We tumble out of the taxi bright and early, eager to get going. The boat isn’t quite ready, so we enjoy full English breakfasts on the deck of the Boardwalk Bar & Grill, the rich red roofs of the Eden Island villas and rows of luxurious white yachts reflecting in the turquoise water around us.
Replete, we whizz around the Spar for provisions while our luggage is loaded onto the boat.
Saturday 23 May
Eden Island Marina is an exclusive man-made residential marina just off the coast of Victoria, Mahé. Connected to the mainland via a 300-meter bridge, it features high-end apartments and villas, private beaches, and of course Eden Plaza which has a Spar, restaurants and the offices of the charter companies.
There are many tropical islands in the world, but for their beauty, peace and charm, none can compare to the Seychelles islands. Famed all over the world for their legendary beauty, rolling from verdant peaks, through primeval forests, down to powder-soft beaches framed by timeless granite boulders – where the only footprints you’ll find will be your own. This unique archipelago’s more than 116 islands, set like precious stones on 1.4 million square kilometres of azure ocean, are located between 4 and 10 degrees south of the equator. Here, 42 granitoid islands cluster around the principal islands of Mahé, Praslin and La Digue while the coral islands, more numerous still, extend in a gleaming arc towards the shores of East Africa.
Since time immemorial, Seychelles has charmed successive generations of sailors with its rugged beauty, enticing them with easy sailing distances between the islands; luring them to safe moorings and to the privacy of its myriad of hidden coves and secret beaches. Wondrously little has changed for modern day sailors who may still enjoy the ultimate freedom of discovering the isles at their own whim and pace aboard any one of the state-of-the-art vessels that comprise the local charter fleet.
Lester takes us through a very comprehensive boat briefing. There is a lot to get through especially the intricacies of the generator, solar power, inverter, air conditioner and water purifier.
Somehow it’s already 13:00. The glare and reflected heat from the deck is harsh and we are dehydrated despite drinking lots of water. The humidity is sapping as we walk from the furthest jetty back to the office for the chart briefing from Jocelyn. We stock up with more water and ice cold cokes, feverishly licking our yummy frozen yoghurts from YoLoveIt before they melt.
Finally, we disconnect shore power, slip our lines and ease out of our berth. The channel is clearly marked and easy to navigate. Paul and I spend time getting used to the chart plotter and various instruments. Once clear of the channel we raise the Genoa with the SE directly behind us. Gerry pops up with hair raising G&T’s followed by refills shortly thereafter. Our holiday has begun🍹
This boat is big – the height above sea level and width is substantially greater than the Leopard 38 we had in the Bahamas – but handles so easily.
We had originally chosen a Moorings 4000 – 3 cabin catamaran. Just before leaving, I received a email saying that our yacht had a generator problem and would we mind an upgrade to a Sunsail 424 – 4 cabin catamaran. No we didn’t mind at all.
We set course for Baie Ternay on the West coast of Mahé to get a good sail in, become comfortable with the boat and avoid busy anchorages. We sail along the lengthy, popular beach of Beau Vallon full of restaurants and accommodation. There are about 10 yachts anchored in the bay.
We motor into Baie Ternay, drop anchor in 10m making sure it is well set and throw ourselves into the sea – refreshingly cool at 26°. There is only one other yacht.
Suitably revitalised and comfortably ensconced on the upper lounge as the sun sets, the tranquility is broken only by the clinking of glasses and murmurs of appreciation for the delicious baked cheesy chicken dish that Gerry quietly rustled up while we were sailing. What more could we want…? A little local colour…? The boom-boom of a steel hulled party boat steams into the anchorage. No doubt they’ll be off soon enough after their sundowners.
Our party friends keep roaring away. Maybe we are mistaken? It is Saturday, and they might be here for the long haul. There is no chance of sleeping through this racket. We notice that the other yacht has up anchored for quieter waters.
Soon though, a delightful clunk echoes across the bay as their anchor seats and they boom off into the dark. It’s probably the best fun you can have on Saturday night on the island unless you are us and have a quiet anchorage and your own boat.
Our very full day is catching up to us. After condensed milk coffee and Toblerone, Paul sets a position alarm monitor and we’re in bed by 7:30 and asleep soon after, helped by the gentle rocking. We all already have bruises on some part of our bodies as we don’t have our sea legs yet. It’s hot once we switch the aircon off and the light breeze is not sufficient to cool us although a midnight drizzle helps.
I am woken from a deep sleep at 3:00 by a strident alarm. I rush on deck befuddled, not believing that we can possibly have drifted. The torch reflects off the rain, so I can’t take a position on the shore. We’re still pointing SE and I can hear the surf is still where it was when we anchored. Very confused…. until Gerry switches off the gas alarm 😀
After coffee, we dinghy to the beach in the northern cove which has a fresh water spring. Jocelyn had warned us about the surf line, but we are caught by a wave that dumps on us, filling the dinghy with water. We whip out the oars and manage to get to shore, repeatedly smashed by waves. Everything is soaked. Uncharacteristically, I had put my camera in a wet bag and had removed all out sailing logs and licences from my back pack, so no harm done. Nikki has our passports in her backpack, but only a tiny bit of water manages to penetrate – go Temu!
Sunday 24 May
We dinghy further into the bay, when suddenly the water splits open, and the curve of a dolphin’s back cuts an arc through the air, glossy and dark. Two more surface and dive all around us. We tie up to a mooring buoy and slip into the water, welcomed by an array of reef fish, turtles, and rays. Little zebra fish flit continuously in front of our masks.
The rangers arrive to collect the park fee and scold us for anchoring too close to the reef. (We had tried very hard not to). Our charts have large koki anchors drawn on them, indicating broadly where you can anchor. Other than this there is no sailing guide that shows clearly where to anchor.
They are very friendly though, pointing out the dolphins that have resurfaced and a turtle swimming by.
Shortly after leaving we raise the sail with difficulty. I can barely reach the stackpack with my outstretched hands, releasing the tiedowns by feel. It’s not easy keeping the boat into the wind and the sail catches in the jackstays. Eventually it’s up, not as flat as I would like, but we’re off. We’re in the wind shadow of the entire island, useful for safe anchoring, but not for sailing, so we use the engine as well. Then we’re clear, on a broad reach. The Genoa is a dream to tune – perfect flat telltails, the main, not so much, and I struggle to set it.
Much later as the wind changes to a close reach, I notice that the boom is sheeted upwind of centre🙄 yet still has a huge belly. Control of the mainsail is via a double block system, rather than a track, which means there are two sets of sheets to operate. I see that’s how I’m supposed to use them – the windward controls the angle of boom and leeward controls the leech. I had the leech completely loose. Sheeting in the leeward sheet immediately flattens the sail and our speed picks up. That’s better. We have 28nm of open sea with a SE for a perfect beam reach to Praslin. Best we do it style.
Nikki and Gerry conjure up crispy baguettes with Mortadella, lettuce and tomato, washed down with beer shandies.
Nikki has been stung by a wasp and her hand is swollen quite badly.
This beautiful ship appears every day wherever we go.
A 5 hour passage and we drop anchor in Anse Lazio. The Honesty Bar, for which it is famous, had conjured up a deserted anchorage with a beach shack with Rupees left in a glass jar from occasional sailors desperate for a drink. My romantic delusion is dispelled by the twenty yachts at anchor and the resorts ashore.
We’re hot and tired and the thought of going ashore sounds like too much effort. Gerry (now known as Bad Gerry) sets the scene with some rather stiff Takamaka rum and pineapple cocktails and we cool off in the water shielded from the sun between the hulls. We whip up a creamy, prawn and vodka pasta and we’re early to bed again. No noise from the other yachts.
Monday 25 May
Dawn casts a weak orange light across the water as we pore over the charts establishing the general plan for the day. We really want to slow things down. The last 2 days have been quite a rush – arriving at our anchorages at 17:00 too tired to enjoy them. We have a quick refreshing dip off the boat.
Nikki’s hand is worse than yesterday. Dr. Google confirms it will get worse before it gets better.
We go ashore on the southern side of the bay with a much smoother landing this time and by happenstance land right at the Honesty Bar. Very rustic, very appealing and very cold condensation beading the fridges. The drinks menu has beers, hard tack and recipes for different cocktails but 8:00 is a little early so we wander down the beach passing a wide range of well established accommodation with carefully manicured green lawns. There is a tar road linking to the rest of the island and grudgingly I accept that you cannot have the label “one of the most attractive beaches in the world “ without being exploited. The path along and on the beach is lovely and it takes a while to get to other side as we all try to capture the perfect shot.
Our plan for the day is Curiuese Marine Park – Curiuese Island and St Pierre Island. Each requires a pass but the same pass can be used for both on the same day. We anchor off Anse St José, very careful to drop anchor in clear sand, avoiding the coral. It’s midday and just too hot to contemplate going ashore to snorkel or walk across the island to Baie Laraie.
We have chicken mayo and egg mayo sandwiches, shandies, relax and read. At 14:00 Nikki (our thermometer) says it’s OK to go. Should we snorkel first or walk first? The park ranger explains that the sea is a bit churned around Curieuse and at St Pierre at the moment and suggests Praslin at the Raffles resort for the best snorkelling.
As to whether the walk across island is worth it? There are tortoises and a chance of seeing hammerhead sharks that use the area as a nursery. We reason that 1.7 km can’t be too bad. There is also an option of a barbecue on the beach later. (EUR40 no alcohol, EUR50 with alcohol). We can pay the park fee when we get back. The path is shielded from the sun but rather humid and we’re soon pouring and breathing quite heavily as it climbs steeply. But, we reason, it’s all downhill from here 😂. We meet a French group looking a little frazzled asking “how much further”!
At the top lookout point, Gerry decides enough is enough and turns back. We can see the route along the edge of the bay. It seems simple enough and as we’ve come so far, we might as well go all the way.
Alas! We have to traverse 2 more tough hills which we couldn’t see from the top. Finally we make it down onto the 433m boardwalk (the longest in Seychelles) which traverses the mangrove swamp with it’s many different types of root systems to Baie Leraie.
The tortoises are remarkable – no pictures had given me a sense of how large they are. They are so stately, calm and wise. I suppose they are old…
The ranger on this side says the ranger on the other side wants to go home so can we rather pay her.
We throw ourselves into the tepid and murky water with no hammerheads to be seen. Still, it’s refreshing after that walk. Then we walk briskly back to St José (1 hour to get there, 30 minutes to return)
Back on the yacht by 16:00 we head across to Praslin and the recommended snorkelling spot. The best snorkelling we’ve experienced for years – a large variety of beautiful fish, clear water and colourful coral. Eventually we leave and drop anchor at Anse Volbert.
Gerry notices our dinghy is inexplicably half full of water. Much later Paul works out that I didn’t raise the dinghy between anchorages and tied it up alongside, conveniently positioned for the exhaust water to pour in. 🥸
We go ashore looking for a rustic restaurant without much luck. The first place we come across has a very nice looking buffet but we are not in the mood for all-you-can- eat and SCR 750 pp is a bit steep.
Café des Arts is much more appealing with a good selection of cocktails – we have a Mai Tai, Cafe des Arts, Classic Mojito and Love Beach. Paul has Creole chicken curry and the rest of us have whole grouper with passion fruit sauce. A delicious and lovely evening albeit with an eye watering bill.
Tuesday 26 May
We wake to another gentle morning with a touch of pink in the sky. Breakfast today is French toast, crispy bacon, cheese and tomatoes – we really are eating well. We motor back to yesterday’s snorkelling spot. We add bullnose rays and a lion fish to our list. Remoras flick around the boat and gobble up the stale bread we throw overboard. Where are their sharks?
Nikki’s bite is no better. The culprit is still arrogantly flying around, landing dangerously all over the place. Sadly we can’t take a chance and Nikki sprays him, but not before giving Gerry stray blast first.
As we prepare to leave, the anchor comes up too quickly and wedges in the bow roller. It takes some levering with a large screwdriver to free it.
We sail back to Anse Lazio for a swim, but mainly for Paul and I to go ashore to the Honesty Bar. Warmly welcomed, we have Creole Cocktails (50 ml Dark rum (43%), 25 ml Coco rum, 25 ml Anana rum and pineapple juice. Very strong, very nice; and very happy we return to the boat.
We sail down the coast to Baie Ste Anne where Robert the Chef meets us in his skiff, guiding “Capitaine” to a mooring. He punctiliously asks for permission to board. He is an interesting fellow born on the island and is quite enterprising. He organises for a taxi to take us to Vallei du Mai tomorrow.
A fiery sunset provides a glorious backdrop to G&T’s on the top deck. A youngster in a skiff carves circles in the estuary cutting across his wake, having immense fun. Kids kick a soccer ball around on the beach. A large fruit bat flies overhead, like something from a Gothic movie.
Robert delivers dinner at 7pm – enormous portions of Jack fish in a delicious sauce, chicken curry, rice, salad and fruit salad, filling and tasty. We store leftovers for another meal.
Wednesday 27 May
We awake to dark clouds. Rain comes down in a thick sheet obliterating the Dream Yacht Charter cats neatly lined up against the jetty. Our swimming shorts and shirts on the guard rail are totally drenched, relishing the fresh water rinse. I’m reading “Has anyone seen Charlotte Seltzer” by Nicci French. Robert arrives to collect our rubbish and his dishes. A very reasonable charge of $140/SRC 1900 for the meal and the mooring. Fond farewells.
And then the sun is out.
Trying to sort out the water maker
We go ashore and Mervin collects us in his deliciously cold taxi for the trip to Vallei du Mai. We pass through the town along the estuary, the shops increasing in number and variety. As we wind high up into the hills the forest closes in either side. We are effusively welcomed at entrance building, cautioned that we will miss out on many important facts and experiences if we don’t use a guide. We take that chance.
Incredible textures of bark and root systems
Coco de mer male and female.
Dappled light filters through the canopy towering above us. Dead palm leaves carpet the forest floor around the well marked path that wanders between the trunks and huge granite boulders. A cooling breeze and the earlier rains edge away the humidity. The quiet is broken only by the flutey whistles of black parrots and the occasional strident voices of the guides echoing through the forest ensuring that they provide value for their fee.
Mervin promptly meets us after 2 hours and drops us at the Darling Supermarket. Tiny, but remarkably well stocked.
Provisions safely stowed, we explore the creek by dinghy meandering past boat repair facilities, delivery barges and a church with a jetty. We motor under a bridge and a whole new area opens before us including the ferry docks.
Back on the boat, the girls make delicious rolls with Parma ham, salami, tomato and lettuce with shandies. We slip our moorings and move into the channel. It is very choppy and more so when we move into the open sea for the passage to La Passé on La Digue. We motor as we’re still heading SE into wind. Another shandy on the way.
We put down a very solid hook, have a refreshing swim and our sundowner du jour is rum and passion fruit. We christen the barbeque with delicious, juicy burgers. For a change we’re not exhausted and spend the evening talking over red wine, coffee, chocolate and good music
Thursday 28 May
We go ashore and tie the dinghy to the dock. It ‘s such a welcome change to step shore keeping our feet dry. Paul is just contemplating relocating the dinghy to avoid a sharp edge on the dock, when a young local strolling down the ramp, shakes his head dubiously and says “go pop!”. He is referring to the potential damage to the dinghy not to Paul’s advancing years.😀
La Passé is a busy, dusty little port with a constant crisis-cross of tourists disgorged from ferries, bicycles, electric people movers and touts for rental bikes. First things first – The Bakery for tasty pastries and delicious coffee and then to the Tourism office – the blast of icy air quite seducing. She suggests renting bikes going clockwise around island until the dead end and then back through La Passé down to Anse Source de l’Argent and then across the middle. SCR200 for day rental (SCR 600 for e-bike) but we are assured that a normal bike is easy.
We pedal past a series of beach bars and beautiful accommodation. Le Domain de l’Orangerie looks particularly inviting, guests lounging under palm covered pergolas around the pools, sipping cool drinks.
We wind along the coast alternately struggling up slopes and speeding downhill. The shoreline is characterised by deep sea and flat coral area so if you anchor you can’t get your dinghy ashore. Couples baking in the sun dot long stretches of beach. We admire the brightly coloured paintings at George Camille Gallery Villa Verte but it is hard to fully appreciate them as we are drenched and out of breath .
We turn at the dead end and head back to the beach bar area. Bikini Bottom – the palm frond beach bar that we have been fantasising about – has a long list of cocktails, but we are shattered and need the sugar kick of real ice cold Coke. Maybe we should have spent SCR600 for the e-bikes? We unanimously decide that we have had enough of the heat and exercise. We stock up with more fruit juice, ice, sprite and fresh baguettes, return our bikes and repair to our air conditioned haven.
Shandies all round and a long soak off the back of the boat followed by egg mayonnaise and porkie baguettes soon revive our spirits. We enjoy a relaxing afternoon snooze, reading and G&T’s. We concoct a delicious kedgeree with Robert’s jack fish and rice and peas.
We are running low on water (30%). I am unable to get the water maker to work – it continuously trips at the generator. I make long calls to Damien at the base and try everything he suggests to no avail.
Friday 29 May
We make an early start to Cocos and Les Soeurs islands. The seas are wild and it is cloudy and gloomy when we arrive. We make a spontaneous call to leave for Sainte Anne and rather spend 2 days there. It’s blowing 20 knots and we enjoy a great sail, with a reef in, across to Mahé. Rather than skimp on water, we pop in to base and fill up. Damien has a look at the water maker and establishes that a capacitor needs to be replaced. We’re happy to ignore this for now as we have full tanks again. The girls brave the heat to Spar for a few items and come back with piping hot, juicy pizzas, complaining that a single potato cost them SCR39. 🍕
We sail across to Cerf Island, where it is difficult to anchor between the coral. Eventually we change plan and go to Sainte Anne. Between missing the coral and reversing in a straight line, it takes three attempts here too. I find that I need to use 1 engine and opposite rudders.
The snorkelling here is amazing – quantity and variety. We’re so pleased that we left this place for last and that we are staying here for 2 days.
Saturday 30 May
We dinghy to Cerf which looks inviting from afar but the visibility is not nearly as clear as St Anne.
Wherever we anchor, a school of batfish (known for their friendliness) swim around the boat and us.
We relax all day and during our afternoon snorkel we see a sea snake. A first for us!
Supper is chicken thighs on the braai with delicious salad. Paul, the DJ, has a nostalgic playlist and we are awake til 9pm quaffing Amarula on ice.
Sunday 31 May
We’re up early to pack, clean and sail across to the base to disembark. We haul all our luggage off onto a golf cart, have our logbooks stamped at the office and go to reception at Eden Island. We can’t check in until 14:00 and it’s 11:00 now.
So we relax under the cool fans while Paul and Nikki sort out the lengthy check-in process with fingerprints and photos for facial recognition. I do the important stuff and check out the various restaurants in Eden Plaza and select Ochan, boasting 4 different cuisines.
I have chicken katsu, the crumbed chicken is a touch dry, but the sauce is good and so is the salad. Nikki has a superb prawn and chicken Pad Thai, Gerry the chicken curry and Paul a juicy burger.
We can’t resist strawberry daiquiris
Our villa, situated on the ground level, has 2 bedrooms, an open plan kitchen and lounge. The owner’s Bavaria 39 is moored at their private dock.
We wallow blissfully in the quiet pool for an hour as the sun goes down. Paul has the brilliant idea of hiring a car for the next day. Initially it doesn’t look promising, as you have to be younger than 65 and the only one that qualifies – Nikki – doesn’t have her driver’s license with her. Eventually he finds someone who will provide a car and deliver it to us at reception 8:00 Monday and allow us to return it at the airport on Tuesday. All for SCR 740. (a single trip taxi ride has been costing us SCR600.
As usual, Nikki and I are suffering from land sicknes. Known medically as Mal de Débarquement Syndrome (MdDS), it causes a persistent rocking or swaying sensation, dizziness, and imbalance that kicks in after you return to solid ground following a trip on a boat, plane, or train. When you spend time on a moving vehicle, your inner ear and brain adjust to compensate for the constant motion. When you step back onto stationary land, your brain struggles to “recalibrate” and continues to send signals that you are still swaying. Luckily we are used to it and it goes away after about 5 days.
Monday 1 June
Nikki prepares baguettes for padkos and we set off for Beau Vallon. Waze works perfectly and our data Sim continues to be indispensable. The road climbs steeply over Morne Seychellois and our little Suzuki Hustler Hybrid takes a little strain.
We find out that many of the best beaches are accessed through resorts. We arbitrarily turn into Berjaya Resort where it’s feeding time at the tortoise pen.
I can see why Beau Vallon is so popular. The brilliant white sands extends on both sides as far as the eye can see. Paul and I are happy to relax on loungers in the shade, while the girls go for a long dip under the watchful gaze of one of the many stray dogs that laze on the beach.
We drive on around the bay to find somewhere to snorkel. On the northern side we park near a cluster of granite rocks. A fish market is in progress and a fresh bag is spilled out onto the table – mostly reef fish. We’re sad to see our friends parrot fish, sweet lips and wrasse.
Paul and I snorkel in the best visibility to date, with some lovely fish but limited variety.
Next we have a tour of the Takamaka distillery. The sugar cane is local, but everything else is brought in. Due to the high temperatures in Seychelles they dont age the rum in wooden barrels as they lose too much quantity and strength from evaporation. They produce light rum 23%, dark rum 43% and overproof 69%.
We choose to have cocktails at the bar instead of the tasting option. There are some interesting items on the menu but Harold insists on making something special for us. I have no idea what he put in mine but within 10 mins I can no longer form coherent sentences and even individual words are difficult. (Evil Harold trumps Bad Gerry). Although we are still hoping to find Paul’s ideal palm fronds shack, the food looks good here and we have gourmet sandwiches and a second cocktail of course.
A quick trip home and we lie in the pool ’til supper. Gerry is especially keen to have the Pad Thai which I second, so we go back to Ochan. Paul has Ginger beef rice and Nikki has chicken and corn soup. We all drink sparkling water. 😂
What a delightful end to a delightful holiday. Seychelles has been on our bucket list for a long time and it hasn’t disappointed.
