awake.
Saturday 10 October
The seas are still wild but a little easier this morning and we are able to steer more smoothly. It’s great to have our bread and honey for breakfast again (this time slathered with butter). Moose is 29 nm behind us. They made a sudden decision to leave at 11:00 yesterday as they are worried that they might not make the window if they left today. The Southerlies are expected Monday evening. Blue Sky left this morning and in typical fashion are barreling along with motors at maximum cruising speed 8 knots.
I make stir fried rice with sausicon. Absolutely delicious. It is like Xmas and we have been starved. We have smokey cashews that had been dry roasted on an open fire, Cadbury chocolate (although disappointing after Mad chocolate). David dry roasts the peanuts with garlic. We are swishing along quite nicely at 7 knots. The skies are overcast and gloomy but I see things differently now. On land I would say that a storm is coming. Now I look at synoptic charts, wind speed and direction and don’t think storm at all. There are quite a few boats racing to get to RB before Monday evening. Us, Moose, Blue Sky, Ovation, Nero, Moonwalker. The first 3 should make it. The next 2 are looking to give up and dive into Inhaca. Moonwalker is the furtherest away, but they are a cat and doing 10 knots and are confident they will make it. Roy, who handles Peri Peri Net is like a father shepherding his flock to safety. He is really quite sweet.
After our feast, neither of us is hungry so we have tea with Nikki’s crunchies which we have been husbanding throughout the trip. There are only 3 left now. When I wake up at 22:30 for my watch, clearly David has had the munchies – 1/2 tin of tuna, 1/2 tin of mielies, 1/2 baguette, mayo and tomatoes lay awaiting me in the galley. Very nice! Oddly, this is the first tinned food we have had the entire voyage. My watch is easy – only a few minor course changes to keep the sails full. It is misty and wet though and visibility is bad. A freak wave splashes into the cockpit and drenches my track pants.
Sunday 11 October
I have an excellent night’s sleep and wake fully refreshed. We have our customary baguette and honey and then David gets the munchies again and makes moist and tasty French toast. Wind is 15 knots and at 10:00 LAND AHOY! 25 nm to go.
The wind starts dying , we put up our quarantine flag and motor the last few miles into harbour after getting permission from Port Control. We tie up in the Small Craft Harbour at 16:20. It is calm and quiet.
We meet up with “Prism” and go to Captain Cook for supper. A less than salubrious eatery with patrons that can only aspire to be blue collar workers. We have Captain’s Burgers which have home made patties, onion, mushrooms, bacon, cheese, tomato, lettuce, pineapple, mustard, tomato sauce and an egg. Served with chips. We are in heaven.
Moose comes in 3 hours after us totally exhausted. They hit the forecast 25 knot S winds and it had been shear hell.
Monday 12 October
We walk across in a light drizzle to Zululand Yacht Club with Duncan to find out about putting up boats on the hard. It costs R3,000 to haul a yacht out, R3,000 to put it back and R800 a month for storage. Apparently the hauling out fee is double anywhere else in the world. By the time we get back to the boat, Immigration has been and gone and Safety & Security and Customs are busy. Amazingly simple and smooth process.
We have another Captain’s Burger for a late breakfast. I pack up and visit Moose which is a real home on water with a steel hull which they swear by for blue water sailing. They have a centre cockpit and the engine room is easily accessible. It is 39ft but very spacious.
Blue Sky comes in uneventfully (timing is everything) and we all go off to Captain Cook again. Just a quick drink for me though and with lots more hugs I am off to the airport by taxi. The plane is delayed by 25 minutes due to weather and when we take off we are buffeted and drop like I have never experienced before. I had to drink the wine out of the bottle.
Nikki picks me up at the airport. It is unbelievable wonderful to see and be with her. This is by far the longest we have been apart since we got married. Never again.
Aftermath
I find out later that the cold front which we had been racing to avoid hit RB as I got into the taxi – no wonder the plane was thrown around. Two yachts had to be rescued and towed in. One hit a sleeping whale (even with her engine, on it did not wake) and bent her prop shaft. Moonwalker broke a forestay and ripped her trampoline to shreds. Four others straggled in shocked and exhausted. The wind increased to 50 knots – a lot more than forecast. Our conservative approach paid off.
Epilogue
Thank goodness I stayed. I have enjoyed myself thoroughly once I got over just getting there. Although the inactivity and dependence on the weather has been frustrating at times, I learnt and experienced so much. How to read synoptic charts, wind and current, thePeri Peri net, email through sub, GPSMaxsea.
More importantly, experiencing and handling big waves, rough seas especially at night and how well yachts handles them. How amazing reefs are in bringing the boat under control. Never mind the knowledge I have of stuffing boxes, mechanical seals and lip seals.
It has also helped me be a better skipper. As a skipper I see everything – winch handles not put away, ropes not coiled. Perhaps it is because of the responsibility and the awareness of the consequences in an emergency. I do get short with crew. As crew, I somehow forget these things. especially initially. David has gentle way of bringing things to my attention either by doing it himself or he just mentions it – no exasperation shown.
A further benefit was that the miles and night hours logged were later crucial for my RYA Yachtmaster Offshore requirements.
But is it romantic?
Well, after the chores, forced sailing in the wrong direction, drifting for days, the relentless sun where it is too hot and sultry to be below deck and not a scrap of shade above, bathing with a bucket of sea water and rinsing with rationed fresh water, long watches, frustration with the interminable waiting, one might be tempted to say no. Then a humpback whale and calf surface and swim alongside or one stands on its head with just its flukes protruding for a good 20 minutes, or a manta ray leaps and crashes down into the sea, and then there is the endless variety of sunsets, the vastness, the insignificance of man, arriving at a postcard island; the answer is absolutely yes.
The hardest part is adjusting to the time that it takes. But seeing boats that had made different decisions limping, or worse being towed, into port, gear broken, the crews slack-eyed and drained, I am grateful for the decisions we made.
Did I enjoy it? Thoroughly. Would I do it again. Probably not. I would be hard pressed to volunteer to sail with a complete stranger and find such an ideal combination again: an experienced skipper, easy to get on with, who appreciates good food, with an interesting library, a beautiful sailor’s boat, no other crewa good balance of testing but manageable weather.
It definitely ticked the adventure box that I had been craving and also answered the question of whether I would like to “Sell up and Sail”, to which the answer is no. The real enjoyment is in the destination, and chartering provides ample opportunity to experience this in many varied parts of the world without the hassle of owning a boat and time and risk to get there.
My aim was to expand my sailing skills, but I got so much more: friendships, beauty, an understanding of round-the-world sailors, a sense of wonder, a sense of place. All in all an unforgettable experience.
“The sea below me. The sky above me. It makes me feel free.” (Unknown)
1. Hell-Ville. 2. Ramanamy. 3. Ilha Lava. 4. Baly Bay. 5. Ilha Casuarina. 6. Inhambane. 7. Richards Bay
24 days – 6 bay hopping in Madagascar, 2 becalmed, 9 sailing, 7 waiting for Northerly window
1650 nm
1 thought on “Sailing from Madagascar to Richards Bay, South Africa”
Geoff and Nikki! I miss you guys, and of course the days and nights of sailing life.