A Publisher’s contract has been signed for this book under the new name
SATURDAYS ARE GOLD
ISBN 9781907375514
Saturdays are Gold will be published by Endaxi Press as an e-book for Kindle, a printed hard back followed by a paper back edition, and finally recorded as an audio book.
The e-book version will be released on Amazon Kindle in mid June 2011.
The content of this book has thus been removed.
What is here are extracts from Senta Newsletters describing some of Pierre’s adventures with his wife and their sailing boat ‘Senta’.
Richards Bay to Cape St Andre
On Friday 25 April we 1997cleared the Richards Bay harbour entrance at 0830 en route for the Nose Bay area of Madagascar. After a send-off from some early birds at Zululand Yacht Club. Senta reached out on starboard tack in a sloppy swell and a light SW wind, encountering enormous steep, toppling seas on the edge of the Aghullas current. These were left over from the strong SW wind the previous day. One of the waves leapt on board, drenched me in the cockpit, and went straight down the main hatch where it landed in Pierre's quarterberth. In the afternoon the wind changed to SE and we beat slowly up the coast for six hours, not going very far. When the NE wind arrived we tacked onto port and started to make good easting. We were both feeling queasy from the rough seas, but Stugeron did its job and we soon felt better. We were too tired to look for the Hale-Bopp comet after sunset, but were treated to a lovely moonlight night and great sailing.
By 0600 the next day we were 75 miles offshore on a latitude halfway between Richards Bay and St. Lucia. The NE wind strengthened and at 0800 we took in 2 reefs in the main and furled the genoa down to working jib size. Senta spent the rest of the day beating into the NE wind while we dozed and tried to establish our sea legs. We didn't eat too much other than dry bread rolls and apples. Although we had seen a few ships the day before, there were none now. The wind blew at 20 knots all day, moderating from 2100 and at 0330 on Sunday morning we shook out the reefs.
Sunday 27 April was spent beating into a light NE wind. In the afternoon we were passed by 'Star Japan' who gave us a weather forecast predicting that conditions would remain the same. I wasn't so sure because some cirrus cloud in the evening warned of coming bad weather.
The following day Pierre fitted the external aerial to the new Sony world band radio receiver and we heard the weather forecast at 1100 telling of a SW gale coming up the coast. By 1300 we had Senta ready for it with storm jib on the inner forestay and three reefs in the main sail. The front came through at 1430 accompanied by gusts, lightening, rain and thunder. The wind blew gale force all night. We ran before it with 'Hilda', our pink wind steering vane, doing a wonderful job of keeping Senta on track with her stern to the waves. We didn't get much sleep because of the violent motion. The gale force wind was interspersed with severe gusts, which Pierre called 'the furies'.
The GPS fix at 0545 on Tuesday 29 April showed that we had run for 85 miles in a northerly direction. We gybed onto starboard to make easting. We were getting too close to the influence of the adverse Mozambique current. Senta was tucking herself in under the west side of Isle Europa while we really wanted to go to the east of it. By midnight we had made 36 miles to the east. The seas were very rough with waves toppling. In the afternoon a wave came on board from astern, gave me another free sea water bath, flew over Pierre's head in the galley and landed on the port saloon berth, having left water behind in the port quarter berth. We must rinse and dry everything once the weather clears.
Well what can one say about running in a gale? The one good thing is that we made progress in our desired direction. Otherwise it was wet, cold, boring and tiring. We had difficulty sleeping and no sooner did you fall asleep than your three-hour off watch period was over. You then had to leave a warm berth and take ten minutes getting dressed in oilskins, boots and harness. This sounds like a long time, but you fell over every two seconds. Just as you wanted to pull up your pants, a 2-hand job, the boat would lurch and down you would go. Thank goodness we have good oilskins and our white milking boots are just what we need to ensure dry feet. Nature tried her best to make up for the discomfort with a beautiful dark blue and white sea, light blue sky, clouds in all shades of grey from white to almost black and wonderful rainbows under each rain cloud. These rain clouds brought an extra spurt of wind to help Senta dance her way towards Isle Europa, now 180 miles ahead. Some of the best sailing ever and we had to do nothing other than hold on and gasp in wonder. Some of the surfing down the waves was fantastic with the green and white water hissing under the hull and Senta roaring downhill.
By 0600 on Thursday 1 May the wind had completely abated and the seas were getting quieter, although there was still a big swell running. We shook out the reefs and continued, goose-winged, on port tack in a light 5 knot SW breeze. A navigation warning on Durban radio asked for a lookout to be kept for a fishing trawler with 10 crew members on board now two weeks overdue on a voyage from Durban to Majunga in Madagascar. After sunset we had a magnificent view of the Hale-Bopp comet. In the middle of the Mozambique channel with no lights in sight and far away from the dusty sunset sky over Africa, the comet was clearly visible to the naked eye and majestic through binoculars.
The next day we reached the half way point to Russian Bay on the NW coast of Madagascar near to Nosy Be. 'Nosy' means island. ‘Be’ means big. Our sea legs were established and we had settled well into our daily routine. During the previous night we had passed Isle Europa to starboard and, 3 hours later Bassas d'India to port. Senta was now broad reaching on starboard straight to Isle Juan de Nova. The evening watch gave us another grand view of Hale-Bopp and later in the night the dolphins performed their 'silver streak' dance, with their long bodies glistening with phosphorescence as they darted towards and away from Senta.
The next two days Senta sailed towards Cap St Andre. The swell from the SW gale had gone down giving us a smooth ride. With the wind behind us we ran goose-winged for the gap between Juan de Nova and Cap St Andre.
In order to keep well clear of the Madagascar coast we had to make several course changes, necessitating gybing the main boom and the polled out genoa. We did a couple of unnecessary gybes at night because of a navigation error when 08 minutes of longitude was read as 00 minutes. An easy mistake to make with the GPS figures in the half-red light at the chart table.
By Monday 5 May we had reached Cap St Andre and then spent thirty six hours rounding it. The cape is surrounded by a large area of shoals, the Pracel Bank. The Sailing Directions describe in horrifying detail the dangers of these shoals for the unwary sailor, so we gave them a very wide berth.
Cape St Andre to Nosy Be
Once round the cape we had the wind abeam and Senta galloped off broad reaching in a 20 knot southerly wind. This is really Senta's idea of fun! But it is disconcerting for us when our 'home' stops being a dignified decorous lady and behaves like a two year old toddler toboganing down a snow slope on a tin tray. The southerly wind fell to 12 knots, but kept us going well all day and through the night.
On Wednesday 7 May the following wind blew from light to non-existent all day and night and shock-horror, we had to motor for a few hours. Our navigation showed that we would arrive at Russian Bay in the night, which we try never to do, so we plotted and sailed a very wide rounding of Nosy Aranje into the Nosy Be area so as to reach Russian Bay in daylight.
Isn't it wonderful when a plan comes together? Our dawdling, elongated course used up the night and at 0830 on Thursday 8 May, exactly 13 days after leaving Richards Bay we sailed in through the Russian Bay entrance. We spent the day loafing and dozing. Pierre was especially tired, having stood watch from 0300 to 0600 and then stayed on deck for the landfall. Russian Bay is as beautiful as we remember it from our previous visits in June of 1996. We shared it with only one other yacht, 'Jinja', a ketch from Hong Kong.
Our distance sailed from Richards Bay was 1487 nautical miles. The GPS rhumb line distance is 1274. We averaged 114,38 miles per day and felt that we had done well. Reflecting on the trip we made 3 mistakes.
- not closing our main hatch in the Aghullas current and hence letting a wave jump down below
- ditto in the big following seas of the SW gale
- the navigation error reading 0 instead of 8 from the GPS display
None of these proved serious and I gave us a 9 out of 10 for the success of the voyage. Our watch keeping worked well and we were both rested and ready for any emergency that might arise. We are becoming more and more certain that our own well being is a critical success factor in any cruise. After all the two most important pieces of equipment on board are our selves.
At Nosy Be
After dropping anchor in Russian Bay we showered, ate, slept, rinsed our sea-water sodden clothes and generally loafed and rested. Local fishermen had established a fishing village on the NW shore. There was considerable coming and going of fishing pirogues, and sailing dhows. A swim under Senta showed remarkably little fouling, other than a good crop of goose neck barnacles aft between the rudder and the keel. I quickly got rid of those nasty speed reducing beasts. On Sunday 11 May we sailed slowly over to Hellville on the island of Nosy Be. Hellville gets its name from a French governor, Admiral d'Helle. Not because it is hellish! It is a pretty and interesting small sea port. On the way we trolled for fish with a lure given to us by Martin Steyn as a farewell present in Richards Bay. It is a horrible green fish with red popping out eyes, but it swims just like a real fish. In no time we had hooked a 4-kg mackerel, We cleaned, gutted and cut it up into steaks. Some we fried for lunch and the rest went into the fridge to provide four more tasty meals.
We spent Monday 12th and the morning of Tuesday 13th checking in through the Port Captain, maritime authority, immigration and customs. Although we flew the yellow 'Q' flag and called the harbour authorities on VHF channel 16 we got no response. So we launched the dinghy and rowed ashore. For those who are interested, particularly at Zululand Yacht Club below is a list of the formalities and the related costs.
Immigration Passports with visa (3 months) R180 per person
Port Captain Port dues payment and receipt R 78 per month
Maritime Authority Cruising Permit R 25
Health Pratique clearance (yellow fever) R 53
Customs Lodge Ships registration papers no charge
Maritime Authority Clearance paper on exit R 5
After the official paper chase we drifted round to Anse du Crater ( Anse = Bay). There it was extremely hot and uncomfortable. So we upped anchor and motored and then sailed in the afternoon westerly breeze back to Russian Bay.
There we stayed for six lovely lazy days: reading, baking bread, walking on the beach, fishing with no luck and doing small boat maintenance jobs. Jijna, the Hong Kong ketch visited for a few days. Just before they left I rowed over to say 'hello'. Hans and Ella from Austria, the owners and Rudi, the permanent skipper, were on board. They gave me a crayfish, already cooked, which they had left over from a crayfish feast. This I took back to Pierre for his lunch.
The second boat to arrive was 'Perlimpinpin', a French yacht with a family of four on board. Frederick, Anna, Martin aged three and one-year-old Alice. After chatting to them I spent the afternoon reading on the beach where I was bitten and stung by multitudes of sand flies and 'no see-ums'. The bites became very red and itchy and lasted for over a week. After several applications of calamine lotion they eventually went away.
On the morning of the 20 May Pierre had his first extremely successful attempt at making bread. In the afternoon we sailed ten miles east along the coast to Nosy Kisimani, and two days later to Nosy Momoka. There we anchored in the corner of an L-shaped island very close to the shore. Pierre tried his luck at trolling for fish from the dinghy. His technique is to tie the 150 lb breaking strain line to the dinghy seat, and tow a lure about 150 meters behind the dinghy. I was watching through the binoculars as Pierre rowed slowly along the shore. Suddenly the dinghy came to an abrupt halt. Pierre quickly shipped the oars and started pulling in the line. The dinghy was dragged backwards into some mangrove bushes overhanging the water. There Pierre had a tremendous battle with the bushes, the fishing line and the fish. He eventually won and landed a lovely big, fat, pink fish. Again we had delicious fresh fish for several meals. On the following day Pierre was again successful with his dinghy rowing/trolling and brought home a 2-kg slender silver fish with lots of large teeth. Our fridge was now well stocked with fresh fish.
On Saturday 24th May we sailed across a wide bay to Ankifi Point in a good northerly breeze. Here several holiday cottages and hotels dot the mountain side and there were two other yachts at anchor. On Sunday night there was a strong on shore wind and plenty of rain. In the morning I collected 60 litres of rain water from the dinghy and stored it in buckets and 2-litre cool drink bottles. This would be used later for showers, clothes and dish washing. There is nothing quite like the feeling of bathing and washing your hair in fresh rain water.
A few days later we sailed to the north side of Nosy Komba to fill our water tanks and do our washing, The water is available from a communal tap and water trough on the beach, under a big tree, next to the school house. The Nosy Komba residents observe their Sabbath on Tuesdays and it is taboo to take water or wash clothes on this day. We knew about the washing ban, but not about drawing water. I saved the washing for the Wednesday morning, but Pierre started filling the jerry cans with water in the late Tuesday afternoon. A young man interrupted him, turned off the tap and said 'Non. Sabbath.' As Pierre was almost finished he turned the tap back on and continued. There were no unpleasant repercussions and the locals probably just wrote us off as ignorant foreigners. On the 29th and 30th we sailed back to Hellville, filled up with Diesel, bought fresh provisions of bread, eggs, paw paws, naartjies, bananas and cheese. We then checked out through immigration, customs and the port authority.
Nosy Be to Seychelles
We left Hellville at 0730 on 31 May heading for Port Victoria on Mahe Island in the Seychelles. We motored forty miles to the north of the Mitsio islands before the wind arrived. Then it came through extremely strongly from the NE - on the nose. The whole of that night and the next day we beat round Cap d'Ambre the northern most point of Madagascar. The head wind was strong and the seas were turbulent. We were both sea-sick. With the calm departure from Hellville we had forgotten to plug the anchor chain pipe and soon water was pouring down into the bilges with each wave that came aboard. To stop the water rising over the floorboards we had to pump every half hour. This miserable, uncomfortable situation continued until midday on the 2nd. The wind abated slightly and we ran Senta off before the waves for a short while. Pierre crawled onto the foredeck and plugged the anchor chain pipe. It was much better not having to pump so often.
Things slowly improved as we approached and passed the Farquhar Islands. St. Pierre's is one of the islands in this group. By Tuesday 3 June the sea sickness was gone but we were in need of sleep. We managed to eat our first meal since leaving Hellville - sweet corn and viennas - cold straight out of the tin.
We were now well into the SE trade winds, fetching on starboard tack in 20 knot winds. Midnight saw us 60 miles south of Alphonse and St. Francois islands. Senta continued to make good progress and in the final 24 hour period covered 165 miles to reach Port Victoria on the island of Mahe in the Seychelles at 1700 on Thursday 5 June.
There we anchored in the outer harbour near the light house to await the customs and immigration officials. We had our first good look at Mahe, heavily wooded granite mountains with steep cliff faces. As the sun set and darkness set in lights sprinkled the mountainsides. The SE wind kept us cool and we had a long peaceful sleep after a quick shower and a hot meal.
The pilot launch loaded with officials arrived at Senta just after 0830 the following day. They were efficient, helpful, friendly and within a half hour the formalities were over. We were spared the usual entomological spraying at a cost of R200 because the health official had run out of insecticide spray. Luck for us!
We were then allowed to move in to the inner harbour and anchor at the Seychelles Yacht Club. There we were hailed and welcomed by two South African yachts; 'Meshugga', a Mayotte 47 ft catamaran and 'Indigo', a Simonis 54 from Cape Town. After anchoring and launching the dinghy I rowed over to Indigo to speak to JJ, the young crew member, whom I had last seen in Madagascar in 1996.
In the afternoon we rowed to the yacht club where we discovered that our Zululand Yacht Club membership entitles us to reciprocity and one month's free stay at the yacht club. There is a pub, canteen serving relatively inexpensive meals, hot showers, a large shady patio and a good view of the yacht anchorage. The manager, Jean Renee, made us feel very welcome.
We were pleased to see an active dinghy fleet of Optimists, Lasers and 420’s
After walking to the bank to cash some traveller's cheques we returned to the club for a late lunch of toasted cheese sandwiches and ice-cream - R56 for the two of us.
Seychelles proved to be expensive with a R45 per day fee payable to the port authorities for the privilege of being there. The supermarket was fairly well stocked and prices were about 50% higher than in South Africa.
An afternoon stroll took us to the Sunsail charter boat jetty where we saw a fleet of eight Clipper class yachts that were racing around the world in an event called CLIPPER '96. The crews were busy preparing for the start of leg five of the race on Sunday from Seychelles to Durban, taking Madagascar to starboard. They expected to have quite a rough passage.
On our first Sunday in Mahe we went on two bus rides around the island. The bus fare is six rupees, about R5.60, which you pay when you get on the bus. It doesn't matter how far you go. So you can take a complete round trip of the island, arriving back at the main bus-station in Port Victoria. Very good value for money. Just about the only thing that was in Seychelles. Being Sunday, the locals were dressed in their Sunday best, visiting relatives and going to church. 90% of the population is Roman Catholic, and obviously good church goers, as the busses were packed. Mahe is mountainous and the busses roar up and down the steep slopes in second gear. There must be some really good bus mechanics on Mahe to keep the vehicles going. We drove on roads with magnificent sea views and shaded by lush vegetation. Mahe is like one huge garden, with the kind of shrubs and plants that I battled to keep alive in pots, here growing as large as trees. Port Victoria is a clean, pretty, well-kept town. The streets are decorated with red, yellow and green flags and everywhere there is a happy, friendly atmosphere.
On Monday 9 June we sailed to the western leeward side of Mahe and picked up a mooring in Bay Ternay. Pierre trolled from the dinghy in the evening and caught a small fish for supper. The water was clear so I swam and gave Senta's bottom a wipe down. Multitudes of various coloured fish swam round me while I worked. I had just climbed back on board when we received a nasty surprise. An outboard powered launch came up, told us that we were in a national park and the charge for staying there was 50 rupees per person per day. We paid over 100 rupees - about R96 and immediately left for a hard beat down to the south west part of Mahe where we anchored in the well-protected bay at Anse de la Mouche - the bay of flies. We remained there for five days, during most of which time it rained on and off. One morning the dinghy was so full of water that it was just about sinking. So again I filled our buckets and 2-litre Coke bottles.
We walked ashore every day and on one stroll found a small shrine to the Virgin Mary. It was well maintained with a statue of Mary, decorated with artificial and real flowers and a candle burning at night.
Tired of the rain we decided to escape and sailed the forty miles to Bay St. Anne on Praslin Island in seven hours going well reaching across the SE trade winds under single reefed mainsail and working jib. Bay St. Anne is not the ideal anchorage being on the windward side of the island. It is extremely shallow and the entrance is not well marked, with a narrow channel between two sandbanks and a shelf of rocks. But we made it in OK and anchored off the jetty to watch several sailing ferries go to and from the nearby island of La Digue. The ferries are in tip top condition, all painted white with yellow and orange trim and awnings. They are handled with great skill by the Seychellois boatmen.
We rowed ashore to check in with the police as required and to buy some fresh bread. Praslin is fairly quaint but not nearly as pretty as Mahe and is much more litter strewn. Plastic bags and Liquifruit containers line the streets - quite ugly!
The rough anchorage at Bay St. Anne chased us round the east side of Praslin to anchor at Anse Lazio in Chevalier Bay on the north west corner of the island. This is a beautiful, well-sheltered bay with clear water and a picturesque beach onto which the gentle swell breaks. Several Sunsail charter boats shared the anchorage with us.
As the time to leave Seychelles drew near we started to contemplate our next passage - a one thousand mile beat to Chagos, a British owned archipelago in the middle of the Indian Ocean. The US navy pilot book and Ocean Passages for the World told us that we could expect head winds of fifteen to twenty-five knots for the whole of the trip. We decided to remove the genoa from the foil on the forestay and replace it with the yankee. We also planned to rig the inner forestay and carry a working jib on it. We discussed what to do if the beat to windward became too tiresome and checked that we had charts to enable us to re-route to Sri Lanka or the Maldives if necessary.
An American, Bob, on his yacht 'Allegra' told us the frequencies on which the yachts with ham radios or SSB communicate. As we had Sony SSB receiver we are able to listen to the inter boat chit chat. One of the first things we heard was a request for yachts in the Seychelles to be on the look out for a 35-ft Beneteau yacht stolen in April from Eritrea in Ethiopia. There was a $ 6ooo reward for information leading to the recovery of the yacht. So we kept our eyes peeled but decided to keep well clear if we saw the boat as the suspected thief was armed with a Magnum 357 and 50 rounds of ammunition. It was very unlikely that the boat was still hin the Seychelles but it could be further east on the route we are planning to follow. ( Note: A year later in Malaysia we learned that the boat was in Seychelles while we were there and soon after we left it was recovered, although the thief escaped from custody and disappeared.)
After a day or two of sunshine the rain followed us, so we now took our showers Seychelles style. Up on deck, clothes off, shampoo in hand, lather all over and wait for the rain to wash you clean - lovely!!
We remained in the sheltered anchorage of Anse Lazio on Praslin island. It blew strongly from the south east and rained buckets of water. We pitied the tourists and Sunsail charter clients who had spent thousands of dollars on their trip to paradise. They were getting seasick sailing between islands that they could only view through a misty veil. We had plenty of time to wait for things to get better. This waiting time was used to re-pack heavy items on the boat, moving them aft to lighten the bow. Hopefully this would prevent Senta scooping every wave on board during the coming up-wind leg to Chagos. We rowed ashore and cut each other's hair. A small stream dribbled down the granite rocks behind the beach. We built a dam with rocks and sand and soon had a small pool of fresh water to bathe in after our haircuts. Back on the boat we listed 21 things to do before leaving Seychelles.
A rough five-hour sail took us back to Mahe where we completed the check out procedures, bought some T-shirts and fishing tackle and filled up with diesel and water. A USA warship from Diego Garcia docked in Port Victoria, presumably to give the crew some R and R. She looked very festive, decorated with flags during the day and coloured lights at night. There was a party on board and a fireworks display. We could have had grandstand seats except we were below in our bunks getting our last full night's sleep for quite a while.
Seychelles to Chagos
Senta left Port Victoria at 0730 on Saturday 28 June, beating into moderate seas and a 15-knot south easterly wind. She was rigged as a cutter, with the yankee on the forestay, jib on the inner stay and a single reef in the main sail. This proved to be an effective rig, reasonably fast in moderate winds. By furling the yankee we could quickly reduce the sail area to that able to sustain 30 knots of wind and more. The beat continued into wind varying from fifteen to twenty-five knots. It sometimes lifted us towards Chagos and sometimes headed us away. All we could do was follow the wind, cheering when we were lifted and cursing when we were headed. Luckily we escaped the dreaded 'mal de mer'.
Several rain showers in the late afternoon of Tuesday 1 July killed the wind completely. We were left to flop around in the sea. In the early hours of Wednesday, fed up with the lack of wind we started the motor, which ran for an hour before packing up with a loud clanking noise. Oil was seeping out of the nuts on the top of the number one cylinder rocker box cover. Just great! Now we had no wind and no motor. At dawn a light southerly breeze appeared and we started drifting on our way again. During the morning Pierre took a look at the motor. Miraculously he managed to repair it. A bolt that holds the valve rocker shaft housing onto the cylinder head, and the rocker box cover on, had sheared. Luckily we had a bolt of the same dimensions as a spare part for our self steering apparatus. Pierre managed to alter it appropriately with a hacksaw and file and the engine then ran with no clanking noise. We let it run long enough to cool the fridge and then let it rest. The light wind died and the calm continued. This was meant to be a wild thrash to windward and here we were, frustrated, irritable, slopping around in the sea. I amused my on-watch hours by spitting into the sea to decide, by our movement compared with the spit bubble, if we were moving forward or backwards. Eventually at 1030 on Friday 4th July a bird landed on the dinghy on the foredeck. A half hour later the wind came back blowing 20 to 25 knots from the south east and we could get back to the business of beating to Chagos.
Beating, beating, beating. Wind oscillating between east and south, with rain showers in the afternoon and evening upsetting the pattern.
Monday morning 7 July was the kind of Monday morning we like. No traffic jams to contend with. Just an endless succession of grey crests to climb. A grey, cloudy sky and occasional rain showers. Senta continued to eat away the miles.
The wind died in the early hours of the following morning and we had light to no wind until midday. We used the motor to help us along after an argument which went like this:-
Faith ‘ This calm is annoying. Let’s start the motor.’
Pierre ‘ I only want to use the motor when absolutely necessary. It is old and something else might break.’
Faith ‘OK then. We might as well unbolt the engine from its mountings and throw it in the sea. It is an expensive, heavy, nonpaying passenger’
At midday the wind came back from the east and we were 116 miles from Chagos. We sailed southwards hoping to escape the area of rain squalls and calms and get back into the SE trade wind belt. By far the major part of the 1000-mile journey was complete, but the remaining miles were being won with difficulty. Not many boats other than Senta have such a good windward ability in both light and heavy winds, and against a choppy sea.
We sighted Peros Banhos, the NW atoll of the Chagos archipelago at 1500 on 9 July. By 2100 we had 27 miles to go to the pass into the Salamon atoll. The last night of the voyage was enough to test the patience of saints - and saints are what we are not. Light variable winds, rain squalls and gusts, thunder, lightning, torrential rain and wind from all directions. By doggedly sticking to the task we achieved our objective.
By 0600 on the morning of 10 July we were hove-to five miles off the pass into the lagoon at Salamon. At 0800 we had our anchor down in the shallow water of the pass. We had made it to Chagos, in spite of the doubts of some cruising folk we had met in Seychelles. Bill, a Frenchman off 'Eclipse' had raised his eyebrows, pursed his lips, shrugged his shoulders and said 'Chagos? Against the wind! Maybe. Maybe not.'
The visibility remained poor all day with sky to sea rain curtains. We remained where we were and did not try to cross the lagoon to a more sheltered anchorage in the lee of Isle Takamaka. The lagoon contains many coral heads and the sun must be high and behind you to move safely there.
In the afternoon we were visited by Ralph and Connie of the American yacht, 'Arjemand', which was anchored at Boddam Island. They were on the way in their red inflatable to explore Isle de Passe - in the rain. They told us that Chagos used to be inhabited by people working the coconut plantations, under British control. When the British leased Diego Garcia, the third atoll in the archipelago, to America, a term of the lease was that there should be no local inhabitants. So the British relocated the whole population, most of whom had lived here for hundreds of years, to Mauritius. Resettlement on a grand scale.
On Friday 11th, with the sun shining, we could see the coral heads and motored across the lagoon to anchor on a sand spit between Takamaka and Fouquet islands. We launched the dinghy and fitted it with oars, rowlocks and its tiny two horse power motor. In the afternoon we motored over to the beach for a picnic of coffee, biscuits and pickled fish with an Australian couple, Phil and Julie. They and their boat 'Illawong', were due to leave the following day for Malaysia. Phil showed us how to open a coconut, of which there are hundreds lying on the beach.
There was another boat anchored nearby, Free Poland'. On Saturday afternoon the skipper rowed over to Senta in a small child's inflatable boat. He told us that his big dinghy had been punctured by a shark that he had caught a few days ago. Hope we don't catch any sharks. We had hooked a small tuna, trolling on the cross lagoon trip from the pass, and cut it up for bait. With this bait we caught two other fish. One orange and silver fish, good for two meals, and a whopping big pink fish with powder blue polka dots from which we got four meals. At this rate our supply of tinned food wouldl last a long time. We had however also lost three hooks, one with a steel trace, to something much larger, probably sharks. All this fishing was done by dropping a line over the transom and letting it stream back in the current.
13 July 1997 - unlucky number
We went for a beach and reef walk on Isle Fouquet. While walking on the seaward side of the island, close to the line of bushes above the reef, a small white eel darted out and bit Pierre on the back of the ankle before slithering back into the sea. The wound bled a lot but Pierre managed to walk about one kilometre back to the dinghy. Once back on board Senta I stopped the bleeding with a pressure bandage and then attempted to close the deep, 2-cm long wound with sterri-strip dressings. I smothered the wound with Podine ointment, covered it up with sterile lint and a crepe bandage. Pierre was then more comfortable and lay in the saloon with his feet propped up on a cushion reading a John le Carre novel. After the initial shock of the wound the leg began to pulse. Pierre suffered the excruciating pangs of eel bite all that day and well into the night, before he could sleep. I started him on a course of antibiotics just in case of infection.
So much rain fell during the next three days that I could do all of the laundry that had accumulated since Seychelles. We were boat-bound for six days because Pierre was unable to walk. Just as well that he had several weeks to recover. We could not have sailed with his leg so injured and would have had to postpone any earlier planned departure. Talk about 'Serpent in Paradise'!
Our anchorage on the sand spit between Takamaka and Fouquet islands was sheltered and picturesque. Through the gap between the two islands we could see the sea breaking on the weather side of the reef. The other ten boats in the Salamon lagoon were anchored at Boddam Island. This is a lee shore, exposed to the SE trade wind, which blows continually at between ten and twenty knots. According to Richard, from 'Free Poland', it was unpleasant there, with sopping wet dinghy rides to and from the shore. There are some shore-side attractions at Boddam, including a club house, volley ball court and fresh water well. Most of these have been built and are maintained by passing yachtsmen. Another negative to the Boddam anchorage is the coral bottom and numerous coral heads (bommies).
The rainy weather soon stopped and we had lovely, sunny days with the occasional rain shower at night. Pierre took his first walk ashore on Monday 21st, more than a week after the eel bite. He wore white milking boots to keep the foot dry and carried a big, big stick to ward off other eels. But we didn't see any. We did see lots and lots of rubber sandals and shoes washed up on the beach. It is hard to imagine where they all come from.
The same day a new arrival proved to be Jonathon, a French sloop we had last seen in Madagascar in 1996. We had drinks on board, fruit juice for us and rum for Thiery and Njiwa, and snacks of fried coconut, while we told each other of our travels since we had last met. Thiery is French and Njiwa has Italian parents, but she was born in Kenya. Her name means 'dove' in Swahili.
On a walk on Takamaka island, in a clearing in the coconut plantation we found a fresh water well covered over with a sheet of plywood and a piece of carpet. Nearby was a sign that the water was polluted and should be boiled for 30 minutes before drinking. At the bottom of the sign was the grand title 'British Indian Ocean Territory Authority'. An Australian humorist had made another sign on a stone that read in mock-pidgin English. 'Sweet wate belong u me spose u bugger up we killum u ded'
We battled to learn how to open coconuts. It took us about a half hour with hammer, cold chisel, lots of grunts and curses to open one, whereas experienced people open them in under five minutes.
Pierre says I must tell you of the beauty here: the clear water; yellow, green and brown coral reefs; white beaches; green islands topped with coconut trees; cooling SE trade wind. But there are some things that are not so good. Like Monty the moray eel who lives at the end of the stone pier on Boddam island. His body is as thick as a strong man's thigh and no one knows how long he is. They have only seen his head as it comes out to catch the fish heads and tails thrown away as the cruising people clean their fish catch. We heard of a young lady who tried to feed Monty by hand. His mouth closed over her hand and stripped off all the flesh. She had to be taken to the US base at Diego Garcia, over 100 miles away for treatment.
After spending two weeks at Takamaka we sailed/motored the three miles to Boddam Island to join the other cruising boats. The trip was hair raising as there are many reefs, coral heads and rocks that are only visible when the sun shines. There was much cloud about and each time the sun went behind one we were running blind.
Boddam is an interesting island to explore. There are several ruins of buildings from the old coconut plantation days. The passing yachtsmen have made comfortable shore based camps and a clubhouse out of the ruins. There is a well of fresh water and some rain water tanks for drinking water. Most of the crew from the ten boats anchored there gathered ashore in the late afternoon. More energetic folk played volleyball on a court marked out in a clearing just behind the beach. Others sat around chatting and swapping information about anchorages, good places to stop, eat etc. The view from the shore was entrancing. The boats gently moved in the small waves, the multicoloured lagoon, blue and white sky - all framed by the beach and palm fronds.
One morning a British Nimrod aircraft (used to be a Comet) flew round and round the Salamon atoll for about two hours doing an aerial survey to update the admiralty charts. As he was leaving, he called up the yachts on VHF radio, apologising for disturbing the peace. I replied that he hadn't disturbed us. We had enjoyed watching him flying and he had a beautiful aircraft. The pilot sounded quite pleased as he said 'thank-you'.
30 July was Humphrey's birthday. His boat is 'Brumby'. So a public holiday was declared. No work - only play all day and a beach party 'pot luck' and bonfire at night. Each boat brought their own special food preparation to the party. There was pasta, pizza, barracuda casserole, shrimp canapés, fresh bread, heart of palm salad, chocolate cake and coconut/raisin pudding. A real five star feast. After the meal the bonfire was lit and the effects of the meal worked off by wild dancing round the bonfire.
We met Johan and Ingrid and their mad dog Tina from the yacht 'Nicola'. Tina loves riding on the bow of the inflatable, standing with her ears and tail flying back in the wind. I don't know how she keeps her balance. She has a piece bitten out of her tongue and several other nicks on her body from her favourite pastime of herding small sharks in shallow lagoons. She has some Border Collie in her, hence the herding instinct.
We stayed at Boddam Island for a week before the wet dinghy rides chased us back to Takamaka. Our days were spent snorkelling, exploring the islands, reading, loafing (we do much of that) and getting Senta ready for the next stage of our journey - about 1900 miles to Langkawi in Malaysia. We had to fix a few engine problems and a stranded lower aft shroud, among many other small jobs. Someone here told us that cruising is really boat maintenance in exotic places. How true!
Our last week in Chagos was busy. Mixed in with our own preparations we found time to soak up some of the paradise atmosphere. We also helped a Canadian boat, Demelza, that arrived with a broken forestay. The upper swage above the roller furler had parted. The stay and furler were brand new, having been installed in Australia 3 months before. Their new Sobstad genoa had split most of its glued seams. Not a very good advertisement for the Australian boat service industry. Luckily Erya on Aku Anka(Donald Duck in Finnish) is an experienced sailmaker and double stitched all the seams in the genoa. We managed to get their forestay and foil back up, but not strong enough and they planned to only use their inner stay on the downwind run to Seychelles.
A shoal of gar fish set up a nursery under Senta. Hundreds of baby fish were hatched and the adults stood sentry guard, day and night, to keep the babies under Senta's hull and ward off attacks from marauding tuna, who dashed in at high speed, gobbled up a few small fish and then returned hurriedly to deeper water. This underwater life and death ballet went on all day and night for a over a week before we left. I wondered where the nursery was moved to when we were gone.
In our pre-departure checks we located two major problems. Firstly our starboard lower shroud had a stranded wire just below the upper swage. We made a new stay from our port runner, a turnbuckle and a sta-lock fitting we had in our spares kit. We were expecting the wind to be on our starboard side for most of the 1800 mile sail to Malaysia. So we felt safe in sacrificing our port runner which we hoped to be able to replace later. The second major problem was that the crack in the number one cylinder head was now much bigger and feeding seawater into the engine at quite a rate. We did what we could with Pratley's putty and prayers to the patron saint of diesel engines. The last three days were spent baking bread & scones for the voyage, beach braais and visits from the crews of the boats sailing Westwards. We told them about Madagascar, Zanzibar, Mayotte, Kenya, Tanzania, the Mocambique channel and Richards Bay.
By Sunday 31st we had done everything and now had no more excuses for staying so we left Chagos, hoping to return often and soon.
Chagos to Langkawi, Malaysia
Senta left Salamon Atoll in the Chagos archipelago on Monday 1st September 1997 and made reasonably good progress in the moderate SE wind, keeping south of the rhumb line to stay in the wind as long as possible. After four days Senta had averaged 110 miles per day, but the wind was becoming light and fitful.
Light easterly breezes during the day forced us northwards and then disappeared in the early evening. We dropped all sails and sat rolling around until a light SW wind came through a few hours later. Senta ran goose-winged with the genoa poled out through the night until the calm returned in the pre-dawn light. We crossed the 80deg.E meridian, the magical number below which one should not cross the equator for fear of losing the wind, with still 29 miles to spare.
Poor to no wind most of that night changed to a fresh NE in the early morning. The 06h00 sight showed we had crossed another meridian, 81deg. with the equator still 11,6 miles to the North, though it is very possible that we may have crossed & re-crossed it during the night, with our doldrums dodging maneuvers. Pierre had been troubled by a tooth ulcer for a few days and this started to affect his ear, which became very painful. We started treatment with a course of anti-biotic and eardrops. The whole day was spent hunting cats paws, and in the middle of the day we drifted across the equator. The night was spent lying a-hull with all sails down to stop them slatting.
A week out of Chagos the wind continued very light to almost nothing, but what there was came from the East, forcing us northwards away from the rhumb line to Sumatra. The nights were scattered with rain squalls, during which we had to furl the genoa for a few minutes while the wind increased to 25 knots, then followed by calms which had us flopping around in the waves left over from the squalls.
By Friday 12 September we were within 200 miles of Sri Lanka. We heard on the SSB radio that a massive high pressure had moved up the Malacca Straits and into the top of the Bay of Bengal, effectively nullifying all signs of the south westerly winds that we should have been getting. A very tired swallow had arrived on board the previous day and spent the night sleeping on the curtain rail above the galley counter. At dawn the next day he left in the direction of Sri Lanka after a couple of test flights away from and back to Senta. Before each flight he perched on my head as if to say "goodbye and thank you". I hope he made it to dry land. That night a light SW wind arrived & we could start on our way again. During the early hours of Saturday morning a green flare emerged from the water about a half a mile away to starboard. Our books told us that this is the signal from a submarine that has just fired a test torpedo and might want to surface. We didn't see the sub, but the night was very dark and it was unlikely that we would see anything so low on the surface of the sea.
The wind continued light to moderate SW and we made progress at a rate of just under 100 miles per day towards our destination of Bass Harbour, Kuah, Langkawi in Malaysia. After 2 weeks of our voyage, when we had hoped to already be at Bass Harbour, we still had 725 miles to go. This was turning out to be a frustrating, tiresome trip.
During the afternoon of Monday 15th a fishing boat came towards us from our port quarter. He should have easily passed behind us, but deliberately altered course to cross less than 6 metres in front of us. He then turned to his starboard to resume his previous course. Ralph of Arjemand had previously told us that the Indonesian fishing boats do this in order to offload their bad luck onto you. They call it ‘cutting the head off the snake’. Without Ralph’s information we would have been terrified. As it was we were pretty scared, but all turned out OK except for our accelerated pulse rates.
Two days later rain squalls in the early morning from the NW, then turning SW helped us on our way. In the early afternoon we came upon a Chinese cargo vessel, Sea Diamond. She had engine problems and after passing us stopped directly in our path several miles in front. The wind was blowing 25 knots and we were surfing down the waves under double reefed main and small jib. It was great fun having the boot on the other foot and tearing down on a motor vessel. The captain got a bit itchy and called us on channel 16. He said he was unable to maneuver and asked us to keep clear of him. We gladly agreed to as we would undoubtedly come off worst in any collision. He later chatted to Pierre, asking him about us, our destination and where we had come from.
We now had the task of crossing the very busy shipping lane carrying traffic between Malaysia, Singapore, China etc and the Red Sea and Africa. We saw out first ships on the evening of Thursday 18 September and in the early hours of the following morning a rising barometer brought a line squall and blinding rain just when we were in the middle of the shipping lane, with a possibility of ships coming from both sides. Pierre sent out a radio message to all ships, followed by a Securite message warning of our presence, giving position, direction and speed. The nearest ship responded saying he could see us and wishing us a good voyage. He emerged out of the rain about 2 miles away. We ship dodged all morning but worse was yet to come.
At about midday after we had seen the last of the ships we sailed into a tide-rip, 30 miles northwest of Rondo Island, which is just north of Sumatra. The pilot and charts warn of these rips up to 20 miles from Rondo. We had allowed a 10 mile safety margin, but it wasn't enough; probably because we were going through at equinoctial spring tide. It was frightening. Senta was running with the 20 knot wind into a tidal current of four knots sweeping out of the Malacca Strait. The following waves caused by this current versus wind situation were vertical, standing and breaking, 2,5 to 3 metres high, with only about 6 metres between the waves. The tide rip stretched from horizon to horizon, with no way out other than to carry on. We had to hand steer to keep Senta's transom into the waves and stop her from being rolled over. It was nail biting, hard, concentrating work. Pierre steered for two hours, I took over for two hours & Pierre did another hour before we were through the worst. This was a scary and threatening episode. If anything had gone wrong with the steering mechanisms, or the helmsman losing concentration, Senta would have rolled side on to the waves, probably been turned upside down, lost her mast and sunk. We had all hatches closed and secured, and were pooped with waves coming on board from astern. In future we will do everything to avoid sailing through a tide-rip, including sailing a detour of several hundred miles. It is just not worth the risk.
The next day a strong SW wind sent Senta racing downwind under a double reefed mainsail and a 50% working jib rolled out. We were now 240 miles from Kuah. During the night we saw no ships, no porpoises, no nothing. Just the occasional mini tide rip to remind us of the terror of the day before, and the loom of some light houses at Sumatra.
By Sunday 21st September we were 124 miles from Kuah, with the wind a light SE whisper. In the morning a school of porpoises came by doing aerobatics. High leaps, double somersaults, triple rolls, showing us how happy they were to see us.
We were still troubled by mini tide rips and were in an area of confused seas. The wind remained light easterly all day, and a dragonfly landed on the deck in the afternoon, the first sign of our coming landfall. Three weeks out of Chagos we continued to be plagued by light winds as we approached the Butang group of islands north of Langkawi. By midday these winds had disappeared into the smoke haze from the forest fires in Sumatra. We slowly drifted along being bugged by many fishing boats who deliberately went out of their way to come straight at us making us tack away as we were obliged to keep clear since they were in the act of fishing. We initially wanted to anchor at the outer Butang islands that night, but got nowhere near in the light winds, so we carried on through the night.
The next morning we made VHF radio contact with Nereid and Arjemand, boats we had known in Chagos and also Mariposa, one of our Zululand Yacht Club friends. They were in a marina at Rebak Island, just off the Southwest corner of Langkawi. The visibility was extremely poor because of the haze, so we decided to join them in the marina. A wise choice as this is a lovely, well run marina and reasonably priced. Friends were waiting at the walk on to take our lines and soon we were settled in. After a short sleep we went for a swim in the large, crystal clear swimming pool and then a dinner of local Malaysian food at the marina restaurant.
The rest of September, all of October and most of November were spent at Rebak marina. This was an ideal location for the work we had to do repairing our engine and rigging. Langkawi is a duty free port with an international airport, ideal for bringing in spare parts, and at Rebak we had access to faxes, telephones etc.
The rigging problem was easily sorted out. Pierre drew up detailed specifications of what we needed, faxed these to WesMarine in the USA, together with our credit card details and within two weeks the rigging was delivered to our boat in the marina. And what's more it all fitted perfectly. We were definitely impressed with the service.
The engine repair was a different story. We sent a fax to Volvo in Sweden describing the problem, and received a reply within 24 hours detailing the part numbers we needed and the name, phone and fax numbers of their agent in Kuala Lumpur, through whom we should order the parts. ‘Oh boy!’, we thought, ‘this looks like another example of excellent service’. But we were wrong. We faxed our requirements to the agent. For three weeks we phoned and faxed to chase progress. We were told they were "working on it" and "sourcing the parts from Singapore". At the end of the three weeks we were asked to send our requirements again as they had lost our original fax ! After a further three weeks the parts arrived.
In the meantime we had made contact with Terry, an Australian, living on his yacht at Rebak, who agreed to help us with the repair. He did an excellent job, explaining to us all of the time what he was doing and charging a reasonable fee.
While all the "waiting for parts" was going on we spent the time making and chatting to new friends in the marina; shopping - clothing and melamine crockery are particularly good and cheap; waiting for the haze from the Indonesian fires to clear, which it did only after we had been in Langkawi for 3 weeks; sewing - I made new curtains and a sun awning for Senta and saloon cushion covers for Nereid, a friend’s boat; and being ill - Pierre had a bad attack of some kind of fever which left him with a urinary tract infection and an inability to pass urine. By the time he asked for medical help he could hardly walk. The marina staff were very helpful, bringing a ferry to Senta, taking us to the main island, and then in a marina car to the Langkawi hospital. There we were charged R3, Pierre was attacked with a catheter, and after a few days rest and lots of medicine he started to recover. In the meantime I had an attack of gout in my big toe - the first in three years - and hobbled around for a few days.
By the start of December we had done enough work and were ready to play.
Senta took us for a three day sail to the "Fresh Water Lake" and back. This is an island South of Langkawi, in the centre of which is a cool green lake of clear fresh water.
We then stocked up the boat with duty free goodies - beer, wine & chocolates are particularly cheap - and set off for Phuket in Thailand where were to meet Ingrid, our daughter and her husband Phillip.
Langkawi to Phuket, Thailand and back
We were scheduled to meet our daughter Ingrid and her husband Phillip on 12 December 1997 so set off from Rebak Marina for our first cruise northwards up the Malacca Straits to the Thai island of Phuket , about 120 miles away.
Our first stage was a one day sail to the Butang Island group, Thailand territory, but unoccupied except for a few fishing camps. There we stayed for four days, enjoying the peace, quite and clear water. On our last day a four masted sailing ship, a barquentine, sailed in for the day. Their passengers were taken ashore for a barbeque and the ship sailed out again after sunset with lights strung from the masts, looking like a fairy ship.
The next sail was to Ko Rok Nok. "Ko" means island in Thai. We sailed half of the forty two miles in a reasonable wind, but this died at midday and we had to motor the rest of the way - a good test for the recently repaired engine. At Rok Nok we anchored in a channel between two islands in twelve metres of water so clear we could see our anchor and chain on the bottom. Lots of colourful tropical fish swam around us. White beaches lined both islands which were heavily wooded. On one small beach under a large tree the fishermen had established a shrine which was surrounded with offerings of flowers, fruit etc. We stayed here for two days during which several yachts came and went on their way to Phuket or Langkawi.
On Sunday 30 November we left Ko Rok Nok and sailed the thirty five miles to the north end of Ko Lanta Hyai. Here we anchored in among hundreds of fishing buoys in shallow water in a bay well protected from the north east. Just as well, because two hours after anchoring we were treated to a fifty knot rain squall blowing from the shore. Our anchor was well dug in, so we stayed in place. There were no other yachts in the bay when we arrived but we were joined by three others later in the evening and the following day. We noticed that even though there was a good sailing breeze, the yachts all arrived under motor. This we were to see again and again during our time in Thailand and Langkawi. Very few people actually sail. Whether it is because they are too lazy or don't know how we have yet to discover.
After a days rest at Ko Lanta Hyai we sailed to Phi Phi Don, the most popular tourist island in the Phuket area. Bedlam and mayhem !! Dozens of ferries bringing hundreds of tourists from the mainland; high speed motor boats taking customers out to diving launches and a large barge off which people went parasailing; other motor boats towing long yellow inflatable sausages to which screaming tourists clung; zillions of longtail boats taking tourists everywhere. A "longtail" is a local wooden narrow boat powered by an industrial small petrol engine to which is connected a long pipe with a propeller at the outer end. This pipe can be dipped into the sea when the longtail wants to move forward. Quite an ingenious idea and the boats have very good sea-kindly hulls - but the engines have all had their silencers removed and even one boat makes an incredible noise, especially when the sound bounces off the tall sandstones cliffs. So what with the incredible noise, lumpy water from all of the to-ing and fro-ing and air pollution from petrol and diesel fumes we thought we had sailed straight into the jaws of hell. It was only after tourists started to leave in the late afternoon that we began to realise that Ko Phi Phi Don is really able to live up to its reputation of being one of the three most beautiful islands in the world.
The next day we left early to miss the chaos and sailed the thirty miles to Ao Chalong on the east coast of Phuket. After checking in we spent the next few days sailing up the west coast of Phuket, stopping at - Nai Hairn, where the Kings Cup Regatta was due to take place in a weeks time; Karon Beach - quiet, few tourists, long beach; Ao Patong - the tourist mecca of the west coast - just like Phi Phi Don - but not quite so terrible!
We halted our northwards progression at Ao Bang Tao (Ao = bay in Thai). This was close enough to the airport for us to meet Ingrid and Phillip. Here we had the enjoyable experiences of encountering some elephants grazing in a field along the road side when we walked into the nearest village, and also seeing a baby elephant playing on the beach in the afternoons. He had been brought down to the beach by his keeper to play in the waves and entertain the young guests at the hotel and holiday resort.
After collecting Ingrid and Phillip from the airport in a hired minibus, we sailed / motored to Patong, Nai Hairn and Phi Phi Don. The last to show them how awful it is - why should we be the only ones to suffer? Then on to Phi Phi Le, where the snorkling was good until I saw a shark. Ingrid and I broke all swimming records returning to Senta.
We then sailed to Ko Dam Hok, a beautiful anchorage between two islands behind a sand spit. On the second day there, we were joined by a Concepta 65, "Paradise Blue". The skipper’s girlfriend is a South African, so they came over to say hello and invited us on board. A space age yacht, easily sailed single handed. All sail and other controls are push button hydraulic. Below decks are fully air conditioned. The saloon has a complete electronic entertainment centre; surround sound, pull down screen for laser movies, Karaoke! Phillip visualised a group of Japanese businessmen sitting down below doing Karaoke while the skipper sailed the boat on his own through the raging gales ! Five generators, an HP file server, several computers, electronic charts, washing machine, 100 litres / hour water maker and ice maker. Lovely boat but not for us at $ 1,75 million.
After visiting Laem Nang beach west of Krabi, another madness of tourists, longtails and noise, we sailed north to anchor in a quite bay at the north end of Ko Yai Noi.
We spent two days here before taking another two days sailing to Ko Racha Yai, about twenty miles south of Phuket, where we spent Christmas day. Our lunch at three in the afternoon at a small restaurant on the beach consisted of a large grilled fish shared by Pierre and Phillip, an omelette for me and a spicy chicken dish for Ingrid. We then turned north again, stopping at Ao Chalong where we saw John Reed and his yacht, Wind Magic, from Zululand Yacht Club.
Then on to Ko Phanak where we took the dinghy on a scary row through a dark tunnel into an island lagoon; and eventually stopping at the marina of Yacht Haven on the north coast of Phuket. Here Ingrid and Phillip had a day to relax, wash, pack, and join us in a farewell dinner at the marina restaurant before catching their plane the next day for Bangkok and South Africa.
January 1998
We sailed back to Ao Chalong to check out of Thailand, but had to wait there for a few days as the Thai immigration / customs officers were closed for the new year holidays.
While at anchor there we watched a comedy of errors involving a small Italian yacht, "Geronimo". She had tied up to a buoy in the bay and all of the crew had gone ashore. While they where away, a large fishing boat, whose buoy Geronimo had taken, arrived. The crew of the fishing boat moved Geronimo to a nearby mooring, tied her up and to make sure she was safe, also dropped her anchor. When Geronimo's crew arrived back after a good lunch ashore, they started their motor, untied the rope attached to the buoy and tried to motor away - not realizing that the anchor was down. They went one way and then another, reverse and forward - but no joy - the anchor kept pulling them up short. They peered over the side and transom, to see what the problem was. Eventually the skipper jumped into the water, with mask and snorkel, to check the propeller. Finding no problem there he slowly swam forwards to find that the boat was securely anchored. There was some gesticulation and queries about which fool had dropped the anchor. When no one would own up the skipper called for the anchor to be pulled up. Halfway up the anchor flukes caught in the mooring buoy's chain and wouldn't come any further. There was further shouting and heaving until eventually the anchor came clear, leaped out of the water and nearly took off the skipper’s head. We laughed ourselves sick almost rolling on the cockpit floor, especially as the whole episode was accompanied by excited Italian chatting and hand waving.
After leaving Ao Chalong we took 10 days sailing back to Langkawi, arriving on 14 January 1998.