Madagascar

Well, we are here at our (first) destination at last! We have cleared in to Madagascar and are formally allowed to stay for a month, after which time we will be heading up to the Seychelles. We have been in Madagascar for about 4 days as our clear-in destination was Nosy Be, on the NW tip of the country, so we enjoyed some of the islands and river anchorages on the way up. “Paradise” about sums it up …!

Anyway, we can summarise our life since 15 September as: 2822 nautical miles from CT to Madagascar, extended sojourn in Richard’s Bay (whoopee!! and twice, due to our aborted first departure…), stops at Inhambane (Moz) and Bassas da India (atoll in the middle of the Moz channel) and safe arrival at our first major “destination”.

However, this trip is not about the destinations but rather about the journey; the latter has provided a great wealth of opportunities to learn, experience and see the watery side of our planet. We have learned about sailing (fortunately… but I am still very nervous of storms and we still need much more experience, although they say if you have sailed up from Cape Town you are no longer novices!) and the amazing marine world (we stopped to swim in the middle of the channel on a very still day then while eating lunch saw birds diving nearby…. they soon came calling and wheeling over us and our boat was surrounded by jumping fish and prowling sharks!). We have also learned about fishing (huge fish just attach themselves to your two lines simultaneously as it turns out, causing you to learn how to gut and fillet them and store them in an already-full tiny freezer) … while in Irene’s case, learning has included cutting Rolf’s hair!
The pictures and memories we have in our heads are just astounding, from incredible and (REALLY) awesome whale interactions (one blew alongside us as we were sitting on the trampoline at twilight, so close it went under our bowsprit, while another resulted in Shane hopping into the dinghy to rescue us from our scuba dive … a whale was coming alarmingly close) to exhausting (and sometimes scary, particularly when associated with sleep-deprived hallucinations…) watch-keeping to the beauty of night skies with no ambient light but with incredible phosphorescence in the water below.

We have seen SUCH beautiful areas: Bassas da India, an atoll surrounded by hundreds of miles of sea and only above the water a few hours a day which provided incredible snorkeling and diving from the boat (beautiful reef fish shaded themselves from the sun under us); Nosy Iranje (turtle island) and Sakatia, two very different Madagascan islands (the former with white beaches and turquoise seas; the latter with forested headlands and sheltered coves).

The local people are friendly and interested in us (and tolerant of Irene’s French fumblings) and we have been approached on the boat by fishermen (or their children sometimes) and traders selling fruit, octopus, the HUGEST crabs and a turtle (different eating patterns here… we went for the fruit!)

We are so privileged to be able to have these opportunities, but it comes at a cost… that being, of course, missing our friends and family and simply sitting over a meal or a drink with them and sharing in the stories of their lives too. But the time for that will come again…. maybe here with us!

Shane and Laura (the crew who came with us from R Bay) left us yesterday; they were great to have on board, helped a lot on the exhausting passage and we all got on well together. We now have a month in Madagascar, sharing part of that time with friends coming to spend a week with us later in November.

I have no idea how we will run this month of exploring the area… being two fairly driven, busy personalities it will be interesting to see if we can slip into the role of being “cruiser yachties”… whatever that might mean. But we will certainly get all we can out of it, and take our home (and intrepid dinghy) around to as many places as possible!

Richards Bay to Moz

A week ago we were sitting in Richard’s Bay for the second round of repairs etc. Now we are anchored in the Inhambane harbour, with their dhows and ferries, big and small, working their way around this unusual sight of a yacht in harbour. This is Mocambique: hot, flat, humid, endless beaches, brilliant white diamond reflections dancing off the water, coconut palms, mostly-derelict buildings, friendly people who try happily to communicate with us (and sign language just does not always work, does it!?).

In RB, after finding the source of (some of) the problems to be water in the fuel, Rolf found the source of THAT to be the yacht builder’s innovative way of draining water from the runnels around the deck lockers via a pipe that met up with the overflow pipes from the fuel and water tanks. On paper, this looked fine, since on paper the yacht is always horizontal and thus the pipes all drained down and out. Reality check: yachts rock and roll in the sea and steep seas mean water over the top, into the runnels, into the overflow pipes… and back into the water and fuel tanks! AAARGH!! So we had slightly salty water to drink and engines refusing to do their work. Of course, this summary takes 2 minutes to read, giving no hint of the time and thinking effort that went into the final identification of this problem! So we dumped a whole tank-load of diesel and Rolf concocted his own special way of dealing with the deck water run-off (disconnect the offending pipes and make them drain into the lockers, which drain out anyway!) and plugged the overflow hoses so they stopped getting a sip of sea water every time the sea hit their outlet. We still have (other) problems in the port engine, which did not go away, so Rolf is yet again in discussion with the suppliers… and SO TIRED of all this admin, particularly as communicating with them is so difficult (from the point of view of signal… Vodacom went on the blink for days and the sat phone is imperfect … and the supplier’s attitude!)

On departure from RB, we must have amused the onlookers, with an extra motor and diesel jerry cans strapped on the back (being delivered for others), fenders tied on where we could and a stalk of bananas swinging on the davits over the dinghy (which caught the ripe crop well). Note: Bananas ripen rapidly when swinging freely on big seas, basted with sea water and warmed in the sun. Bananas go down well whole / in fruit salad / on toasted sandwiches with bacon as well as with tomato and cheese. We loved our bananas but if you have any other banana-based ideas, please send them to us…!

The trip up was uneventful in terms of the sailing: fairly good weather conditions, no illness, able to prepare reasonable meals / shower / sleep but nonetheless we all became exhausted by the constant physically tiring motion and rotating watch system, which also had to be overlapped with other boat duties, particularly in Rolf’s case.

Fortunately the entry into Inhambane was also uneventful, considering the fact that the 10mile stretch on the charts, reference books and chart plotter all show buoyage (about 7 buoys were supposedly there to guide us to and through the few deep-ish channels in this flat, shallow expanse) … and there was not a single one in place!! This also had impact on our anchoring: tried to pull up anchor to find a massive chain over it (that we had dragged into) attached to a concrete bock; no doubt the chain also used to have a buoy at the top of it…. Anyway, during anchoring we also pulled up a thick barnacle-encrusted rope, so have been dredging the harbour for them.


A wait in the Inhambane area for their weekend and public holiday time-off before we checked through port procedures and immigration and did the shopping gave us a great time to rest and relax. The ferries in this part of the world are most interesting (Rolf getting into one in the photo)… are you surprised that the engine of this one cut out and we ended up being towed to land by another one, just as derelict!!??

We also anchored off Linga Linga, a pretty peninsula jutting into the channel to Inhambane. Linga Linga particularly is isolated and rustic, fairly abundant with dhows with their amazing centuries-old sail structures and small fish traps in the water. We took the dinghy into the shallows and up little estuaries and walked inland, glimpsing the lives of those in this poor, primitive area of the country.

We were absolutely delighted by the marine life on the way up. We stopped counting the whales but never tired of them: swimming alongside us, breaching with water streaming off their massive bodies and falling back with almighty crashes, waving at us (say, 10m from the boat…) on their backs with fins in the air, calling over the top of the sea with deep, hollow, melodious calls… a sound we had never heard, being more familiar with their normal call heard underwater (and in our cabins). Then, of course, the sunsets and sunrises. Always beautiful… and always enhanced by their reflection on the water.

We really enjoy getting your news, telling of your lives, joys, frustrations …. I recently told a friend that our reasons for not sleeping are so different from yours.... bad seas/engines playing up/sat phone sms system not working/typical African admin hassles when clearing in and out of new country/worries about power, food, water management on the boat/worries about family and friends and so limited in our ability to talk with them.... but nonetheless this life provides so much learning and so many ways of seeing the world through new eyes, so we will stick with it for a while!

We plan to spend another day or so anchored as in the photo (previous!) in the Inhambane area (depending on weather and final preparations), hopefully fit in a dive then head off for the big push: Nosy Be (Madagascar) with little stopping en route except for a possible anchorage at Bassas or Europa to sleep. However, sleep is not easy at anchor: our first night at anchor in the exposed Inhambane Bay proved enlightening in that the motion was totally new to us: forward and back rock and roll combined with sideways swinging and many a jitter on the water made us feel highly odd and disorientated, although fortunately not ill. The best thing to do was go to bed! Anchorages in sheltered bays are sought if we need to sleep and really rest… so hope we find some in the next few weeks…

As we were...!

AAAARRRGH!!



After leaving Richard's Bay with great enthusiasm yesterday (late in the day as the winds were due to be on the nose but then diminishing around midnight) we met the seas on the nose quite happily and proceeded to settle down into a routine when... engine trouble on the port side reared its head; some anxiety and uncertainty followed but we decided since cats have two engines we would proceed cautiously and attempt to fix this one.


In terms of the fixing: for "we" read newly-experienced diesel mechanic Rolf! In fact, he got the port engine up to pace again but within 5 hours of departure the port engine was out completely and starboard was showing signs of trouble. So we turned through 180 and set off "home"!


Happily we were able to get in some good sailing for a while, and the quiet swooshing sounds accompanied by full moon reflections dancing on the water were wonderfully rewarding. Sadly the weather guys were right... the wind DID die down! So now we were left wallowing a bit, being carried at a bit over 2 knots by the current alone. Happily Diesel Rolf managed to get the S/B engine going so we were able to motor onto our previous wall berth and 2:45 am.... very weary souls.

So today is fixing day; hopefully all will be sorted so that we can leave again tomorrow or wednesday. Watch this space...!

A stop in Richards Bay

So here we are, happily bobbing around at the Zululand Yacht Club in Richards Bay… and about to leave again! We have been very settled here, enjoying the green lawns, coconut palms, laundry, proximity to shops (everything is very close in this little town!), access to chandlery (yacht retail goods) and competent help and Yacht Club pub with fine fare at a very low price!

We are delighted to have on board Laura and Shane, both recently-qualified coastal skippers from Cape Town who need their miles before they can go for their yacht masters qualifications. They will remain with us until we reach Nosy Be in Madagascar, and share all ships’ duties with us – this will certainly reduce the load on us and hopefully make a pleasant trip for all.

Ketoro is docked up against the wall at the yacht club, a very interesting and new situation as we have previously been alongside ‘walk-on’ jetties, which rise and fall along with the boats as dictated by the tides. The wall, of course, is not as obliging, and on top of this it is spring tides (full moon), resulting in the following challenges to getting on and off the boat using our tatty wooden “gangplanks” (the high-tide situation demonstrated by Shane and Laura …. and Rolf, carrying Irene’s handbag!)…

This has also been a lovely place to receive visitors: family from Durban and the kids from Pretoria who gave us an excuse for play-time in the middle of the working!

So we are off tomorrow; the weather is not going to be perfect (wind on the nose, so we will bump our way uncomfortably into the seas) but if we wait for perfect we will wait forever. Rolf read somewhere that whilst sailing, one in three sailing days is excellent (i.e. the weather, dolphins, water-maker and bilges all behave, I guess!!) so the sooner we get going, the sooner we will find them!

Ups and downs of our first passage

Well, this was finally it… we were on our way! After the long delay, Ronnie (our delivery skipper) and Patrick (our friend who wanted to join in this experience… called “mad” by some of his friends, apparently…!) got on board with us and on Tuesday 15 September we set off... looking like sea gypsies with all the stuff we were transporting to Madagascar for Admiral! The weather was not predicted to be perfect, but in Cape Town if you wait for perfect you will wait forever... and then, perfect as you leave CT may not lead to perfect for other parts of the voyage.

Our first day saw big rough lumpy seas, with Ketoro bumping and rolling up and down heading into the swells, first on motor and then main (reefed as the winds increased) and headsail with winds 25kn SW.

Ronnie set up a 3-hour watch system for the passage: this worked very well (Pat suffered motion sickness and was excluded for the first 24 hours until he got his sea legs… um stomach!) with the exception of a bad night outside Durban some days later. We were all freezing... which helped to keep us alert!Once we had rounded Cape Point (6h into the journey) the strong SW winds, supported by SW 5m swells (at times increasing to about 6m) really supported us and we felt like we were flying through/over the water! We made great speed for the first 3 days, with a speed challenge set up as we surfed down those swells; occasional 50-knot gusts helped us to peak at 15knots boat speed (Ronnie won the competition).

Note: when you are totally new at this sailing thing and the twice-daily VHF weather report warns of gale force winds (defined as 35 knots) you tend to quake; apparently when you are old-hand you also hear this and quake and would not leave your sheltered harbour if you had brains and the choice. However, we were out in it and have learned that it is the wind combined with the sea state which is important: in our case the swells were not opposing us or the wind and hence the ride, while thrilling and exhilarating, was not dangerous while taken with care. We were delighted to receive calls from Mark telling us about lots of people following our progress (on our Google Earth blog, which Irene updated 3 times daily) and complimentary text messages / quick e-mails from those following our progress saying things like “…Smokin’!”

So how did this experience feel? Well … massively and absolutely new!! Overload…! Like so …
Our new fifth crew member, the autopilot (AP) was amazing and held course in most of those huge conditions so the watch was greatly eased by usually not having to hand-steer. This meant you could briefly leave your station to visit the heads / make coffee / take a photo and of course it was less exhausting. Having said that, simply being on watch WAS exhausting for us (well, for Irene) as specks of light on the horizon or radar screen pose a threat to an already-taxed adrenaline-producing system, your senses are so heightened and all the sounds and scenes are radically different from any previously experienced.

During day-time watches others are generally around and give you company (although of necessity one must catch up on sleep during the day to prepare for the next night/catch up on the previous) while your company on night watches is a black-and-white panorama of pinprick stars on a pitch canvas, supported on an ever-rolling, broiling black sea. This latter appears so different from its day-time appearance: during the day one has the benefit of light to develop the 3-D picture while the black sea appears flat at night, the shape and movement appearing from an incessant moving brilliant white froth accompanying it and changing shape and form constantly. The swish and rumble of this froth alongside, sometimes moving ahead of the helmsman and sometimes falling back, is mesmerising: particularly so when the brilliance of the white is heightened by phosphorescence.

New noises. My word, these are indescribable. The noises of the sea in which you are a speck: swishing is lovely, soothing; the other sea noises can be big and unnerving if you let them. Then there are the disembodied voices over the VHF radio: other sailors calling to each other, the regular 12:15 and 18:15 weather update calling “All ships, all ships…” But particularly… yacht noises. Thank heavens we were not exposed to these at first on our own, because the noises on board a yacht making headway in heavy seas are alarming in the extreme. Crashing, banging, knocking, grinding, creaking and groaning first come to mind, of a decibel level such that you cannot think and I feared we were about to break up! But no, these are usual. In fact, apparently Ketoro is relatively quiet when it comes to bridge-slap: in catamarans, water accelerates between the hulls and hits the bottom of the bridge-deck at speed, with a deeply but sharply resounding bang. Due to our high bridge-deck clearance, we have much less of this than some other yachts (thank heavens!!! Enough to cope with anyway…)

There are also the heart-stopping noises of alarms. Alarms are good: they inform you when things are not quite as they should be and thus enable you to take control of the situation. When you are in your cabin at 2 am (exhausted, just off watch) and you hear what you assume to be the auto-pilot alarm you know that Rolf (on watch) will over-ride it, take the helm, get back on track and re-set AP. When the alarm continues to ring you reprimand yourself to stop panicking but rush to check that he is not overboard anyway. On seeing him in the cockpit your heart is soothed, but wait: the alarm is still going…. and in fact, it is the bilge pump alarm (which sounds to inform you there is water in the bilges, which it then pumps out and the alarm stops). You retire to bed with the sounds of the three guys attending to the problem of this non-stop alarm, assuring yourself with the calm rationale of a sleep-deprived inexperienced sailor that the yacht is not going to sink and all will be well. Which it was. But sleep hid away anyway and so it is coffee in the galley with the others and many bleary eyes.

The best noises of all are hearing a whale while you are in your cabin and those of sailing in a calm sea with fair winds. This passage generally kept the latter from us, with the exception of some hours on two later days; we were instead given the heavy-sea-weather boat noises and … engine sounds. Now maybe boys love the throbbing and thrumming of motors, but this is a sailing yacht, for heaven’s sake! Nonetheless, it appears that one uses ones motors often… and in fact, thank heavens for them in big seas (to push us through and support the sails), also times with no wind, docking and facilitating your path round the numerous huge ships near big harbours. It seems, however, that engines need attention.

Certainly, both of ours did. As a result of which, we had boys upside-down in the engine bays often, no matter how rocking the sea, pumping out and replacing gear-box oil and keeping the samples for the technical guys (read: bedding strewn all over the boat, no place looking or feeling like a home in the old context of the word, diesel and oil-finger-smears on everything, diesel-smells at home. More sea-sick pills.) Enough of that.

After the hectic Cape seas and weather we were treated to The Dream off the Transkei.

Perfect weather, sufficient wind to sail by our code zero (colourful asymmetric spinnaker), spectacular coastline (which we saw from close up as one keeps in-shore of the Agulhas current throughout the trip, where possible), crystal sea and dolphins surfing, dolphins playing in our bows, whales breaching and blowing, birds gliding, diving and fishing.
This was heaven… but it was soon (as predicted by the remarkably accurate weather forecasters) replaced by our worst sailing when we received strong winds on the nose (not good for cats!) accompanied by fairly large lumpy seas against us. AP was unreliable in these conditions so we had to hand-helm: a very exhausting experience, so watches were reduced to 2 hours and when on deck it was foul-weather gear, lifejackets, harnesses. In these conditions (extreme noise, banging, howling and wild boat movement) we also had to deal with getting round all the huge ships around Durban harbour in the dark. It is a good thing that we have now experienced a situation in which 5 hours of sailing takes you no further than 2nm further on your journey (in many cases tacking around the ships caused us to lose ground) as we would not have believed it possible! The highlight of this time was a wonderful call from Barry telling us that he and Kay had become engaged!

It was with relief that we felt these awful weather conditions changing just before midnight, bringing us up to our last day and Rolf’s birthday on wonderful sailing seas with more whales and dolphins gracing the shores of northern Natal. The contrast of the experiences the night before with our champagne-charged full English breakfast round the table in celebration (AP on helm) was enormous.

This was followed by birthday “cake” (bowls of ice-cream and nuts with generous splashes of Captain Morgan) and a happy peaceful entry into Richards Bay harbour. We are convinced that this yacht sailing in under her beautiful Code Zero was the picture of peace… as it surely was, but gave no telling of the experiences that had gone before to get us to this point!

So we are ensconced on the wall at Zululand Yacht Club for a week while we get some repairs done, take stock, re-provision, re-arrange lockers … and recover! We are completely exhausted and enjoying the peace, still waters and twittering weavers building their nests alongside our berth. We are enjoying visits from Mark and Livi and the Durban in-laws and cousins. This has been a physical and emotional roller-coaster but has prepared us well for the next step up to Mozambique then Madagascar.

Watch this space, and follow us on Google Earth (access from the link at the top of the column on the right), which we will try to update as often as possible. If the place mark does not move, assume that we are visiting land, or anchored for a breather, or cannot get the sat phone to work, or we are getting no time to do it… but above all assume that we are enjoying realising this dream.

At home on the water

At last we are living in our new home! Here is Ketoro at Cape Town’s Royal Cape Yacht Club (having spent several weeks at Elliott Basin nearby). We have been living in this home for a week and what follows is a quick picture-narrative of it all:

In the yacht basin, we are fairly protected from the big swells but still can experience a lot of wind, which howls with high pitch through the rigging around us. On this morning, however, it was magnificently calm and still, as viewed from the starboard hull amidships’ port light (window!).

The next view, from the cockpit area (back of the yacht), shows that the small-craft harbour is still integrated with other working parts of the harbour, and it is wonderful to watch huge container ships being assisted in and out by tugs, while fishing boats go about their morning and evening business.


The following photos give you an idea of what home looks like inside…. And it is really comfy!!

You will notice (below) that the galley comes complete with mess and kitchen hand! Irene (further down) is shown on the phone at the nav station…. Probably asking someone for help as to the use for all the switches behind her! When you come and stay, please remember to switch on the appropriate ones when you want to, say, use the loo or the shower….

The aft cabins are shown here (ours in earth colours) and there is another forward cabin in the port side (guest hull), with the guest heads shown. In case you wondered, the extra rail in the shower is a grab-rail….

We have put massive effort into getting Ketoro ready to sail, and somehow managed to stow about 7 trailer-loads of stuff into all nooks and crannies we could find (and also the lockers provided.) We have provided foodstuff for between 3 and 6 months, learning as we went what to get and how to store it. So for example, we have limited fridge and freezer space so discovered that waxed cheese rounds will keep for ages until cut. The accompanying photo shows several kilo-sized cheese rounds wrapped in muslin, labeled and stored in foil containers in one of the bilges in the starboard hull (held snugly in place by plumbing and our shower drain pump). Bilges are close to the water hence a bit cooler for storage…. And if water gets in the bilge pumps automatically sort that out.

Some of the food storage lockers in the starboard hull are shown here; each shelf classified by type of foodstuff and the quantities and storage location detailed on a spreadsheet, along with the location of the extra stock (mostly in the bilges in the port hull or in locker s under the saloon seating, where that is not taken up by batteries, inverter or aircon unit). The spreadsheets require that note is made every time a product is used; this will make it easier to keep track of stocks and the need to replenish…. Not to mention obviating the need to scramble round and dig into all the storage locations trying to count what is left over! All tins were labeled in permanent marker on their lids in case the labels came off, and we vacuum-packed a lot of the foodstuff into smaller packages for convenience of storage and to minimize the deterioration factor when the bags are opened.

So we think we are almost ready to go. Of course there is still lots to do, but some can be done on passage…. Even though we are certainly not expecting much of the trip to be as calm and gentle as seen in this photo of a jaunt out with Mark and Livi recently!

Depending on the weather, we may have to motor (either if there is no wind or winds too strong so we drop the sails and use the motors to punch through the sea) but we really do want to sail … and hope to get our code zero up (asymmetric spinnaker-type sail) …. Keep your fingers crossed!!

Launch Day

Oh wow, it has finally happened!!

Ketoro is in the water at last, and WHAT a fun day it was! We set off from the factory with huge smiles on our faces, hazards flashing and towards the back end of a sandwich of 2 traffic police vehicles (with all the dee-dahs, flashes and razzmatazz they could think of), 2 black 4x4s (both Admiral boat-builders: they seem to have a uniform…!) and the trailer with LE BOAT overflowing its edges.


Most sections of the road were single carriageway and the yacht filled the road so oncoming traffic had to pull over and stop, while there were huge back-ups behind us (travelling at 50kph…. many frustrated commuters, we are sure!).

As we drove the low front descended upon Cape Town and the wind picked up, making the hearts flutter somewhat! There was low, threatening cloud but the rain held off obligingly.

We got to the Yacht Club 90 minutes later and the boat was strapped up, hoisted, turned in the air and placed in the water in what was an exciting but very efficient process.





We were delighted to have the support of friends and family in Cape Town who gave of their time to be with us (and the support of SO many who phoned, sms-ed, and we know just thought of us at that time….THANK YOU!).

All this time we were drinking champagne, having decided that it would be ridiculous to wait till we were actually on the boat …. but then we continued the toasts as we showed the guests around our new home… and got them to sign the visitors’ book! Finally, we moved on (for that, read: we were kicked off our boat as they had to continue working on it, and the mast and rigging was put up...) to lunch at the yacht club, which was very festive.

Cape Town did not present us with the best weather conditions for the launch, but she saved the really bad wind and rain for later in the afternoon, when our yacht was already safely on the water and not subject to slippery roads or wildly-swinging cranes.

So Ketoro is now where she should be, on the water, but we are not yet calling her home: however, if you click the link (in the panel on the right… you need Google earth) you will see that our place-mark is now where the boat is, not where we are; soon those will be in the same place!

Hopefully the elements don’t test her too sorely in the next few days…. or maybe they should, so the builders can do a full assessment before they hand her over to us sometime next week!