The Experience of Chagos

Imagine this: the world around you shows water to the horizon. It is gently rolling, calm and deep blue, the light blue sky above the horizon dotted with a few pristine white clouds. Then the eastern horizon gets a fringe. As you approach, the extent of this fringe becomes apparent: it stretches in a long line in front of you. The binoculars show long, low islands, covered with extensive coconut forests. Approaching the designated pass on this western side, anxiety balls in your stomach as you see all the breaking water: along the whole stretch of islands is reef which will destroy your boat in minutes. However, the Raymarine chart-plotter / Navionics chart is accurate and you get through safely.

The beauty is astounding. Around you the water turns from deep blue to lighter sapphire to aqua and the brightest turquoise, then back again as you move into greater depths. You are in an atoll: in this case, Peros Banhos Atoll of the Chagos archipelago. If you had a bird’s eye view of the atoll, you would see a chain approximately 15-miles in diameter; the reef (the chain), a green/brown thread in the aqua waters, is almost continuous, bar a few passes and is bejewelled with long, slim green coconut islands circled by narrow sparkling white beaches and sand spits.
How can you get here? Well, the only way is to sail: the Chagos archipelago, apart from Diego Garcia which is a naval base, is uninhabited and provides none of the usual tourist means of access. Our sail from the Seychelles was glorious: for the first time, consistent currents and winds in our favour so the sails worked hard and the motors less than usual! With no pirate worries after the first 2 days, within a week we were at the islands, having experienced little in the way of bad weather besides a few squalls typical to the area…. but these come up really quickly and one needs to be prepared to put in reefs or drop the mainsail to deal with the winds which, in our experience this time, did not reach more than 30 knots. The worst part is dealing with the grumpy, lumpy seas afterwards (and the grumpy engineer husband who cannot believe that he can’t find a way to control our motion in these waters)!

We had obtained a permit from BIOT (British Indian Ocean Territories) for a month in Chagos. This allowed us to anchor in certain designated areas and in addition laid down many rules, accompanied by the threat of (massive!) fines for lack of acquiescence: no anchoring outside the designated areas / no scuba diving / no spear fishing / no keeping or cutting coral or plants / no catching coconut crabs, etc.

So we sailed south and put our anchor down at Ile du Coin. First jobs: Irene went off to check on the set of the anchor (snorkelling) and Rolf sat on the bottom of the sugar scoop to prepare the fish (mullet… i.e white fish - yay!) caught in the pass. This provided Irene with some thrilling moments. As she returned to the boat (anchor was fine…. we love our over-sized Rocna anchor!), she was delighted to see great numbers of large fish in agitated movement at the port side. Her delight was decidedly tempered by the arrival of a black-tip reef shark… which was rather more determined than agitated. Her delight completely dissipated when she realised that the food source for the feeding frenzy was coming off the boat: essentially, Rolf was chumming the water, with her in it!! Chagos lesson #1: do not clean your fish off the back of your boat, unless you are trying to summon the sharks.

Above the Chagos waterline are beautiful small islands; many are out of bounds and we explored about 10 of those allowed. Very dense in the interior with coconut palms, layers of huge fallen fronds and coconuts (rotting) and incredible numbers of hermit crabs (tiny to pretty large and of a great variety of colours) to pick your way through, they are very interestingly different from other forests and provide a cool (albeit exceptionally humid) high canopy under which to make your sweaty way forward and look out for the small areas of hardwood trees, odd fruit trees and huge coconut crabs which occur in large numbers on the islands. The small beaches (generally covered at high tide) have soft, white sand and are great to explore as the tides bring in coral and shells (not allowed to collect), as well as interesting things to scavenge: Rolf was like a happy boy playing in a junk yard when he salvaged endless floats, hooks and pieces of line for Ketoro.
The sea also washes up FADs: Fish Aggregating Devices, these float at sea with nets or logs underneath which attract small fish which in turn attract bigger fish; at the surface is a big sealed electronic device which transmits its position to the owner but sometimes the electronic parts get new owners when stripped out by yachties who find the FADs washed ashore (they also contain a large number of D-cell batteries). We were given a great show when we came upon 7 small sharks that had trapped a bait ball of small fish in a corner of a tiny island with its reef; when the sharks were satiated and more listless with their hunting the trevallys and other predator fish moved in; the red-foot boobys nesting in the tree above watched.
Ile du Coin is the biggest of the islands in Peros Banhos and was the centre of the copra industry that thrived here for about a century (see Chagos history at the end of this blog). The original plantation buildings, complete with homes, small jail, church/school, cemetery and water well are derelict and moss-covered but provide a fascinating picture of what it might have been like: the original home of the manager of the plantation huge and stately, all buildings with massive walls and with roofs falling in; the jail with its 4 doors still holding strong but roofs again clearly a weak point! Some of the railway is still evident, as are the railway trolley-cars, and the pier's remains tell their own story.

The other left-over is the donkey: donkeys were originally used for various functions at the copra processing plant and there is one survivor (a few generations on). A very healthy male, it is surely nonetheless lonely and honks (hee-haws!) at visitors to the island; we thought it a shame that BIOT have not made an attempt to give him company (human even), perhaps by moving him to Diego Garcia to be amongst equals on the US military base there?!

We found a wonderful community of yachties. At no stage were there more than 9 yachts in this atoll, usually less than 5 at a particular anchorage, but the other sailors were welcoming and friendly, leading to many evenings of sundowners on a boat, group walks (and beachcombing!), dinghy excursions together to distant snorkel areas, and in our case invaluable help from the others who have spent many seasons in the areas to which we are heading. A great friendship was established in this short time with a couple who became mentors to us.

What about underneath the Chagos waterline? Well…. my, oh my…. WOW. With no human pollution or disturbance and no commercial fishing (except for illegal Sri Lankan fishing boats occasionally) the reefs and waters of Chagos have developed for many decades just as nature intended. The corals are truly amazing: soft and hard corals, massive, healthy and of huge variety of type and colour, they grow alongside and on top of each other from near the beach out to the drop-off, where the resultant complex 3-dimensional gardens have the most fascinating topography. With and around this the many fish (small, large, colourful, camouflaged, fish-shaped and exceedingly oddly-shaped) swim, play, eat, clean each other, catch others or hide from their predators in a world totally intriguing to us. We were sorry not to be able to scuba dive but the snorkelling was so wonderful that we did not really miss it: and our breath-holding improved enormously as we dived down to investigate what was hiding under the huge plate corals or in the holes and caves. (Unsure why diving is disallowed, we assume it is because, as with spear-fishing, there is increased potential for accidents and health problems which clearly are hugely problematic in this remote place…. and would necessitate assistance from the navy at Diego Garcia, which is why we signed our bank accounts over to them when applying for our permits to Chagos!)

Also under the Chagos waterline…. sharks. Reef sharks, mostly black-tip, some white-tip, some grey, are prolific but each seems to have its own reefs/areas that it prowls constantly. And every area has at least one shark. So wherever and whenever you go to explore the reef, you will encounter sharks (we saw sharks on every outing except one). Reef sharks are not aggressive to humans (apparently) but they are very curious and circle a few times as they check you out. But you know what? They are sharks… and one is very respectful of these incredible beasts! You don’t want to be too far from your dinghy when a shark is curious so….. Chagos lesson#2: pull your dinghy with you when snorkelling. On one occasion Irene waited longer than Rolf to end her swim and turned to see a shark, more aggressively curious than he should have been, approaching at speed, not more than 2 metres away (he was probably intending to bump and move off???) Getting into an inflatable from in the water is not an easy process and is generally not achieved briskly or graciously. The speed of Irene’s exit from the water on this occasion is something of which to be extremely proud. Her grace and dignity, however, reached new lows as she found herself at the bottom of the dinghy, spluttering, fins entangled with snorkel somehow. Rolf, having seen this coming before Irene did, was standing in the dinghy and beating down on the water with our trusty hard plastic baton (Irene’s knight in shining armour; however, this was an encouragingly improved reaction from him as he is usually expected to be seen laughing uproariously on such occasions). We developed our own Chagos rule #3: two people plus dinghy present a united front worthy opponent to a shark; emitting low-pitched growls appears to deter them and finally with baton on nose they will be further discouraged and pick on a less confusing target!

Then again, under the waterline.... lunch! Trying to avoid the tinned beans, we are still living off the land (as it were) and catching fish for the pan. Tried to catch fish from Ketoro and lost 2 lures at speed (“what happened there?” expressions on our faces) then pulled in a ... black-tip!! Oh my: newbies to sailing, newbies to fishing, newbies to shark-handling... Happily, at this stage another sailor came up to us in his dinghy; a single-handed sailor for the last 24 years, this man is clearly not a newbie and proceeded to do dental surgery on the shark (from his dinghy) to get the hook out; we were delighted and the shark apparently so too, swimming off at speed with most of his teeth and gum intact: no metal fillings! We have had some success with catching squid off the boat and are becoming adept at not allowing these angry meals-to-be to shoot their black ink all over us / the boat / the dinghy. It is no mean feat to turn these guys into restaurant-style calamari rings…

Having mentioned to another yachtie how generally unsuccessful we are at catching fish (other than sharks, apparently, and tuna, which are stupid enough to catch themselves), he took us out on his dinghy to show us how it is done. Rod each. First line taken: Irene fought (wo)manfully with this huge thing that felt, half-way through, as if it had got a lot heavier and immeasurably stronger .... she successfully pulled in half a huge Trevally, with the shark (other half in belly) still attached to the fish and another 3 circling fast and close (picture: we rocking and rolling in tiny dinghy); the shark had to be discouraged with the back of the gaff after which he tried to jump in the dinghy (he knew where to get the rest of his supper)! All too exciting really, from then on we were all slipping around in the bloody water at bottom of dinghy and trying not to fall out. Seriously trying not to fall out.

Settled the nerves etc then off again; Rolf's line taken, shark on end, shark won and kept the lure. Rolf's next lure taken again and he pulled in a whole, non-sampled Trevally ... many suppers with one-and-a-half trevallys!

Above and below the waterline: turtles and dolphins. In abundance. On one occasion our dinghy was joined by a pod of dolphin that came from all sides to swim and play in our bow-wave. With 10 at any one time having fun, we could not stop, so drove up and down many times, accompanied by these giant glistening bodies shooting past and up and in front of us: seemingly smiling! Well, we were too, and particularly when we stopped and hopped into the water with our snorkel gear to swim with them, finding there were at least 30 in his pod, circling below and around us. A treat of a lifetime.

Chagos sounds like all fun-and-games. Well, it is, really; except sometimes the fun is tempered by anxiety brought about by your isolation and exposure to Mother Nature and her powers. Even within the atoll we had massive storms: some led to threatening situations on anchor, on a lee shore with gale-force winds (anchor watch all night, finger poised over the throttle switch: tense times; several yachts have become damaged in this archipelago) and some were experienced just in transit between anchor spots a few miles apart (F9 winds inside the atoll: testing).

When in Chagos, your daily activities are particularly intertwined with the environment and this experience has reminded us to appreciate our planet’s cycles and the impact we can have. Our memories of the Chagos archipelago are awesome.

Summarised Chagos history: (we apologise if there are inaccuracies in this history, but hope that it gives a picture of the background, political machinations and subsequent miseries that dictated the lives of those on Chagos). Initially visited by Portuguese explorers in 1743, the Chagos islands were subsequently claimed by France a few years later. France leased the islands to two Frenchmen who established Copra plantations and a small fishing industry – exporting mainly to Mauritius. Workers were mainly slaves. Around 1810 – 1815 subsequent to the defeat of Napoleon, Britain took over Mauritius and Chagos from France.

Britain appeared to honour the lease of Chagos and in 1834, with the abolition of slavery, the workers were freed of slave status and became contract workers for wages. The leases and concessions appear to have passed hands and in 1883 the copra oil interests on Peros Banhos and Diego Garcia merged into a private company which recruited labour from Mauritius, Madagascar and Mozambique.

By 1945 the British military presence was withdrawn, about 60% of the population had been born on the islands and in the late 1950’s the company was purchased by a Seychelles group with the result that many islanders left for Mauritius and were replaced by workers from Seychelles. The copra plantations struggled financially and some islands were abandoned. In 1965 the British Indian Ocean Territory (BIOT) was created by Britain to provide sites for joint US / UK military facilities. Initially the BIOT comprised of transfers from Britain’s crown colonies: Chagos Archipelago (from Mauritius) and Aldabra, Desroches and Farquhar island groups (from Seychelles). Britain bought out the private contractual rights of the Seychelles commercial interests in 1967 and started evacuating the residents (about 500 workers and their families) on grounds that they were simply temporary contract workers. Evacuations – mainly to Mauritius - were completed by 1973 and in 1971 the US military started building on Diego Garcia. At present the sole remaining component of BIOT is the Chagos Archipelago which is uninhabited by civilians and with Diego Garcia occupied only by US military personnel and a small number of UK military personnel.

Britain evidently paid compensation to the various interests involved and also paid a grant to Mauritius to assist with re-settlement of the evacuees. However, the resettlement appears to have been largely unsuccessful, with the re-settled Chagos ex-residents living in poverty, and litigation against Britain commenced almost thirty years ago. Recent news suggests that the British High Court has found in favour of the former inhabitants of Chagos and negotiations are underway on how the matter is to proceed.

Fishing

I am not a fisherman! Despite a normal upbringing involving the usual blood sports my upbringing somehow omitted anything more than a passing acquaintance with fishing. Little did I realize the void this left in my skill set.

When we were planning our life afloat the firm policy statement from the officer in command of all matters in which she knows best, was that due to limited refrigeration and the burden already placed on this by my daily beer ration, protein would be provided by a serving of beans unless there was freshly caught fish available!

I was pained by my crew’s assessment of my ability when I discovered the ships library swelled by several recipe books including the arresting titles “The Bean Book” the equally enticing “Rice, Beans and Grains… Great-tasting recipes for better health” and the quite irresistible “Winning Ways to Better Beans”. And not a single reference, not even a scrap torn from a magazine, about fish as a food source!

My humiliation was complete when I further discovered the quantity of beans and bean lookalikes that we were carrying on board: butter beans, red kidney beans, white kidney beans, soya beans, bortolli beans, baked beans, green beans and of course lentils. Lots and lots - green and brown and red – naturally all rewardingly rich in protein. All in vast quantities. If all these beans were served to the inhabitants of a medium sized town in a single glorious feast, the result could change global wind patterns forever.

I therefore resolved to become a fisherman and remedy the glaring deficiency in my upbringing. Thereafter at social gatherings I would raise the topic of fishing and then listen avidly to the wisdom, fueled by beer that would flow from the experienced adherents of this pastime.

My confidence and credibility reached a low when I confessed that I had caught only one fish in my life and that was a Barbel, in Rhodesia, (yes, long ago) and a friend who knows about such things quietly explained that in fishing circles this modest feat did not really count and rather placed me beneath the level at which the cognoscenti would even bother to dispense advice.

A vague idea and the wisdom contained in the ‘Idiots Guide to Yachting’ had informed my quest for a life afloat, so I thought a similar approach to fishing would be appropriate. In fact I was much better prepared as my slim compendium on fishing was richly supplemented by the insights newly gained by standing around the braai drinking beer. Thus armed, I planned a trip to the local fishing outfitters.

The result of this little outing was predictable and inevitable. Did you know that the record for retail spend on any sport does not go to Formula 1 racing, nor to golf; but is consistently won by ‘angling and sport fishing’? The absolute minimum outfit evidently comprises three rods, two reels: one medium heavy rig for trolling and a lighter coffee grinder with two rods for trolling, casting and jigging. In addition was a mountain of jet poppers, rooster poppas, zulu rigs, pulsator lures, bibless minnows, sorcerers, trolling lures, metal baits, birds, bucktail jigs, daisy chains, swivels, hooks, sinkers, spare nylon, spare braid, nylon trace, steel trace – you name it I got it - and the biggest bloody gaff in the shop (this was for lunch, not sport!)

If the shop assistants and the marketing gurus only knew how misguided their efforts are – the most successful sales pitch to me was the helpful little printed ‘how to’ instructions on the packaging. Thus by surreptitiously reading the blurb on the package of some lures, I discovered the art of ‘vertical jigging’. Similarly, my choice of leader and trace wire was guided by those that had helpful little diagrams of suitable knots printed on the packaging. The basis on which hook sizes are categorized however remains a mystery and my choice was informed by comparing a selection of hooks with the mouths of suitably sized stuffed and mounted fish specimens that adorned the shop. I was subsequently to discover that fish are very ambitious.

I also subsequently discovered that one of the most successful and economical fishing rigs is my ‘lunch line’ for the seriously hungry – a merciless monster made up of 50 metres of massive 200 kg breaking strain nylon, tied securely to a cleat on the yacht with a length of spear gun rubber (to absorb some of the shock), which tows a delicious looking pink plastic squid that disguises a great big double hook. The head of the unlucky fish that takes a bite of that, always changes direction: 15 tons of boat moving at 7 knots makes for a powerful rod and reel. To date the bodies of the catches have remained attached to the heads and we have discovered the drowned fish before the sharks do – but just imagine: no fighting the fish, no hard grinding away on the reel, no strain on the shoulders, no lower back pain, no worrying about whether the hook is set properly – you simply hand wind in the defeated fish and prepare lunch!

The normal setup while underway when there is the general threat of beans instead of food, is to deploy the ‘lunch line’ with its deadly plastic squid (depth depending on where the lead weight has moved to); a surface popper / trolling lure on the light rod / reel; and a scientifically designed lure that is guaranteed to dive and remain at the precise depth stipulated on the package, on the heavy rod / reel. Notwithstanding that not a single one of these lures looks even remotely like a little fish or anything else that our target fish might eat, we are assured that each of these lures is cunningly designed and virtually guarantees success for a specific fish species and fishing conditions.

Invariably on sailing through a shoal (say of tuna), every one of these lures successfully hooks a tuna more or less simultaneously! Fish appear to eat anything and everything when they are hungry and conversely, ignore any offering when not on the bite. I suspect fish are stupid. That fishermen spend vast sums pursuing the ultimate fishing lures and debating at length their subtle nuances, is therefore very troubling.

Having hooked and landed a beast brings us to the part of fishing that did not feature around the braai nor on the product packaging – cleaning and preparing the fish. Our haul in the first few months comprised fish that were quite amenable and user-friendly, particularly in that none of them had more than a handful of scales and all were fairly clean. However, recently as we sailed through the pass into an atoll in Chagos we hooked one of the mullet species (I think) and were perturbed to find this guy exuding lots of disagreeably slimy stuff and also having a skinful of scales! I beheaded and gutted the fellow and threw the bits overboard while still in open water, but it was only once we were anchored within the lagoon that I finished the job – scaling and filleting, and tossing the small bits and the skeleton overboard. Irene had in the meantime donned mask and fins and was in the water checking the anchor and the surrounding rock outcrops. We thus discovered another and by far the most successful fishing technique - chumming the water and adding a live bait – within seconds shoals of very large, feeding fish and several sharks were around the boat! Energetic walking on water accompanied by some very unbiblical commentary had our bait safely back on board.

Now that we are anchored in the atoll and therefore not underway, catching fish by the simple expedient of trailing some lures is no longer available and the prospect of beans looms large. The obvious solution according to fishermen is to bounce around for hours in an unstable dinghy, hopefully poised over a submerged outcrop or pinnacle or perhaps a drop-off or a sand bar over which the tidal waters bring nutrients – and patiently ‘jig’ a lure up and down. After half an hour of this mindlessness with even the lightest rod, your arms go lame. As a pleasant diversion you can cast a suitable lure into a likely spot or at some fish you have spotted!

Clearly other yachties also had deficient upbringing as they find no joy in this pastime and therefore devised a more inspired technique. This involves tying the favored ‘lunch line’ securely to the dinghy (usually a little rubber duck with an inadequate two stroke outboard engine) and driving the lot out through the protective reef into the open ocean – where the user friendly pelagic fish are. The dinghy is then whipped up to planing speed and fishing again proceeds by simply trolling a lure behind a moving boat, as befits a yachtie and a gentleman. A danger of course is that the hooked fish is not dominated by the little dinghy and its laboring outboard motor or that the chaos of stopping the boat and bringing in the fish does not occur quickly enough to beat the shark that is attracted by the distressed fish – the image of successively larger and larger fish attaching themselves to the fishing rig does keep me awake at night. It is also possible that the ocean waves being unkind and / or the chaos of trying to land the feisty creature and / or the prickly fellow puncturing the inflatable boat, result in the little vessel being swamped and disappearing entirely.

In my previous life on land Irene on occasion (obviously only rarely and when circumstances warranted!) treated me to a withering look that says ‘you are a pitiful worm’. Now that we share precious moments that are filled with panic and frenzied activity, I get a heated look that says ‘you are a complete jackass’. I find this to be a strangely rewarding elevation in status.

In the manner of many desk-bound bureaucrats, the authorities governing Chagos have decreed that scuba diving is undesirable and is banned outright. Therefore in order to explore the truly wonderful and fantastic underwater world here, you snorkel / free dive and therefore spend time at the surface – which is where sharks generally feed. On every dive thus far we have been checked over by at least one black tip reef shark, who circles us a couple of times before meandering off to a distance where we can keep an eye on each other. At the Ille Fouquet anchorage about three miles away, there is a mob of black tip sharks and several grey sharks that are quite aggressive – reflexively snapping at anything that hits the water from a yacht and also close-circling and crowding swimmers. I have it on good authority from my crew, who recently became an expert in the matter when she earned the endearing nickname “Sharkbait”, that there is insufficient evidence of territorial behaviour by sharks to dispel the notion that these chaps could wander over to us for a visit, particularly as the yachts have departed the Ille Fouquet anchorage and left them with nothing to snap at.

We therefore have taken to diving with the dinghy in tow and brandishing our police batons / nightsticks with the intention of poking sharks on the nose if they get too inquisitive and at the first sign of an agitated shark, abandon dignity and retain limbs by hopping aboard the dinghy. My preferred weapon is of course my trusty axe but I suspect the psychological impact on a shark of seeing ‘crazed fool wielding axe’ would not be quite the same as it might be on terrestrial baddies. When on a seaworthy boat and armed with stout rod and reel, I have a reasonable negotiating position but when both players are in the water it appears the food chain can become a little tangled.

So far we have thankfully dodged all the sharks and much of the stock of beans and I am ever hopeful that corrosion will soon attack the remaining cans at least as much as it attacks every other part of the boat. Nevertheless, my skill set remains challenged as I have clearly not embraced the essential principles and passions of a fisherman. However, fish appear to obligingly commit themselves to the cause when needed and we are delighted with that happy outcome.

Leaving Seychelles; preparing for 7 weeks isolation

The Seychelles phase of our journey is ending – and with very mixed emotions: sadness in the goodbye to beautiful islands with friendly, welcoming, colourful people; delight that we were privileged enough to experience the islands in this way; some anxiety and trepidation for the next ocean passage, and expectations of unique experiences the passage and the destination is certain to give us.

In the next few days we will leave on a passage of 1050 nautical miles to the Chagos islands, almost due east of the Seychelles. Embarking on this voyage will mean leaving this seriously comfortable spot where we are presently berthed: the Wharf Hotel and Marina…. Tied up to a jetty means a still boat, stepping straight off the boat and onto “land”, cell phone coverage, easy access to the internet, unlimited supplies of water and electricity to the yacht (read air-conditioning and long hot showers) …. and the hotel pool! This is the first time in all our sailing that we have had such luxuries, and they will be difficult to leave!
The Chagos Islands are, apart from Diego Garcia (a remote US military installation and out-of-bounds to yachties), uninhabited British islands for which we have obtained a one month visitors’ permit. So, all being well, we will have interesting experiences in Chagos and at the end of March we will leave there to travel the 300 nm north to the southernmost atoll of the Maldives… our first experience of “civilisation" in approximately 7 weeks. And the first time in 7 weeks that we will have access to the internet (apart from satellite-phone based), cell phone coverage and the chance to communicate with friends and family.

The last few weeks saw Irene take a trip to Pretoria, where she felt what it was like to have a stationary surface beneath her feet (no big deal), ridiculous quantities of water for showers (terribly indulgent, but fortunately it was not in the drought-stricken Cape areas), a bed which allowed one to get on / off from either side (tested both sides and NEVER got on / off at the foot end, as in boat-wise… surprising!?) and the easiest shopping trips in the world, surely? Thus she stocked up on 33kg of food and toiletries to take back to the ‘land of no rooibos tea, no provita and too-expensive other commodities’ (the red-queue customs man declined the task of bag-checking when exceptionally long itemised till-slips were thrust in his hand and he was implored to “see for yourself”). The real gift of this trip (from Rolf, who remained on the boat to do innumerable chores) was spending time with family and friends, sorely missed when you (of own volition, admittedly) embark on a two-man sailing adventure. Oh, and it was also great to see progress in all the construction that is still the dominant theme of the Gauteng landscape and to top-up on world and local SA news (although much of the latter had not really moved on since we left the country…. except for the number of children, wives and girlfriends of the leader of the nation!)

Returning to the Seychelles brought, to contrast with the news from SA, the following snippets of local news…. the Seychellois are up in arms because prime properties at the top of the beautiful mountains that make up Mahe, the main island, have been sold to an Arab Sheik for a rupee (about 70 SA cents) each, and he has embarked on a distasteful building project there, thus defacing their natural skyline; the Coast Guard says there have been no piracy problems since December (the Coast Guard operations room shows 7 successful pirate attacks on boats in Oct/Nov last year in their area: scary) and the Rising Sun newspaper has an article claiming that Seychelles has been holding 11 Pirates since December. A UN resolution has been made that after trial they serve sentence in Seychelles … but this land has no appropriate facility so the only jail on the island group needs to be refurbished to accommodate these criminals. In that same paper is a teen page featuring an article informing them of numerous “ways to annoy others by phone or at work” (we kid you not). Perhaps if they become too annoying they should be thrown in the newly-refurbished jail?

The last week in the Seychelles also saw us meeting people who alternate their lives between here and SA; apart from a super meal with them they also shared local knowledge, showing us local plants from which we picked curry leaves and cinnamon leaves and took us to a shop that sells…. Rusks (Bokomo) and Provitas!!! And a whole lot more from SA too (except Rooibos). AARGH!! I did not need to bring all the 33kg!! Generally, shopping in the Seychelles is difficult; the islands are covered by what SA citizens would call “spaza shops”: small, badly merchandised, stocks irregular with a limited and eclectic mix of products. So in our sojourn here it was necessary to trudge from shop to shop to obtain what was needed and there have been times when one could not obtain eggs / coffee / sugar. The present problem? Carrots!! No carrots for 3 weeks… “they are imported from Australia and the container has not arrived”!

Back to the preparations for the imminent departure.

We have purchased: 12 more jerry-cans for extra diesel (will there be wind? Will that be enough fuel?), a total of 840l diesel, 5kg chicken fillets (will we catch fish? Will that be enough protein? AHA! Beans!), appropriate quantities of tinned, bottled, packeted and dried food to keep us going for at least 7 weeks and approximately R1000.00 fresh food that, at inflated prices, will not take us far!

We have also: put non-slip materials on every flat surface in the galley and also non-slip strips on ends of steps on which we have slipped; sealed the targa wing/bimini (i.e. cockpit roof) from end to end (where it was leaking annoyingly) (yep: we have become DIY experts!); serviced the 2 engines and saildrives and the generator (yep: Rolf is an expert mechanic!); repaired / replaced the heart of the water-maker (under warranty fortunately); prepared and bottled a Madagascan mango/carrot/ginger relish and South African curried beans (yep: Irene has become a bottler!); tensioned up the shrouds; checked and cable-tied all the D-shackles; picked out every weevil we could find in every packet of starch and put these (the packets) in the freezer (a week’s freezing apparently will cure the problem); adjusted the winches; got local banana recipes from a friendly taxi driver; made provision for rain-collection off the roof (to save the water-maker and fuel); rigged a storm drogue to deploy from the stern (to slow us down if we are moving too fast / out of control in a storm); rigged the anchors to handle the deep water anchorages in Chagos and Maldives; stowed the croc and scuba gear and sorted the fishing gear (determined to catch / eat something other than tuna!); rigged the spinnaker in anticipation of light wind, down(ish) wind sailing; de-rusted the tools; sharpened the axe and the machete!?!; covered our eggs with Vaseline (prevents mould from getting into them… and from experience mould is not nice. We will also turn the eggs at least twice a week to prevent the yolks from settling to the bottom); washed every item of vegetable and fruit in Milton, dried and either vacuum bagged, sealed or wrapped for (hopefully long-term-no-vrot) storage and placed moth-killer stuff in every cupboard – such a barrage of assorted good fun is hard to resist!

We have not…. been able to put any more than 1 beer, 1 soda and 1 tonic in the fridge as it is solid with food (daily booze rationing!); unpacked the pirate bag as anti-piracy precautions are still necessary to at least 60 deg East (i.e. 300nm east of here). Explanation of pirate bag: on the recommendation of the UK Maritime Safety Organisation, this “grab bag” (that must be ready to pick up-and-go when the pirates take you off your yacht and whisk you away to Somalia) was put together at the start of the Madagascar to Seychelles passage. Pirate bags, as it turns out, play on the emotions. They cause great trepidation during their packing at the start of the journey and great mirth to observers (visiting family) during their unpacking - having reached the destination safely. So ours contained (as advised) suncream, water-purification tablets, sunglasses, hats, mosquito repellant, individual-required meds, multivitamin, toothbrush and paste, diarrhoea meds etc. Jolly sensible stuff, really. But at the end of a long and ribald evening, family can take the mickey out of you and this certainly provided for much hilarity. Particularly when the RESCUE tablets came out!! However, one petite and feminine almost-formally-member of the family took the prize for the night by pointing out the obvious omission “You need a big f…..g GUN!”

Reflecting on the last 13 months (when we started our training) we have become aware that we were real land lubbers getting into this (ad)venture: with no sailing experience before our training, only 78nm on the new yacht’s log when we left CT (and that was earned motoring within Table Bay), everything has been a learning experience… even handling a dinghy! This coming passage will be the first time it is not a “first”: not our first passage, not the first one on our own. However, we still feel like land lubbers at heart – although Rolf has not spent a night on land for over 6 months, the speed with which Irene acclimatised to land-dwelling in SA was telling!

These land lubbers are about to sail away from all signs of land for a while and in fact looking forward to the journey, remembering previous awesome experiences and sights, moments that took our breath away; but we are also aware that this journey, and the whole of the next 7 weeks, will expose us to more “firsts”. Will they be good or bad? Enjoyable or not? Frightening or not? Whilst isolated on passage our main worries will be weather (enough wind, the right direction, not too much wind, a manageable and comfortable sea state), equipment failure, sleep and our health; we hope that these are not the “firsts” that are manifest on the voyage. Strangely, we have not felt fear during a storm as there is no time to dwell; the anxiety is worst when you see the storm coming! However, this will be the first time our destination will be a land with NONE of the usual facilities .… except if in dire need we could probably try to contact the US Navy on Diego Garcia for help (they lease this atoll from Britain).

Seeing non-sailors take off as we have, understandably has people wondering about our sanity. But many of our experiences have been a privilege and there is no other way we could have enjoyed them - and anyway, we still owed ourselves a gap ‘year’ and it sure beats working!

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do.
So throw off the bow lines
Sail away from the safe harbour
Catch the trade winds in your sails
Explore
Dream
Discover

Mark Twain

Experiencing Seychelles resources

The Seychelles: steep-sided granite islands with fascinating runnels in the boulders peculiar to this island group; amazingly and surprisingly covered with dense luxuriant growth (what can support such robust plant-life as a growth medium in those rocks?); fringed by reefs and hence in many cases inaccessible to yachts; beautiful beaches of fine, soft, dense-packed white sand offering perfect photo opportunities for that ubiquitous “white sand, blue sky, boulder and shady tree” picture of the travelogues. The shady trees are generally coconut palms or the local takamaka tree, wide-spreading, with big leaves and an apparent love of sand and salt water!

The extended Seychelles group sits on a plateau only about 40m deep. Thus the seas from outside this plateau are accelerated onto the “bank”, providing potential for challenging waves and currents. Add to this the fact that with so many small islands interrupting the flow one finds odd patterns arising as the sea channeled round the top of an island meets that channeled round the bottom. Then add the fact that the tall islands have impact on the wind patterns which also affect the wave movement… we mention all this to provide background for the news that we have experienced really odd swell/wave motion on many occasions, both while travelling between the islands and when on anchor… the worst being in Port Launay (on Mahe Island)where we recently found ourselves swinging wildly and erratically, no doubt affected by the tide, the general sea motion in the bay, and the wind which has the channel and two gaps between peaks to whistle through. At least we never became bored with our ever-changing view… and the anchor held well, although we were up several times nightly to check!

So here we are, 6 weeks into experiencing this heaven, having just completed a circuit to take a look at some different islands and beaches…. and still learning how to do things! So, for example, take “getting to the beach”. All of our experiences until recently were in calm seas where gaps in the reef were obvious and easily accessible, making it easy to get the dinghy or croc to a gentle grounding.

Then there was the time when Irene needed a haircut. This required identifying (no, not an appropriate salon, but…) a remote, un-peopled beach where Monsieur Rolf could brandish his scissors with aplomb and no fear of covering the boat with hair that would keep turning up for weeks. So, a magnificent quiet beach was found on Felicite Island where we anchored for two days. From the boat, we could see the reef and the on-shore swell but it all looked manageable. Putting our kit and camera into a dry bag, we set off on the yellow inflatable canoe (the croc), paddling with great skill and rhythm towards the beach area, making adequate use of the swell to take us in smoothly. Sounds good….? Well it started that way but ended with us being side-swiped by a wave from the back that tossed Irene out from her aft perch and she rolled in, bouncing on the reef rock (which fortunately, in this area, was smooth and not sharp coral) while Rolf managed to hold himself and the boat in check. After a calming snack and a foray into the coconut palms to plunder our next smoothie-bases, the hair was sufficiently dry and received its styling. The return journey was considered with some trepidation (see photo below) but we walked out over the rock confidently, Irene (in front) holding the nose of the trusty vessel into the waves as Rolf stabilised from the rear. Take #2: Sounds good….? Well it started that way but ended up with Rolf stepping into (and almost disappearing down) a hole in the rock requiring Irene to gallantly power the croc out through the waves from her perch up forward this time… and waiting for Rolf to swim out to where she could hold the boat and not be pushed back to shore! Damage? Mainly dignity and pride on both counts.
The second learning experience was dinghy-based: getting to Anse (Beach) Lazio on Praslin Island necessitated firstly a 45 minute dinghy trip, crossing open sea for part of it (a jaunt to be approached with more caution in future…) then beaching the boat in waves larger than anticipated (fortunately no rocks). While the final outcome of the landing was successful, it says nothing of the almost-overturning that Rolf (after first getting us into it…!) managed to skillfully avoid: the result was that the watching beach-loungers witnessed a slewing boat and water waves over the side, resulting in a drenched Irene. Our time on this beach was spent in the beautiful environment seen below. So plans were laid for the departure and involved using four local young men (swimming at the time) to help us get the dinghy out through the breakers: they just had to hold it firm and pointed into the waves. They appeared to understand, and they appeared resolved. The first wave hit and they all gasped and relinquished their hold! Nonetheless, most of them recovered and we got the boat out (all very drenched this time), Rolf boarded it and motored it hastily out to smoother water… and Irene had to swim out to it (after, let it be said, being the one at the front who had the most firm grip on the boat…!).
Experiences under the water are always rewarding (referring, in this case, to the planned under-water experiences, i.e. snorkelling / diving!). Although the coral has been very disappointing in some areas (compared with some of the SA coral gardens at Sodwana, the Cape and Aliwal: here we have seen enormous tracts of dead, broken coral albeit with some small signs of recovery), we have also seen many areas where the coral is plentiful, healthy and handsome, although there is little in the way of the soft corals. Just swimming off any rocky point takes one to an underwater world with unusual and spectacular topography and general structure, often being a continuation of the boulders under water and hence the “runnels” in the boulders become crevasses decorated with picturesque coral in which the fish feed and flourish. Strangely, even in the dead-coral tracts the fish-life is absolutely awesome, resulting in our seeing new fish every time we venture into their world. Every reef area has large numbers of a huge variety of fish type as well as offering rays, eels, white-tip reef sharks, a school of trumpet fish, giant bump-head parrotfish, sea stars, needle fish, turtles and many of the regular reef fish that grow very large in this environment which (as evidenced by the gunge that grows on the hulls of our boat) is extremely nutritious.

Snorkelling from Ketoro off “Haircut Beach” produced, as well as the usual lovely reef fish, a great sight of 8 spotted eagle rays flying in formation under us, many box-type jellyfish (scary) and a pair of hawksbill turtles. The boat frequently invites a variety of fish seeking shade and food: the butterfly fish in common mooring areas have become accustomed to people and are very large and very bold and …. intimidating!! The photo below looks down on numerous boat-lovers in attendance. One area also has sucker fish (ramoras?) that latch onto the bottom of our hulls and feast on whatever is on offer; unfortunately these fish also strip off a layer of anti-foul paint from the hulls but look too scary so we do not dare get close to them to knock them off!!
To identify other snorkelling or dive spots, we investigate where the day trippers are taken; thus we found our way to Cocos Island, a tiny round boulder island which sees hordes of visitors paying dearly for the trip there. The snorkelling in much of the area is unusual in that the water is no more than a metre deep over stone and rock and the fish are all quite accustomed to the presence of people in their space. Most of the tourists (we have seen mainly German, French and Italian in our time in the Seychelles) wade bare-foot over the rocks, to our horror: we saw a very sinister-looking stonefish (very poisonous) in those same rocks, not 2m from a barefoot visitor.

When there are only two of you on the boat, the opportunities to dive are limited as we must dive as a buddy pair – which leaves the boat unattended at the dive site. However, when we see a commercial dive boat hovering over an area we do all we can to identify the exact spot and recently had an excellent dive from the dinghy (which we are happy to anchor casually and leave unattended). We dropped the anchor in exactly the right place using estimated GPS coordinates and bearings to land references and a portable fish finder to identify the depths. The most notable memory from this dive was a ray (let us repeat: RAY where the capitals indicate extent of our awe for this fellow)… looking like a large mound on the sea bed, Rolf and I simultaneously saw this monster of 3m diameter and more-than a metre tall (deep? thick?) beast with a short stubby tail and eyes the size of saucers. We backed off very quickly and maintained a very respectful distance! Far more unnerving than the various shark encounters, which we think (hope) have been reef sharks and not particularly aggressive. Shark encounters are always tinged with some apprehension, however, as we obviously snorkel above them (not a good place to be as they generally feed upwards, we believe). Just a point: the movies always have the “Jaws” music accompanied by the sight of a fin slicing through the water… we have, in all our sightings, never seen a fin above water but seen plenty at greater depths!

Of course, some of the fish species find their way to peoples’ plates. In our case we seem to be landing only Bonita (a type of tuna) so are becoming creative with our ways of presenting this fish and tolerant of the lack of fish variety in our diet. We have seldom put in a line and not caught anything: these waters are teeming with fish and we are grateful for this resource. A few days ago we left an anchorage at 6:30 am and by 9:30 had 4 Bonita in the freezer or prepared for dinner! The process is not without its potential dangers: whilst underway (visualise the boat rocking and rolling, even though Irene gets the speed down to about 2 knots or slower) Rolf must first secure the fish (lasso round the tail, the non-toothed end), kill it quickly, gut it and cut it up into steaks or fillets while standing on the bottom step of the sugar scoop … not falling off it into the sea nor cutting himself or attaching himself to a hook.

We were awe-struck to see a most magnificent sailfish at the end of our line some time ago; it gave a stunning display of tail-walking on the water before, happily, shaking off our lure and returning to the deep. We did not really want to land one of those magnificent creatures. Some flying fish throw themselves at us and we find them looking (dead and) surprised on deck in the morning. They are bony and scrawny and not to be eaten but make for good viewing as they leave the water at the side of the boat and fly away, looking from behind like little biplanes, and fly often for a few hundred metres, curving and banking before re-entering the sea.

We have recently made full and happy use of another of the Seychelles resources: rain. Our water-maker, bought at a cost of just under $12 000.00 and previously providing 60l per hour of desalinated water, has packed up. Negotiations are underway for repair/replacement of parts (under warranty) but meanwhile we must make do with what we have. Fortune (and not the sun) smiled on us… it rained. It bucketed down in squalls for a number of days … so out came all the buckets we could find and we filled the tank (see below). The process was repeated several times and we kept our tank full with the pure stuff from the sky!
Speaking of on-board resources: the toilets don’t work so well in the early mornings! Strange? Well, they are electric (have a pump and a macerator in the (very narrow) pipe which exits the bowl) and are very voltage-dependant. This is how the power works on the boat: we have a battery bank which at best sits on 13V and 100% capacity. Everything electrical draws from it and, if not charged by our motoring (e.g. if we purely sail or are sitting at anchor) we must charge it with the generator. So we monitor the voltage and capacity most carefully and generally have to run the genset in the late afternoon to charge up the batteries sufficiently to get us through the night (since fridge, freezer, anchor light, fans, toilet circuits all drain the batteries overnight too). It would appear that the toilet motors are very voltage dependant: if the loo is required in the early hours one hears the pump motor straining to clear the flush water, whereas when batteries are full the loos clear with a flourish!

Things of which one is not aware when living on land unless you monitor your consumption very carefully… a small fridge and freezer draw 14 amps (when the compressors are running…. and the more they are opened and closed, the more work the compressors must do), hair dryers simply do not get used as they will fry the batteries (who needs hairdryers anyway!?), the same applies to the microwave unless used on very low wattage setting, while charging notebook computers is also very draining. Hence, to use many of these things it is best to be running the motors/genset or be on shore power! We also have a clothes washer-dryer… an indulgence which has proved to be very useful although we generally only use it when on shore as the rate at which it consumes our two most valuable resources (fuel/power and water) is alarming. Nonetheless, we have found the most economical setting and that gets used occasionally while travelling …. but only when motoring and with the genset on so that the water maker may be run simultaneously!

We have returned to the Wharf Marina near Eden Island and Victoria to enjoy flat seas for sleeping and working, shore power, shore water and the chance to see Mahe on land! Irene is taking the opportunity to return to SA for a visit (friends and family in Pretoria area) and undertake a giant shopping spree for unobtainable or horribly expensive foodstuffs and pharmaceuticals …. in readiness for the next leg, to the uninhabited islands of Chagos.

Christmas in the Seychelles

After all the wonderful looking forward, anticipating Christmas with the family in the Seychelles, we now look back.… on the most amazing, marvelous time of celebration and fun with our family. While the boys thought they had landed in their own “Boys Own Annual” the girls had as much fun from watching their antics as participating in their own.

So, a day in the life of a boy on the water: wake early, pull up anchor, get fishing rods prepared in their stands, munch on a healthy breakfast quickly because you are about to start pulling them in! Gut and fillet the fish (someone else is controlling the boat meanwhile….. normally a girl….!) then sit back and open your first beer: although it is only 9:30am you have done a good days work already! After a bit of sailing, anchor off a pretty beach, swim and eat your fish for lunch, done on the braai (this IS a South African boat!).

Not long thereafter, sail to your final destination, hop in the water and snorkel before sundowners on the foredeck… generally blessed with the most spectacular sunsets. Days may be varied by throwing in a beach walk, paddling the inflatable Croc around the shallows, adding in a scuba dive off a spectacular island, eating your tuna as a steak or fillet or lasagne or fish cakes instead of kebab, for example! Days always ended with boys washing dishes.... their contribution to the galley (as well as providing the protein!)

Meanwhile, how do the girls pass these hours on the boat? Resting and reading in between passing across the necessary fishing support instruments, enjoying the sailing and the odd dolphin, snorkelling, beach-walking, sundowners and passing some incredibly creative hours in the galley (more of that later). All enjoyed the freedom offered by the dinghy and the croc and the fact that you never had to swim far from Ketoro to snorkel in a spectacular marine environment where we saw rays, turtles, giant bull-nose parrot-fish, eels and occasional sharks on top of a plethora of the usual beautiful reef fish. The photos give an idea of the fun we all had.

Soon after the kids all arrived we set about decorating the Christmas tree (a family tradition). Necessity stimulated creative thinking in this regard: Rolf dutifully provided two cardboard bases from beer-cases from which a tree was fashioned, standing in beach sand from our first over-night stop, covered in silver paper and plenty of pretty shells collected in Madagascar and the Seychelles. Christmas lunch was spent at a lovely restaurant overlooking the main beach, Anse Volbert, on Praslin Island and the days thereafter were passed anchored off Praslin, Curieuse and La Digue Islands. The latter provided opportunity to hire bicycles and cycle round the island, a wonderful experience particularly when coming upon a giant tortoise strolling (as tortoises do) towards you on the road! Barry kept his foot away from the tortoise's beak.... but then relented and gave it a stroke. Seychelles has thousands of the these huge, wonderful creatures, who love to have their shells scratched and necks rubbed (Irene being happy to oblige, but standing far from them, with recent wounds inflicted by a Madagascan tortoise fresh in her mind!)

New Year’s Eve was passed in the National Marine Park off Curieuse Island. After a quick beach sundowner among the spectacular granite rocks on the beach, we ate great paella on the boat, bathed by a full moon, supported by much wine, champagne and other liquid refreshment. We (and the yachts around us) had unusual company in the form of two boats: a charter schooner that looked just like Johnny Depp’s pirate boat… and a Seychelles Coast Guard boat. So the start of 2010 was heralded by brilliant red flares (illegal but beautiful!) and of course a midnight swim in the black water. I am still unsure of the reason for the boys’ not requiring costumes for their swim, and even more unsure of their reasons for wanting to shoot the pirate boat (or alternatively the Coast Guard boat) with the paint-ball gun. Fortunately some measure of sanity prevailed and they simply went across to visit the “pirate boat” with a bottle of Vodka and the story that they had wanted to shoot them (or share a drink). The German charter party thought them most amusing, schlurring away on the dinghy but declined to invite them on board! Thank heavens they did not try the Coast Guard boat….

(Note the moon behind us....)

Having the four “children” on board with us for two weeks was an absolute treat. They put up (uncomplainingly) with cramped, wet conditions, heat and humidity, little own space, little own time, sometimes sea sickness, sometimes rolly anchorages, sometimes tense anchoring or berthing procedures; they absolutely embraced the cruising way of life and added a new dimension and perspective to our enjoyment of it all. They helped us wherever they could and the girls particularly were marvelous in the galley, bringing forth culinary masterpieces when all they had to work with was left-overs and some scrawny veg! They need to collaborate on a Cook-Book for yachties!

Good-byes are always terrible and for a couple of days we were left at a loss; for so many months we had looked forward to this experience and it proved to be everything we dreamed of. Now we have exceptional memories and promises of other journeys together.

Before then, we will investigate other islands and try to make the Seychelles our own…. We are finding that as we talk to more people and learn how a place works – where to get stuff, how to deal with local practices and peculiarities, what to take seriously and what to ignore, when and where the good things happen, etc. a feeling of ‘belonging’ quickly develops. After a break of almost 40 years, we have re-discovered the art of hitch-hiking – buses take too long and taxis are too expensive and not nearly as interesting; chance encounters with a broad cross-section of locals, re-living memories of carefree travelling on the back of a truck with sun in your face and wind in your hair and dirt on your clothes! What the Seychellois must think of these two ageing delinquents walking the main roads – with dark tans and Rolf’s scruffy clothes (at least he had a recent haircut at Salon Ketoro), we surely look like a pair of hobos.

Almost all encounters with people in the Seychelles have left us with a feeling of wellbeing and I think this must reflect the general state and mood of this society. (This does not apply to waiters – who without exception are bad at their jobs or grumpy, or both.) We had often heard of people staying many months in the Seychelles and being very sad when finally having to leave; and had wondered at this because surely the finite number of islands and island activities must pale after a while. Perhaps it is the people and the mood of the islands that gets to you.

The reported very high crime (claimed by other yachties) – particularly theft from boats - has not been experienced by us, nor have we heard of incidents while we have been here and this perhaps encourages the feeling of goodwill we currently enjoy.

We had also heard reports of very high prices and this is certainly true, particularly in the tourist restaurants and hotels. Surprisingly, shopping is somewhat ‘third world’ with small shops, each stocking an eclectic mix of goods, scattered throughout town. Provisioning, as in Madagascar, becomes a tiring exercise… getting to town (foot), carrying parcels from shop to shop and returning burdened. Then there is the issue of obtaining certain goods and the quality thereof. A case in point: nowhere can you buy brown or whole-wheat flour for bread, so when I spotted multi-grain bread in a shop I asked to buy some flour from them. When I declined to buy a 25kg bag (all imported from Dubai) they kindly obliged and gave me two 2kg bags. For which I paid 400 rupees (about SA R270). On opening the packets to decant into smaller ones and vacuum-bag, I found they were crawling with weevils. We are about to set off to town AGAIN to return it; hope they are as obliging, but if not, I will have to ask Livi and Kay for their other book, “Ways with Weevils … Protein in a Packet”. The kids all became very aware of the problems of long-term storage when they were here….

The tourist areas themselves are very rustic and under-developed. Rolf had expected at least the main beach on Praslin (the tourist hot spot) to have a Camps Bay or Clifton feel – in fact there is nothing even remotely like this level of development. There is almost no signage visible through the thick foliage to identify the few restaurants and hotels that do exist and pub crawling along this 2km long stretch of beach would lead to certain death by dehydration! However notwithstanding this hazard, the absence of obvious mass tourism has its advantages as property developers and entertainment houses rarely manage to exercise taste or restraint when fleecing the hordes; and the genuine island style that prevails comes as a pleasant surprise.

Looking back and forward: what is normal?

Well, we are two weeks into the Seychelles and it has been an interesting experience again: learning about procedures, how the new places operate, what they have to offer to whom and where.

While every time we get to a new port of entry we learn more about what we are supposed to do to clear in, it is very different in each place and so, mostly, we don’t know what to do… i.e. what to give to whom and where (the when is basically as soon as you come in, assuming it is not a weekend, public holiday or lunch time!) You may have read about our last experience….. dealing with the officials in our pj’s over cereal in the boat! But it is not just official procedures. Where do we shop for what and what is the benchmark price? How do we get around? Which beaches/islands can we visit and put down anchor and what do they offer? Where can we afford to eat, if we choose to eat out?

More importantly… how will we deal with our new circumstances, when will we adjust and when will new circumstances seem normal to us? In an e-mail I told a friend that things were settling down to normal, then followed up by telling her I took advantage of a good rain to put my cossie on and go outside to clean the whole boat down and thereby use the fresh-water rinse on offer. Well, this apparently caused my friend much mirth and exclamations of “Normal!!??” Well, it seemed normal to me…. Am I going “bossies” …?!

With this in mind we set to and developed a list of our new “normal”.

To help you visualise our current circumstances, to which we have grown fairly accustomed but cannot say we love them all, here is what we deal with daily: wet feet and wet floors (humidity), wet bums and pants (dinghy travel… and Rolf’s race-car driving!), being permanently sodden and streaming (no lovely “glow” in this heat and humidity!); always acknowledging the elements to be in control (sun… there is not enough suncream in the world, wind… which decides on how we will get there, water(sea state) … dictates the ease and comfort of the ride and the sleep); sleeping with no bed sheet deliberately so that we feel the rain as it falls through the hatch onto our legs (and then we know it is raining…. and can leap up and run around and close all the hatches, which were kept open for air); sore, tired muscles from doing work at odd angles, lots of walking to get anywhere, and getting chores done in an environment of stairs, constant movement, limited space, pull starting the outboard motor instead of turning an ignition key - everything is transported by dinghy which involves lots of multiple handling on unstable surfaces; endlessly monitoring our use of resources (when last did you check or limit your water consumption during a shower/gas consumption whilst cooking/fuel consumption while driving/battery condition when using lights/plastic bag consumption for garbage disposal?); regular inconvenience of accessing stuff (either you cannot remember which locker it is in or it is at the back/bottom of the locker); changing our land view even when not travelling – while swinging at anchor or on a mooring (very disorientating at night and when trying to figure out if the anchor is holding); sailing and its attendant sail work and on arrival evaluating options and then executing a mooring or berthing or anchoring – generally resulting in even shorter or broken finger nails. These are not complaints, merely observations of how different and physical our life has become.

Then there are the different standards in presenting oneself (well, for starters, if we are both happy with the other as hair stylist, our standards must have changed…!); different expectations of yourself (if there is a problem… Just fix it!) and of your day (it will be unpredictable: Murphy is a demon operator on boats) and of your life (deal with what comes your way and don’t expect to have much control… A funny one: the tall red postbox outside the café at Inhambane received Laura’s postcards and we happily moved on having completed a little task. Wrong! Walking past the BACK of same postbox the next day revealed it to be a dustbin… silly us to assume all was exactly what it seemed. Happily the postcards, on top of the pile of rubbish, were fine and able to be posted again… at the post office this time.)

So, that is the current “norm” about us. What is the norm in the Seychelles and how does this early days perspective differ from Madagascar?

The Seychellois: friendly, helpful, with a strong environmental consciousness. They have strict rules regarding litter and use of resources, including who may use their islands and beaches. Madagascans, also friendly and helpful but more naive, appear less environmentally-aware; they have no facility for dealing with litter, for example: the backs of their villages are liberally strewn with debris and if a helpful boat-man in a harbour offers to take your rubbish packet, you will return to find it strewn over the dock or in the water (however he will have scanned it for useful things like bottles, a precious commodity). When looking over Madagascar you will see telltale smoke from at least one fire at any time; the belief is that burning forests will help to enrich the soil with its coal/ash. A consequence? Only about 15% of their forests remain and land is not becoming enriched. Only Sakatia Island has a ‘no-burning’ policy, due to strong ex-pat influence, and it is regarded as the richest island for the communities.

However, the Madagascan attitude assists yachties in that we are allowed access virtually anywhere: cruising is an absolute dream with freedom of access to the beaches and islands (unless a luxury lodge frowns at you for blocking their view). In the Seychelles we are disappointingly restricted: many of the islands are privately owned or fall under National Parks, the latter resulting in a daily fee of approximately R150.00 (SA Rand) per person, and another R200 for the yacht (and no facilities for this except access). In fact, here is another normal for our life as we live it in the Seychelles….COST!!!! My first cappuccino since Cape Town was bought by a kind Rolf at a cost of almost R50 (last cappuccino!); we paid R80 for a (large) pineapple the other day…. a bit ripped off as they are normally R60; soft tomatoes from R6 to R8 each and I passed on the Walker’s Christmas mince pies at about R15 per pie. However, some of the Creole cooking takeaways from the street vendors are tasty and cheap at about R20 – R30; but then need to be washed down with beer (local) at R20 and up to R45 in restaurants.
Nonetheless, the Seychelles islands are beautiful. Victoria (on Mahe) is one of the tiniest capitals in the world and has lots of charm – similar to Pietermaritzburg 40 years ago, but is busy and vibrant during the season; Mahe Island has some lovely spots but plays second fiddle to Praslin and La Digue, the main tourist islands… and the other 102 islands! The photo shows Chauve Souris, a private island off Praslin.

We look forward to visiting about 10 of them in our stay before we leave for Chagos and the Maldives at the end of Feb: many islands to the SW of Mahe will be avoided since they are privately owned, many are declared National Parks (and we will not often pay their fees) and many thanks to the pirates (although we have already seen two US Navy warships in Port Victoria… pirate patrol),.

The Seychellois are a colourful people (those on the smaller islands often adopting a Bob Marley-way, complete with accent) and are a range of colour themselves. To paraphrase a local guide book… in the Seychelles, “marriage is not a restrictive institution”! In Madagascar, meanwhile, a young French artist who had worked there for three years told me he was approached by a village chief to please spread his seed and increase the local gene pool (a problem in the small villages).

Rolf is presently drinking a toast (with his cheap Madagascan beer at a mere R12) and paying tribute to one of his favourite items of equipment – a 3 metre scaffold plank that found its way aboard in Richards Bay and has adorned our stern ever since. It has served as a gangplank; a fish cutting board; a coconut chopping platform; a workbench; a fender board; a fixture to secure additional diesel jerry cans on the trip from Madagascar; a washboard (to prevent big following seas from breaking directly into the cockpit); as a lever and as a jacking base to lift the starboard engine, weighing in at a couple of hundred kgs, back onto its mounting bolts (from which it had jumped at some time after a securing nut had unthreaded itself – your engine has not done this after a couple of months use?); and most recently as a scaffold plank to reach an otherwise unreachable light fitting in the cockpit roof (in order to drain the water from the fitting – see above for the new “normal”)

This second photo (also displaying the beauty of the plank)shows an example of interesting mooring practice undertaken by a couple in the charter yacht on the left… gave us a few moments of tension as we watched from the bank!

Today was boat cleaning day and putting up the canvas cockpit screens to enclose the large cockpit and effectively add an additional living space – useful when it rains, which it does a lot of in the current rainy season here! Particularly valuable because our children arrive in the next two days to fill the boat, share Christmas, New Year, interesting experiences, beautiful beaches, a lovely sea and a new look on our world.

Friends visit, playing survivor and surviving a passage

Ok, so this is a long one. Bear with our stories but a lot has happened…. If you want to take it in shifts, we have broken this entry into two coffee-break pieces: You too can have fun with us (the visiting friends part) and You too can survive a passage with us.

You too can have fun with us
We had guests for a week! Alice and Noel were the first of our friends to be brave enough to trust our sailing so they spent a week with us in Madagascar… a week that was wonderful, enjoyed by all, and provided interesting challenges…!

At the start, getting from your plane to your holiday accommodation is a different process when you are joining friends on their boat: arriving at night, the Shaws were picked up at the airport by a stranger, subjected to a long and rough taxi drive to a beach in the dark and then met by a small speedboat which would take them across a to another island where our boat was anchored. We were at Chanty Beach to meet them so they would not feel abandoned (or abducted) and as we walked in the dark over the rough eroded ground and then the beach to board the little transfer boat, Noel’s comment was that it felt like they were in a show of Survivor.

Waking on the first morning in paradise (a bay on Nosy Sakatia), they snorkeled off the boat and enjoyed coconut, mango, banana and papaya smoothies. During the course of the week we showed them all our favourite islands, beaches and snorkeling spots. Before continuing, a clarification… Alice says that reading that we “snorkel from the boat” simply does not convey the experiences we (and now they) have had: the snorkeling from the boat has, on many occasions, been on par with many previous scuba diving experiences. It is truly wonderful.

We played survivor on a tiny lovely beach in Russian Bay, dragging firewood around and making a great fire for a sunset braai. Never have beer, red wine and pork chops gone down better… and it seems the hermit crabs who tried to make beer cans their new homes, and those that FEASTED on the bones, felt the same. (Note that we are very environmentally conscious and feed the locals before removing our mess!)

Speaking of beer…. part of Noel’s survivor training was getting his stomach used to the local beer, which comes in quart bottles and spends days standing in the sun while in tortuous transit from Tana; after an initial wobbly however, he mastered the skill! At all times Alice and Noel were great “crew”: Alice proved a dab hand on the helm, Noel was fisherman and they both cleaned and tidied endlessly!

We did the tourist thing with the craft market at Nosy Komba and shared with them enchanting lemur experiences (Moms with babies wrapped tightly round them, both eating off your hand) then anchored off Lokobe National Park and sent them for a walk along the river in the wild.
Their eyes were big on their return, with tales of being chased out of the forest by the MIGHTIEST roar (“Didn’t you hear it on the boat?”). Chats to a local later revealed this terrifying roar to be made by the tiniest lemur in Madagascar…! That night we were subject to our rolliest sea; to our chagrin (or rather, read into that some fear and anxiety) Madagascar was hit by its first cyclone and we were on the outskirts of it, happily feeling only the impact on the water. Of course, you only know after the event that you will only experience the outskirts of the cyclone, while for days having a gnawing worry that you may have to survive its coming over you… it did not. Alice and Noel had to survive a hot, enervating day in Hell-Ville, but they found it easy by retreating to the local watering-holes and waiting for us as we completed official country exiting procedures and food and fuel provisioning.
Now to the real “survivor” experience… wherever we went, between boat and other activity, we used our trusty intrepid dinghy. It has a small “bailing bucket” in it and we joked as we left on day 1 of their visit (for the first time 4-up in the dinghy) that Noel was to be chief bailer. All went well in the morning but our return saw post-lunch revellers in choppier water with light swell and not paying heed to their weight distribution. It all happened so quickly: Irene saw turtle fin coming out the water and exclaimed; all turned to regard said turtle; water came over the front of the dinghy in a great torrent; all looked stunned momentarily as the second wave came over and submerged the nose of the dinghy as Noel simultaneously BAILED!! – off the boat! By doing so he began the start of our recovery, which continued with Rolf ensuring he kept the motor going to prevent stalling and the three-men-in-a-boat fiercely bailing out water. This word bailing implies method and control: the reality is that the boat was 7/8 full of water and sinking, the bail-bucket (half plastic coke bottle) was lost somewhere amongst 8 floating fins, 8 f-ing walking shoes, 8 f-ing fin booties, 4 f-ing masks and snorkels, clothing, suncream etc… we scooped MADLY with whatever we could: hands, shoes, feet (!) while Rolf used only one hand to scoop and kept the dinghy going in circles with the other. That was the other time Noel played survivor: only he knows how many times Rolf nearly rode over him. Then, when there was some evidence that we may be winning the war on water, Rolf noticed one of his crocs floating off in the distance. So we abandoned Noel and went to fetch it…. leaving Noel to play survivor! Summarised list of casualties: two ladies tops (used for snorkelling), one pair sunglasses, one camera (didn’t like the bailing), four people’s dignity. Summary of the event: we were never in any danger, but the motor would have been, and the post-mortems were hysterically funny!

Summary of the visit: WHAT FUN!!! You too can have fun with us… when are you coming?? Don’t be scared… we are more cautious on the dinghy now, and can sail the yacht really well, having just undertaken a passage completely on our own…

You too can survive a passage with us
Turns out spending a month cruising between islands and anchoring in generally calm waters spoils you and makes you forget that this is not really sailing. So, preparing for passage to the Seychelles, we had to get our minds and hearts back into the idea of sailing through the nights, constant movement under-foot, galley issues, real weather issues with few hide-away spots… and in this case, the added worry of piracy.

The day after the Shaws left, we got underway, having ascertained that the cyclone had gone and weather was good with only a low-pressure system building far in the east and no new cyclone threats. Wake-up call: the sea was horribly disturbed, wind on the nose, could not sail decently but had to power into it… and we both elected to have sea-sick tablets (probably partly induced by nerves). We had two days before leaving the northern tip of Madagascar and on both nights settled into fair anchorages to get some sleep.

Two issues: one… the northern tip (Cap St Andre) is notorious for funneling the seas and winds around it at great speed from the SE so one needs to steer clear and have conservative sail settings, attempting it only when weather conditions are appropriate. We had these conditions. Second issue: of course, both the UK and Dubai-based Maritime Safety Organisations had advised against sailing to the Seychelles (“why not sail in the Caribbean rather?”) as they had to do, with a couple recently being taken by pirates near the Amirantes (one of the Seychelles outer island groups, SW of the main island). We called the Seychelles Coast Guard and advised of our plan to avoid that area by sailing via the Farquhar islands to Coetivy Island, well to the east of the Amirantes. They approved of this plan, and all we spoke to said “head east as soon and fast as possible”.

So we left Madagascar behind us and to our dismay found, firstly, that we simply could not sail east immediately because, although the weather was good, the wind and current were still strong enough to make that virtually impossible and we had no option but to go north…. and, secondly, that we had no more money in our satellite phone account, could make no calls and were about to be cut off completely. (Aside… we had initiated the process of getting more money into the account with our provider but a series of events occurred so this was not completed…. Panic!) Fortunately an sms to Mark was received by him, he called us back and got the show going and the next day we were back on track.

Clearly, we got here safely (the Google Earth site linked to the blog shows our route, updated after we got here to foil the pirates!) and the trip was good, interesting, challenging, tense and simultaneously peaceful! The Indian Ocean north of Madagascar is fascinating: nearer the equator it can be like glass, reflecting the clouds around the rim of this apparent blue dinner-plate (Irene wanted to subscribe to the flat-earth society) but within twenty minutes can turn into a broiling, rolling, confused mess as storms on various sides all make themselves felt on the surface.

We were sometimes covered with gentle showers which moved over quickly and did not change the sailing at all but once after two days of the utmost calm and almost no sailing-wind we were assaulted from all sides and had to survive about 12 hours of heavy weather.

Watches were shared equally between us in 4-hour shifts, with Irene always given the 4 to 8am watch: a real treat, as testified to by the photos. For the first few days we were guarded by a full moon that turned the sea to silver and one morning the rising sun turned a cloud gold, bathing the whole area in magnificent soft golden light.

We were accompanied by birds en route: two hitched rides on the boat as they rested and many others used us to assist them feed…. dozens of flying fish would be disturbed from the water as we passed them and the birds would swoop down on them, capilitalising on the ungainly flight of these odd fish.

Some watches were delightfully peaceful while others required hard work and management of sails and route. All watches were tense as we scanned the horizon for fast-approaching dhows, in the knowledge that we would be able to do nothing in that situation but pick up our contingency “pirate bag” and spend Christmas in Somalia. This may seem overly dramatic but it was the reality and brought about the decision not to stop at any islands en route but to make way as fast as possible to our destination and avoid all exposure: hence no night lights (not even navigation) and no radar - just very sharp eyes. Also hence a conflict between joy at the brilliance of full-moon nights but tension that it made us more visible.

We were of course pleased to arrive here at Mahe Island late on Sunday afternoon but were too exhausted to really celebrate. We had to anchor outside the harbour with the yellow Q flag (standard practice to inform authorities you have not yet cleared in) and wait for them to come out to the boat on Monday morning. We were in bed at 7:30pm…. and embarrassingly slept through the arrival of the 6 Ports, Customs, Immigration, Health, Coastguard and Police guys on their launch at 7:00 on monday morning so that they had to return at about 9 and found us eating breakfast!

We have discovered normal life… a calm night at Seychelles Yacht Club, people across all sectors with a good service ethic, a little town with recognizable supermarkets and a movie house!! (But still no rooibos, provitas, bran or non-chocolate muesli!) Note: please don’t visualize Seychelles Yacht Club as the Royal Cape…. We are on a mooring buoy, no water or power provided by the club, tuna factory and noisy streets alongside. But the food is good and cheap…. Especially by Seychelles standards! After a few days of settling in here we will check out the neighbouring islands and prepare for the arrival of our next sets of visitors…. Mark and Livi, Barry and Kay are coming to join us for Christmas in the Seychelles!