Loggerhead

Phuket

Mon, 29 Dec 2008 09:06:42 GMT

The first day was a case of more of the same, the wind, at about twenty knots, created a fair wave height which slowed our progress slightly. We needed all the speed we could get as there was a tide against us, at worst it was 2.4 knots. The batten pocket repair allowed us to hoist the main to the second reef, it didn't flog and it provided the correct amount of power. We saw only a few ships that day none of which came particularly close. As the day went on the wind speed did reduce, as per the forecast. Our boat speed was good and we clocked up plenty of miles, but our progress towards Phuket was slow. We recorded and studied the current, looking for a weakness, but found none.

The first night passed uneventfully, next morning the wind rose again. Our distance to go figure reduced painfully slowly. We just had to grit our teeth and slog it out. Just after dark on the second evening we were both sitting in the cockpit when the backstay failed again, for the third time! This time a shackle broke. We had a new one in place in about fifteen minutes. These failures must be because of the strain the mast puts on the rigging whenever we slam into a wave. We wondered what else might be suffering.

Later that night a period of very light winds, depicted by the grib files, did eventually appear. We were delighted because we were then able to motor, directly at the waypoint. In the next 12 hours we managed to close the distance by 50 miles, which could have taken two days to sail.

At 4.30 the next morning the engine temperature warning light came on so we stopped the motor and sailed again, the wind had returned so it was appropriate in any case. I quickly went back to sleep, a few hours later I replaced the worn out impellor, and checked the engine, it was fine.

The distance between the two ports was only 209 miles, after two days we had sailed 270 but were still 100 short.

The third day was the same, wind from the north east, and current to the west. The afternoon saw the wind back slightly, our course improved and we began to be a bit more optimistic. We watched the numbers reduce slowly, 50,40,30 miles to go, when the figure was down to twenty we could just make out the sight of land though the haze. We still had plenty of diesel so the engine went on.

As we neared the coast we saw many fishing boats, as the sun went down they all lit up, they must have been fishing for calamari. I counted thirty five.

Our planned anchorage was a place called Ao Chalong, the customs and immigration had their base there. The pilot book warned against entering the bay at night, I presumed this was directed at yachts without plotters. We were in no mood to delay so we lined up for the channel between the small islands to the south of Phuket. There were few lights to be seen ashore, not a populated area I presumed. The chart was fairly plain, not many aids to navigation, so I was surprised to see so many port hand lateral marks. We motored towards them and they began to move, it was very dark so until they came quite close I had no idea what they were. They were fishing boats, sporting quick flashing red lights, and nothing else, and a new experience for me.

We found our anchorage, just before midnight and put down our Delta. It was quite shallow, and well sheltered. We could see countless yachts around us. I guessed a hundred. We normally save a gin and tonic or a cold beer for the arrival, but this time we had nothing. So after congratulating each other on crossing two oceans and visiting 17 countries we went to bed.

Next morning we moved nearer to the pier, a very long pier, so we would find it easier to scrounge a lift ashore. It took a while, eventually we succeeded. The clearance office was at the end of the pier. Several people were clearing in or out, we waited our turn.

The nearest street was full of shops and bars, the shops were mostly diving businesses and the bars all offered massages as well as beer. In the first bar I visited I was offered a condom with my beer, I gratefully accepted, as they really do work. This condom was a foam cup that your beer bottle sits in; it insulates it from the heat.

We enjoyed a Thai breakfast and then went for a walk; we found a small Rib manufacturer. They agreed to lend us one until we decided which model to buy. It fitted nicely on the foredeck so the next day I ordered one.

Christmas day was a little low key; we had a Thai meal in Chalong. Most of the shops and bars were open, although it was fairly quiet.

We made a few acquaintances, one Swedish chap took me on the back of his motorbike on a tour of the possible lift out sites, I decided which one I would prefer. We found the various agents for the parts that had to be replaced or repaired, although it was not as easy or cheap as I had expected. The local people are very friendly, and life is pleasant. We hired a small motorbike and took in some of the island; it was fun to get around. There was no sign of our Spanish friend, who apparently left Gan two days before we left Galle.

Sabang

Sun, 21 Dec 2008 21:57:20 GMT

When we left Galle we expected to make a single passage to Phuket, we did not expect to stop en route, but we did.

The eighth day was overcast and before darkness fell we could see lightning on the horizon; we felt that it was a good distance off. As we continued to sail the flashes came closer, bur we could not hear any thunder so we still assumed that all was well. Darkness fell, no moon and overcast skies so it was very black, no stars were visible. Our route became blocked by rain squalls some of which started to create flashes of electricity. We often alter course to avoid the rain but this time there were no gaps. We were left with no choice but to sail on, into the rain. As a precaution we placed our laptops, the hand held GPS and the Iridium phone in the oven. Not to cook, but as a defence against the damage a strike would cause. We had met several yachts that have been struck by lightening; the latest was Red Dragon, a super yacht with a 63 metre mast that arrived in Galle the day before we left. We were also approaching six degrees north, the latitude of the passage around Sumatra that the ships would take.

The rain began, and quickly became heavy; visibility was restricted to within the circle of light that the masthead navigation lights create. The wind increased as well, of course. We were on full alert, we watched the plotter for AIS information, and saw none; we transmitted radar every few minutes, but because of the rain saw no images. I also made VHF transmissions to advise any ship nearby of our position, all without response. When not doing these things, Charley and I stood back to back in the cockpit, trying to spot anything at all. Lightening was by now flashing all around us, each flash gave us a brief glimpse of the horizon for a split second before the brightness made our eyes hurt. This lasted for about three hours; we furled the genoa and motored slowly. Eventually, much to our relief, we found a clear patch and saw moonlight ahead. We began to relax and returned to sailing, for the rest of the night the sailing was good and the miles to go steadily reduced. We were delighted to be past that episode.

Next morning, the ninth day, the sailing was still good although the wind direction sent us more to the north; we came to within twenty miles of the Nicobar Islands, a closed group administered by India. We tacked south but at log time noticed that the current was 2.4 knots to the north west. Our speed towards Phuket was under two knots. We persevered and continued south east, the wind increasing all the time as we crossed the paths of the vessels about to use the Malacca Strait; they were well spread so it was not too difficult in daylight but at night it became more of a problem. The first ship to worry us was called Yang Ming Pine. (John Davitt please note!) I was on watch but Charley was with me in the cockpit, I looked aft because she faced forward, it was just after dusk. Charley spotted a ship ahead, quite close, coming straight at us; she had not seen it further away because it did not display any lights. I dashed below and saw via the AIS, the name of the ship and the closest point of approach, which was a few metres, I turned on our foredeck floodlight and then called them on the VHF, the officer replied, 'I will alter to port', I then advised him that he was not showing any lights, he seemed a bit surprised. We passed safely enough so I called him again a few minutes later to say that there were still no lights visible.

Throughout that day the wind steadily rose. During the afternoon, we had to tackle a problem with the main, the leech cord above second reef lost its outer coat, the inner piece was too narrow to hold it in the jammer and the second batten down was not in place as the pocket had previously worn through. So the sail flogged badly. I tied a line to the leech cord, but no matter how hard I tightened it, the flogging would not stop. This was because the slide to the head board was missing; the leech cord tightens against this. The solution was to drop the main and sew a new tape to the slide. I lashed most of the sail to the boom and lowered the rest onto the deck. Charley quickly did the repair and we hoisted the main again. All done in 25knots of wind while large waves passed by. The flogging was much better but I regularly had to tighten the securing line. The night was quite difficult; we marvelled at how the yacht dealt with the waves, there was an occasional slam and the odd splash in the cockpit, but we felt quite secure; sleeping was difficult though.

Next morning the slow progress continued, despite sailing quickly. We headed south east, Phuket was north east. We crossed the paths of a few ships, mostly without any difficulty except one Cosco ship called Empress Dragon which made us tack, no one responded to my VHF transmission.

We continued to move further to the south east, towards the islands to the west of Sumatra, part of Indonesia. I consulted the pilot book which said that some yachts have visited these islands, although permission should normally be sought in advance. The port of Sabang on Pulau Weh seemed to offer good shelter so we spent the rest of the day sailing there. The islands in this group are quite high so as soon as we drew close the shelter was welcome. We motored the last few miles and entered a small natural harbour. It was enclosed on three sides so the water was completely calm.

I called the harbour master once we had anchored. He soon brought all the usual officials, and an interpreter aboard. We flew the usual "Q" flag declaring that we were healthy; they asked us about the nature of our emergency, as yachts rarely call there.

I explained that we only wanted an overnight stay to shelter from the weather. After some good natured discussions, they agreed to charge us twenty five dollars each for our visas, and cleared us in. Not expecting this stop I did not have a courtesy flag for Indonesia. I solved this by turning the "H" flag on its side. We soon retired to bed and both slept for twelve hours without stirring.

Next morning we went ashore and explored the town. The people were friendly and most things seemed to be on sale. Being Muslim, alcohol was not common, but we did find some. We also bought bread and vegetables. The interpreter that came aboard with the customs and immigration guided us. The market was an eye opener; not for the squeamish.

Afterwards we sat at a nice looking cafe; the three of us had a good coffee for about 40 pence. We returned to Loggerhead, I did a couple of repairs, and when the rain relented we visited the harbour master and port health for our clearance. As we have seen with other countries in the Indian Ocean, life has still not returned to pre Tsunami times. There was tourism there, but not any more.

During the second night I had some back pain from an old rugby injury, the result of which meant that next morning I could not pull up the anchors, especially as we have no windlass. We managed by using the cockpit winches with lines led forward. The first anchor in brought a large piece of coral with it, not what we wanted.

We motored out to sea, raising the main as we went. The absolute calm of the harbour soon gave way to plenty of white water. The conditions and wind speed were much as they had been when we arrived, at least we were rested. The forecast led us to believe that the wind would soon abate. We hoped so.

Bay of Bengal

Tue, 16 Dec 2008 09:47:44 GMT

The Sri Lankan Navy escorted us out of the harbour. We motored south away from Galle in company with a couple of local fishing boats, maintaining a reasonable distance offshore along the south coast, moving east, and continued under power. After about six hours the wind made an appearance so we were able to give the engine a rest. A soon as we could sail I began to make fresh water, enough to fill our ready use bottles and a little for the tank.

For the first hundred miles we found that the current was helpful at one to two knots. The first night had a few rain clouds but, with the moon almost full, we could see them well enough to take avoiding action. We were pleased with the result, squalls and rain do no particular harm, they just drain morale slightly. We were expecting plenty of difficult nights so even one peaceful night was gratefully received.

The second day brought us a current from the north, building, until finally it was four knots. We shaped a course that would not let it reduce our speed over the ground, inevitably this pushed us south. We headed towards Australia for a while, amazingly only two thousand miles away. The day was overcast, and therefore a bit cooler, we expected the clouds to be unpleasant that night but again we were pleased to have a peaceful night, the current eased and became slightly helpful, we altered course to regain a position on the 6th parallel.

The amount of shipping was a surprise. For most of the Indian Ocean we have seen a ship every four or five days, but since leaving Sri Lanka we have rarely been able to see less than four or five ships, one or two of which caused us to alter course.

The third day was sunny and warm but in the afternoon low, rain bearing clouds began to form. Before darkness fell we had received our first shower and this set the pattern for the rest of the night. The moon illuminated the higher cloud against which we could see the lower, darker rain clouds. As we got nearer the wind speed increased and often changed direction many times, this made our passage making difficult. We reduced sail when the wind rose, but within a few minutes the wind would ease again. We saw several ships alter course to avoid sailing through the rain, it reduces the effectiveness of radar and of course the visibility in it is poor. The swell increased in size, due to the increased wind, and it became too noisy to sleep. This lasted all night. It's not that difficult to deal with but it became frustrating as it seemed that there was no end to it. Of course there was, just before the sun rose we sailed under some clear starlit sky and that was that.

Next day we were overtaken by a Japanese tanker called Takamine, it passed within a hundred metres of us, I only had the confidence to allow it that close because I monitored its course on my AIS reader. We could have tacked away from it but another tanker was coming in the opposite direction and we would have tacked into their path. At no time did we see anyone on the bridge of the Takamine. A tiny alteration to starboard would have left a much wider distance between us.

Our progress had been good until that time but then we noticed that the current had become two knots heading in a westerly direction. The wind also headed us so we had to beat upwind against a two knot current. Our VMG towards Phuket fell to two knots at best. Christmas in Thailand looked unlikely. We plodded on, trimming every last fraction of a knot out of the sails. The log entries showed us advancing towards the mark at eight or nine miles every four hours. After a couple of days of this the wind veered so we tacked and found we could lay a direct course, it didn't last long of course but it improved our morale. Nights four and five were both thought of as good ones, a bit of rain but no white knuckle rides through squalls.

We received an email from our friend Jorge who we met in Dar es Salaam; he left Gan in the Maldives two days before we left Galle, also heading for Phuket. We should arrive at about the same time.

The main sail had two worn patched along the luff. We needed them to last a bit longer, the repair I did to the halyard, sewing a piece of hose over it, seems to have prevented chafe.

On the sixth day the wind died so we motored for a while, the batteries had retained a good charge due to the wind generator providing plenty of input. We have not needed to tow the Aquavane. There seems to be little wildlife for us to look at, we have seem a few small dolphins but not much more, there is an unusual amount of litter in the sea, this must be due to the great quantity of ships.

Charley practised and perfected chapatti making, many of our meals have an Asian origin.

Ideally a cruising yacht would have made this passage a month or two earlier before the north east monsoon had well and truly set in. Some of the yachts we met in Galle are waiting for the next season, the south west monsoon, which starts in February. We are fortunate to be able to sail so well to windward.

These rain cloud systems vary in size and power, the first thing we noticed, when one approached, if we couldn't see it, was a back in the wind, typically 40 or 50 degrees. Then a slight drop in the wind speed, followed by light rain, increasing to heavy rain and strong winds as we sailed further into it. A small one at 500 metres across, may have little extra wind inside it, the larger ones have been several miles across and can be quite ferocious. The opposite is also true, you just can't tell.

It was one of these large systems that we entered on the sixth afternoon; the notable thing was the quantity of rain it released. This set the tone for the rest of the night, we were regularly soaked, and some of the wind speeds required us to reduce sail to three reefs. This continued into the next day. Time after time sails were trimmed to the wind speed, only to see the wind change yet again.

Later that day the wind eased so much that we resorted to motoring; we were in the lee of the island of Sumatra. As we headed north the weather improved slightly, there were still plenty of rain squalls but above them the background was lighter. The light airs also gave the sea state a chance to calm.

After seven days at sea we were within 400 miles of Phuket, we felt relaxed about the rest of the journey, the only mentionable breakage was the webbing on the top slide on the mainsail, allowing the headboard to fly free of the mast; not too serious.

Sri Lanka

Mon, 08 Dec 2008 11:06:32 GMT

We completed formalities with the customs and immigration - the agent did all the work -, and then began to explore. On our first visit to the city we walked, there were plenty of the three wheeler taxis, known here as a "tuk-tuk", but we had no local currency, so we walked. It wasn't far in any case.

The streets were very crowded with almost everything on sale. We spotted the odd tourist or non local but they were rare. I managed to find a working ATM and withdrew 3000 rupees. The machines here are guarded, as in Africa; they obviously don't trust each other not to try to steal them. The fact that in the rest of the world people don't steal them means it's quite difficult. So why not act the same? We bought some fresh produce and returned to the port, the tuk-tuk cost 100 rupees, about 60 pence. I then calculated that I had withdrawn about the equivalent of 18 pounds.

Over the next few days we did all the normal things for us. We met some other cruisers; there were three Dutch, one French and an Australian yacht present, all trying to head east. Apparently one of the Dutch yachts had previously left Galle sailing east but returned when they discovered that the current was five knots in the wrong direction, something for us to consider.

There were many strange things for us to take in, none stranger than the sight of cows walking about. I couldn't understand why would they want to be so near cars and lorries? It was bizarre.

During one stroll around the city we noticed a tourist information office, it was closed as it was Sunday but a man, obviously paid to spot tourists, approached us and said that we should visit the manager at his house, where he would be pleased to see us. Reluctantly we went by tuk-tuk, together with a guide. We met Lal, who took us into his home and showed us film of some of the attractions the island had to offer, we discussed an itinerary. We booked a three day two night excursion, costing 380 US dollars.

Next day we went back to the tourist information office and met Lal again, he walked with us around the Dutch built fort that was nearby, acting as our guide. The first Europeans to rule Sri Lanka were Portuguese, followed by the Dutch and then, as is common across the whole Indian ocean, the British. The British who left in 1948 called the island Ceylon, we were surprised to see the name still used on many buildings. Immediately outside the dock is a police station, still called Ceylon Police.

We met Lal and a driver, Pradeep, at five o'clock the next morning outside the port, it was still dark. We then began a magical three days. There was, in honesty, too much driving, the roads are busy and safety is ignored, so distances seem extended, but the scenery is stunning. This is an ancient culture so people live in most of the spaces available, but there is obviously a respect for nature and the environment, everywhere seemed pleasant. Few resources seemed abused.

Our first stop was at a Buddhist temple at Dickwella where we saw many sculptures on Buddhist themes, we continued on to a national park called Uda Walawa, Lal had arranged a land rover to take us on a three hour safari. After paying the entrance fee we collected a ranger from his hut, the bush was very green due to the plentiful rainfall. We saw several wild elephants and actually got quite close to some of them. There were buffalos, peacock, monkeys and antelopes as well. It was very hot in the sun so we were pleased to get back in the shade at the entrance where we changed vehicles again.

The drive north continued. Unfortunately, we had not gone very far when a young girl ran out from behind a bus and despite braking and trying to avoid her, our vehicle struck her. She was about eight years old and wearing her school uniform. We took her to a nearby hospital; she had several nasty grazes but was otherwise well enough. We left her with her mother at the hospital and continued.

The roads were busy, dogs and pedestrians everywhere, Pradeep seemed to take too many chances, overtaking on blind bends and rises.

The road ascended through countless bends, we could feel the change in temperature as we climbed, suddenly people were wearing jackets, and then we saw the first tea plantation, just before dusk. Our destination was a place called Nuwara Eliya, known locally as 'Little England'. There were many similarities, we saw many large houses built during British rule, 1815-1948, there was a race course, and a golf course all placed carefully amongst the fields of tea plants. Due to the constant attention a tea plantation has a manicured look, similar to an ornamental garden, so the overall effect is one of order and beauty. We stopped at a tea factory called Mackwoods, established in 1841. After a tour with a lady called Sunnita we drank some of their product and bought a few small boxes to remind us. The machinery was forty or fifty years old but it still functioned well enough.

We continued, descending this time until we eventually arrived in Kandy and went straight to our hotel. Dinner and a couple of beers, then not enough sleep, the next morning came too soon.

Another long and difficult drive, after about four hours we arrived at Polonnaruwa. Discovered by the British, while building the railway to Trincomalee in the nineteen thirties. A very large area still only a quarter excavated, containing many temples, palaces and parliament type buildings from the eleventh century onwards. Many of the buildings are in good condition having been buried for many years. Identification was aided by the descriptions cut into stone on many of the buildings. They all lie on a plain protected by an enormous dam, built by paid, rather than forced labour. Another notable feature is that the kings built their palaces on new sites leaving older ones where they stood. There was too much to take in with only a few hours allocated. After a quick look at a wood carving factory we departed for Sigiriya, A later king's defensive bastion. The rock upon which he built his home is over two hundred metres high. On a hot day it was quite an effort to climb to the top. It was all a pointless exercise for him because he committed suicide, and no other king used it.

After that we dashed back to Kandy just in time to take our seats at a theatre of traditional Sri Lankan dancing. I captured much of the action on video; it was stunning. They then performed fire eating and fire walking which was not really necessary, we were already delighted with what we had seen.

Next morning we walked around Kandy before visiting the Tooth Relic Temple. This is Sri Lanka's most important Buddhist shrine. There were many people paying their respects to a casket purporting to contain one of Buddha's teeth, discovered following his cremation in India. This was all news to me. Apparently Buddhists do not believe in a god as such, they merely follow his doctrine. Compare that with Hindus, who also have a temple inside the tooth relic site, who worship 33,000 gods. Personally I'm with Richard Dawkins, but each to his own.

We then began the long drive back to Galle, missing out a few possible stops as we were exhausted; another time we told ourselves, we had after all seen four of Sri Lanka's seven world heritage sites.

Several locals recounted harrowing tales of how they survived the tsunami in 2004, apparently there had been no warning, so when the water receded (about one and a half kilometres,) before the waves arrived, many people wandered out to collect shellfish or just enjoy the novelty of seeing the sea so low. In Galle the water then rose to the tops of the houses. Many died.

When we returned to Galle after the tour, we found that the Australian yacht had departed, so we sought and were granted permission to move Loggerhead to the place it had occupied. We rafted outside the French yacht, an Ovni, the owners were away. It was much quieter at night, also nearer the showers and main gate.

We began to consider a departure. Cyclone number 7 for the season, a rather weak affair, was forming on our route, so we waited. I snorkelled under the hull, removing as much weed growth as I could. The cyclone caused the Sri Lanka navy to recall their warships into Galle. I counted a dozen more boats than is usual.

The cyclone did not come to much; the max wind was only about 45 knots. We did our final shop and departed for Thailand, expecting a difficult passage.

Galle

Sat, 29 Nov 2008 06:14:55 GMT

Our friend Ibrahim is worth a mention, proudly Muslim he seemed to pity us for not sharing his beliefs. One day we talked about the Tsunami in 2004 and its affect on the Maldives. Surprisingly few were killed. There is a story that a small baby, washed away by a wave was supported by dolphins until rescued by humans. Ibrahim added that he thought dolphins were good animals that were without a doubt Muslim. He also stated that 100% of Muslims would go to heaven. We agreed.

There were no gaps in the strong winds forecast by the grib files, so we took the ferry to Male a few times, we soon tired of that. Rain became more common, not showers but torrential downpours; we funnelled some into our water tank. An Australian flagged yacht called Castalia arrived in the lagoon; we met the people in Male the next day. The owner was Australian but the other three were English. They had transited the Suez Canal, managing to avoid the Somali pirates. I thought one chap's accent was familiar so I asked him where he was from and he replied Bexleyheath, less than five miles from my hometown.

Tired of waiting we decided to deal with what ever the weather gave us, so we cleared out and motored East. The first day was fairly windless; in fact we motored for 18 hours out of the first 24. At least the batteries got a good charge. I made water during the brief sail. The water maker shares its inlet with the engine so I can't use both at the same time. I intend to change that arrangement one day.

We could see the loom of the lights at Male for 70 miles that first night. There was no moon and so it was very dark. It was surprisingly peaceful though; we expected squalls but the sky remained clear.

The next day the wind was just enough to allow us to sail but progress was slow. The current began to turn against us. There were frequent rainy spells; we took the opportunity to have a wash under one of them. We also collected some of the rain for clothes washing. The second night was also pleasant, just one rainy patch. The use of the engine persuaded me to stop at Galle in Sri Lanka for diesel. It was almost on our rhumb line to Phuket and 400 miles out.

The pilot books don't recommend a visit but I decided to take a chance. Getting ashore would be interesting without a dinghy. There were none to be had in Male.

It would also be a break for us, hopefully.

The third night was not so pleasant, the wind increased to twenty knots and eventually the swell had us corkscrewing. During one squall, with the wind topping thirty knots, we surfed down a wave at 9.8 knots. Our course was directly down wind, we tried to find the most comfortable angle to steer to, but it was difficult to keep straight as the waves kept pushing the stern to one side. The rain squalls brought even more wind, so not a night of happy memories. The moon rose about ten minutes before the sun, not much use! When it is overcast and there are no stars to steer by steering by instruments alone is difficult and tiresome.

The next day was a bit better but the swell is ever present.

That day I noticed a batten sticking through its pocket in the main sail. Yet another pocket repair but at least we saved the batten. There were a few more small failures, the shackle on the topping lift came open and was lost, and then during the fourth night the main halyard chaffed through and disappeared into the mast. This must have been caused by the wave action, when we roll the main backs and fills, making a most annoying noise. We replaced the halyard with the topping lift and hoisted the sail again. It had chaffed before but never to destruction and I hadn't found the cause when I had looked for it at the masthead.

I noticed in the pilot book that Sri Lanka is five and a half hours ahead of GMT. Why bother with half an hour? As we drew nearer the timing became more critical. It was Friday and if we could arrive during office hours we could expect to be cleared in, otherwise it could mean waiting until Monday. Thirty miles to go and the wind lessened. We motored to keep up five knots.

At ten miles to go I spoke to port control, the chap advised that I could contact the agent, Windsor's, on channel 69. A few minutes later someone called me on 69, I couldn't tell who it was as the signal was so bad. I just understood enough to answer a few questions, like passport number.

A good guide to the prosperity of a country is the standard of their small fishing boats. The ones we saw as we approached the harbour would not have looked out of place in Cornwall.

We passed the first buoy, as is common, a safe water mark, at 3.20 pm local time; Charley and I were both busy preparing fenders and warps. We then motored between the red and green lateral marks. We were soon approached by a rigid dinghy, with a difference; this one had a machine gun mounted on it. One of the two young men, not much more than boys, waved us to a shallow area and suggested we anchor. I was busy on the foredeck when another small craft approached and two men in Navy uniform boarded us.

The usual questions then a search, a bit more thorough this time; I fended off the subtle hints requesting cigarettes or alcohol with the pretence of poverty. It was all very friendly though. The two chaps then suggested we motor into the inner harbour with them on board. We passed a lookout tower bristling with machine guns and saw ahead two different styles of floating booms. We entered through the gap and then moored Mediterranean style to a floating plastic pontoon. At least we could land without a dinghy. Two young men from the agents were waiting on the pontoon. More form filling took place, and then they departed. Half an hour later they returned suggesting we go with them to immigration and the port security. This we did. The people were all very pleasant, everyone we saw said hello. We returned to the yacht and after a while two customs officers boarded. It was obvious that they were disappointed; we declared that we had no restricted goods at all. We did have a bottle of gin and several bottles of tonic in the fridge, chilling, but I did not intend that they would last long. As soon as we were alone we poured ourselves a drink and sat in the cockpit enjoying the vista. We could see the town across the harbour and a surprisingly busy road leading to it. There were palm trees and hills with some stylish architecture dotted about. At dusk they closed the boom and all the patrol boats came in. I counted ten. All the personnel seemed poised to expect action at any moment.

We turned in early that night. I must have been asleep for about three hours when I heard the first explosion. The pilot book suggested that the practice of dynamiting the harbour to deter Tamil Tiger frogmen was a thing of the past; not so. We had heard, or rather felt, dynamite shocks in Tanzania. It was used by locals to destroy the marine ecology, under the pretext of fishing, but that was at some distance away. It felt like a shroud had snapped, or someone had hit a shroud with a spanner. This was only yards away; it jarred the fillings in your teeth. I also heard rifles fired into the water. This went on all night; I immediately revised my plan to stay for several days.

Male

Sun, 23 Nov 2008 08:42:56 GMT

The wind in the atoll blew constantly; there were no calm periods in the first five days. The Fortress anchor dragged one night but fortunately I had put out the recovered Delta, more to get it out of the cockpit than to lie to it. It was attached to an aft cleat, so when it took up we laid across the wind. In the morning I could see the problem, the Fortress had also fouled a gullet�s anchor. We moved the aft warp forward and then buoyed the Fortress, The bow turned towards the Delta and we motored ahead slowly while I recovered it. It was hard work as there was no windlass to assist me. While we were doing this The Gullet, which had just taken aboard about a dozen tourists, decided to weigh anchor. We watched as their second anchor, which had been laid too far away, was recovered, tangled with our Fortress. They had four young men on their bow so without too much difficulty they soon dropped our anchor and motored away. We then recovered it, and I decided to connect both the anchors. They were then laid out carefully and for the first time since arriving in Male I was confident we were secure.

We enjoyed a trip to Male on most days, one day we spent washing and attending to small jobs, for example one of the lenses on the deck level navigation lights had been lost so I replaced the whole fitting. Whilst doing this I noticed that a split pin, new in Cape Town, had almost rusted away. The forestay relied on this pin. I also took the opportunity to snorkel around the yacht, removing the worst of the growth from the waterline.

Another day, Ibrahim, a local chap that we had befriended, who was working on a charter boat, took us in his ski boat to one of the nearby resorts. These resorts, often all inclusive, are where most of the tourists spend their holiday. The accommodation is usually luxurious, all amenities are to hand, add to this beautiful beaches warm sea, and sunshine, the result is most peoples idea of a good time.

After five days we were beginning to think about departing. The weather had other ideas. To the east the forecast had too much wind so we waited.

I found a marine electronics outlet in Male so I took the opportunity to buy some aerial cable for the SSB. The reconnection took a couple of hours after which we able to listen to our favourite stations again.

The rain, forecast on the internet, arrived; dark clouds covered us that evening. We turned in just after nine pm but were awoken at midnight by our friend Ibrahim; he had very thoughtfully brought us two ice creams. I thanked him and threw them into the fridge, they were already soft. We went back to sleep, on either side of the saloon, the noise in the aft cabin was too much to bear. About an hour later we were awakened again, this time by wind noise. Fortunately Charley heard it; I had ear plugs in and would have slept through most things. Rain lashed the cabin roof; sleepily I suggested to Charley that she should switch on the instrumentation so that we could see exactly how much wind we had. The button is in the aft cabin, Charley turned it on. We tend to leave the chart table multi, or general display, set to display the wind speed. It does not give an accurate figure for some moments after being turned on. The speed recorded seems to increase in three knot increments.

It eventually settled at around twenty five knots. We peered through as many openings as we could, trying to see what was going on around us, without success, we could see nothing. I opened the hatch and stuck my head out into the rain. I saw a large yacht, one that we had been used to seeing a respectable distance away, only yards in front of us. I could see our first anchor buoy, it seemed to be to the port side of the yacht, and we seemed to be slightly to starboard of the sloop. This vessel was at least ten times the weight of our yacht. It had several deck lights illuminated so it stood out well against the rain. I had no idea what to do, or what was happening. If it dragged any more we would lose our anchors. I started our engine and turned the helm to port, I applied a little throttle and slowly the aspect of the large vessel shifted to starboard. I had seen a watchman on the after deck of this yacht on other evenings but I could see none this night. We shouted to attract their attention but quickly returned to attending to our plight. We drew abeam of the yacht and Charley then took the helm. Lightening illuminated the whole anchorage several times. The thunder was almost instantaneous. I rushed forward and began pulling in the anchor rode. Several times we came close to clashing with the larger vessel as it swung in the wind. I pulled as hard as I could. Eventually I must have lifted the Delta off the bottom as we moved away a little. I picked up the buoy from the fortress anchor with the boat hook and began raising this too. As soon as it was clear of the bottom we moved to a safe distance. Soon the rain began to ease a little; we motored to a new position and began securing ourselves to the bottom. Eventually we retired below to dry ourselves and to consider how close we had been to serious damage. Tea was taken to calm our nerves. If we�d had any alcohol we�d have drunk it then. An hour or so later we turned in again.

All the pilot books describe the poor anchorages in the Maldives, we can attest to that fact. We were keen to leave but there was too much wind on our route, so we waited.

Maldives

Sun, 16 Nov 2008 09:12:06 GMT

The wind direction was kind to us and for the next day or so it backed enough for us to lay Mali directly. The current was against by about a knot but our boat speed easily overcame that. At about eight o�clock on the 14^th of November I first sighted the built up part of Mali. There were many more buildings than I expected. The pilot books advised that we should call the coast guard first, so I did, and after a few questions the chap suggested I call port control on channel 10. I tried repeatedly but there was no answer. I called any station for a signal check and received a reply from a ship at anchor; the officer advised me that there was a public holiday so I would not raise port control.

I decided to enter the lagoon and anchor. The number of ships at anchor was quite a surprise, too many to count. We motored past many local ferries, speeding about, and spent a while trying to find a shallow spot. The depth is mostly around 50 metres in the lagoon. There were so many ships all the best places had been taken. We did find one shallow place but when the wind got up a little later we could understand why no one else had anchored there. Wind against tide set up an amazing chop.

Just after lunchtime a launch hailed us, the security wanted to check us out, two smart chaps came aboard and the form filling began. They were very pleasant and a bit embarrassed that they had to search what was obviously our home. The search was minimal, and soon they departed, they advised us that an agent had been appointed on our behalf and he would most likely contact us after lunch. An hour or so later the agent called us on channel 16 and took down some details; I emailed him a crew list. A couple of hours later, when it was looking like we would be held up overnight, a boat approached with someone waving, this turned out to be the agent I had spoken to. The swell was too big for them to board so they asked me to bring the necessary documents and board them. I gathered the papers and donned a lifejacket. The boat came alongside and I jumped on. More form filling, all done as quickly as possible, and we were cleared in. They took me back to Loggerhead and the agent suggested we anchor in a lagoon north of the airport. As soon as they left I began to take the anchor warp in. I quickly discovered that it was not going to be easy. I managed to pull enough warp in so that I could see the chain but no more. We motored around and around. We had anchored in about 15 metres but no matter what we did, we could not get the chain on the windlass. I paid out some line and tried to motor around what ever the obstruction was, we used increasingly more and more power. I began to suspect that we would break the multiplatt line but the windlass broke first. We continued for a bit more until I decided to buoy the line and leave the anchor where it was. It was now dark and the entrance to the lagoon, where we hoped it would be more sheltered, was apparently hard to find. We motored away wondering what had trapped the anchor. Was it coral or a wreck?

The entrance to the lagoon was hard to find, they were right. So we stood off and watched and then followed a ferry in. There were many super yachts there at anchor, three deck motor cruisers mostly. We motored around in the dark until we found a suitable spot and anchored. We had only the spare fortress and ten metres of chain. Fortunately the holding was good, we stayed put despite an uncomfortable swell that kept us awake. The waves kept slapping against the stern. I was up several times during the night, checking that we were not dragging.

Next morning Charley waved down a passing rib and asked them if we could have a lift ashore. The ferry terminal was close by and we were soon on our way to the main island. We found the agents office and also withdrew some cash from an ATM. Charley shopped while the agent took me on the back of his motorbike to several chandlers trying to find a new inflatable dinghy. None were to be had, although I did see several anchors that would have been adequate replacements. I asked the agent if he could procure a diver to retrieve my buoyed anchor. He began to make telephone calls. After lunch and a bit of shopping we returned to Loggerhead, fairly soon I received a text advising me that a diver had been instructed to recover our anchor and that we should return to the place where we left it. We motored in the direction of the buoyed anchor until we received another call directing us to where the boat that had by now retrieved the anchor lay. We drew alongside and the anchor was handed over. In return I handed over 2000 rufiyaa, about 100 pounds. We took the opportunity to ask the diver where the best place to snorkel was. He suggested Banana reef, we made a note.

Being quite a strict Muslim country there was not a drop of alcohol on sale anywhere, our supplies began to diminish. We bought fresh eggs, salad and bread, also teabags.

The island had a nice feel to it, the people are �Indian� in appearance and very friendly. Every square metre has been built upon and on the frontage, which is on the inside of the atoll, the buildings are quite grand and several stories tall. There are many thousands of motorbikes; it is difficult to cross any road because you must first find a gap between the parked bikes. Prices in the shops were very reasonable, despite the fact that everything is imported.

Crossing the Line

Thu, 13 Nov 2008 12:03:12 GMT

We spent the next three days enjoying the Robinson Crusoe lifestyle for two, on islands Takamaka and Fouquet exploring and snorkelling; we cleared up more litter from the Isis, and just relaxed. One afternoon we swam around another wrecked yacht that we had spotted on the chart; it was completely submerged. We estimate its length to be about 70 feet, so a sizeable vessel. Its name was not readable unfortunately; it was of steel and had twin screws. At one point I swam inside the hull, most of the deck was missing, an enormous fish darted out, I must have invaded its territory.

We continued to monitor the weather until the day before we planned to depart when I decided to re-anchor over sand. All went according to plan and just to be sure I laid out a spare anchor with the dinghy. One or two of the nights had been a bit sleepless due to squalls passing overhead. Laying that close to coral makes sleeping difficult at the best of times.

A leisurely breakfast followed by preparations for sea, a final look at the weather and we motored across the atoll, then out though the same gap that we entered, bound for Male in the Maldives.

The wind was southwest and light so progress was slow, to begin with. We actually motored a couple of times when completely becalmed. Diesel was now not an issue as we intended to add a pit stop.

As the night went on the wind veered to the west and increased to the point where we rarely dropped below 7 knots. The sea was quite flat; to begin with this was pleasurable. We reefed in good time, as always, but the boat speed remained the same, seven knots plus, even when the waves began to increase in size.

We continued to stand our watches although sleep was difficult for the off duty person. The base wind that the grib files described was about 15 knots but the clouds add their own wind to this. This is normally about ten knots but can be more for a violent system. Sometimes we counted as many a ten of these systems around us, all with rain below them. Most of them we managed to avoid but inevitably one or two would roll over us.

The miles per watch figure was very encouraging, we passed Gan the former RAF station and the most southerly atoll of the Maldives in under two days, the distance run was 286 miles, excellent after such a slow start. We found that mobile phones worked near Gan so Charley sent some texts. The next milestone was the equator; we enjoyed our last two bottles of Sey Brew beer by way of celebration.

The base wind rose that evening to twenty knots, we put two reefs in the main and continued to make good progress, the next atoll was almost forty miles long and it afforded us some shelter from the waves. The night also brought rain clouds. Once north of the atoll the shelter was lost, the waves were on our port beam meaning an uncomfortable roll. I was sleeping in the saloon on the starboard side, one of the rolls caused objects to leave the chart table and cross the cabin to land on me. I quickly dressed to join Charley in the cockpit. Apparently a couple of waves had broken over the yacht causing this dangerous roll.

We discovered when it became light that the deflated dinghy had been washed away. The wind was only 25 knots but I could see some unpleasant waves coming between the two atolls. We reefed the main a third time, unfortunately a new double block holding the third reefing line broke at the mast boot. I discussed our options with Charley, it was about four a.m. The moon had just set so it was very dark. We decided to turn back and seek shelter beneath the last atoll. It was about five miles away. We tacked the boat and within half an hour a large system had rolled over us, the wind quickly rose to 35 knots. Charley completely furled the genoa, while I helmed, pinching slightly to mitigate the wind. As she did so, the tidy holding the furling line came away from the pulpit. The rain drenched us. This continued for the next half an hour after which it slowly eased to about 25 knots. The sun brightened the sky but was not visible. With three reefs in the main and no genoa we lashed the wheel to starboard and hove to. We both went below, soaked to the skin even though we were wearing oilies. We dried ourselves, made tea, had breakfast and waited. Our drift was just over a knot parallel with the atoll. After a couple of hours we resumed sailing north. The waves between the atolls were decreasing rapidly. This is sailing in the ITCZ.

Progress was much slower now but we were pleased to be finished with all that rough stuff. During the day we tried to catch up on sleep after one or two small repairs. The next night was perfect, steady wind and no squalls; we presumed that we were through the zone. The next day the wind began to behave like the forecast, i.e. light. So we occasionally motored. The current pushed us east and for a while we contemplated missing out the Maldives and heading for Sri Lanka.

Salomon Islands

Fri, 07 Nov 2008 11:21:36 GMT

After breakfast we loaded the dinghy with survival equipment and motored the half a mile or so to the beach. There is a jetty shown on the chart but we could see it was not usable. Charley waded in front of the dinghy for the last few yards before we found beach proper. The sand was just like a holiday brochure, perfect. Within 10 metres the tree line was predominantly coconut, with so many fallen coconuts they piled up upon each other. We tied the dinghy to a tree and began to walk along the beach. There was no sign of recent human activity. After a few minutes we came upon some trees that had been painted white, with writing on, describing the way to a cemetery, we followed the route and found the graveyard, it was very similar to the one on La Digue in the Seychelles. Most of the names were French from the late nineteenth century. We took a few photographs, there were a surprising number of children's graves, and continued. There was almost no evidence of recent occupation but there was plenty of sea born litter that had ended up on the island. The three biggest culprits were, of course, empty plastic bottles, flip flops, and fishing floats, with Japanese lettering.

We would have liked to collect all this rubbish but it was too big a task for two people. I collected a few coconuts instead.

We finished circumnavigating the island, Isle du Coin, and then took the dinghy back to the yacht, tired but pleased with our experience.

Next morning we set off for Salomon, but not before an almighty tussle with the anchors. It took an hour of struggling and determination to retrieve them from the coral. When almost aboard the ratchet on the windlass failed, we were lucky the whole affair didn't run out again.

We motored for a couple of hours glancing back occasionally at Peros Banos, until a decent breeze set in, the sailing was then noticeably better after the bottom scrub. The distance run was thirty miles. We visually found the entrance to the Salomon atoll.

I positioned the yacht according to the plotter and then went to the bow to spot rocks while Charley steered. The least depth below the keel was 3.4 metres, not so difficult. We then found deeper water, at about twenty metres, and motored a mile and a half across the lagoon. We soon saw a partially sunken yacht, this was the Isis. We met people from two boats in the Seychelles that were present when it foundered, they told us the story. The Isis dragged during a squall, apparently while without an engine. The owners were fined for not having a permit and then taken to Diego Garcia, having told those present to help themselves to anything useful on the yacht. We found plenty of gear ashore, mostly junk, floorboards etc. but there were some useful things as well.

We then spent an hour snorkeling. The coral and marine life were absolutely wonderful. At first we were disappointed that there were no other yachts, but we gradually changed our minds. The tranquillity was wonderful, the birds are so tame you can easily get to within three or four feet of them as they sit on the rail, and the fish have obviously become used to humans feeding them, some of them swim constantly around the yacht. That evening Charley prepared yet another dish from Dorado but when I threw the scraps over the side a couple of small sharks appeared.

We heard on the news that the House of Lords had overturned a decision to allow the original islanders to return.

Next morning we made fresh water from salt and began washing our dirty clothes. I went ashore and burnt our rubbish, together with some of the junk from Isis. I would like to leave the island in its natural state, with no sign of man, but that will be difficult. I also wandered around trying to spot some of the wild chickens, I could hear them in the undergrowth, but not get near them. I returned to Loggerhead just as a rain cloud passed overhead. I laid out a spare anchor just in case.

The reason we are alone here is the time of year, most yachts head East to West, but west of here the weather is changing for the worse, and Cyclones tend to occur around Madagascar from November onwards. For us heading east that is less of a problem there will be cyclones in the Bay of Bengal but our weather information should allow us to miss them. We spent the rest of the day attending to small jobs or relaxing, late afternoon we began to swim ashore until I pointed out to Charley that the two Black tip reef sharks were swimming around us. Charley was out of the water in a flash. She ran up the transom like it was a flight of stairs.

Next morning after breakfast Charley did more washing while I repaired the cooker, I had to disconnect it, and take a side off, then drill out the pin that held the button it pivoted on. A simple nut and bolt acted as a fix and the cooker rocked again. I also stripped the windlass, the pawls had become stiff with salt, an easy job, oil and put back. We had a windlass again. After lunch we went ashore, burnt more rubbish from the Isis and went for a walk.

We have often approached islands thinking they were uninhabited, but they never were. These islands were different; the nearest humans to here will have been at Diego Garcia 130 miles to the south. This created a special atmosphere. The beauty of these islands was staggering; many people have described them to us, but none of them had done them justice. I can fully understand why people have remained here for months at a time.

Our supplies held out surprisingly well, sixteen days out of the Seychelles and we ate the last tomato. The gin had all gone, but we still had vodka. The fresh cheese had gone but we still had some tinned processed and some long life feta. The one resource that was plentiful at Chagos was coconuts. It was hard work to get the husk off, but with practice it became easier.

We saw a weather opportunity on the grib files, ideally we would have remained longer but three days of westerly wind right up to the equator was tempting. It was amazing to consider that we would soon be back in the northern hemisphere.

Peros Banos

Mon, 03 Nov 2008 09:23:40 GMT

The next three nights were dark and overcast making helming difficult, we both wished for stars to steer by, but saw none. I resorted to my ipod to insulate me from the conditions. We gradually moved north and the situation improved. On the ninth day we landed a large Dorado, Charley filmed the episode for posterity, and U-tube, once the nudity is edited out. I cut some fillets to sun dry, the rest into steaks, we dined well that night, Dorado is rightly prized as the best tasting game fish.

The days passed quickly, helming for twelve hours out of twenty four does not leave enough time to do other things. The fresh bread having been eaten, Charley used one of our bread mix's; unfortunately it was too old and the yeast did not make it rise.

Another small highlight was seeing a sperm whale, easily recognized, as uniquely amongst whales, when it blows the spout is directed forward rather than up. Next day we saw a very large number of dolphins, unusually there were two types of dolphins together in a group, we had not seen this before.

We had some good days sailing, during one the wind backed enough for us to fly a spinnaker. It increased our speed from 3 to 5 knots. But we had more windless periods as well, we did motor for a few hours, but then we dropped the sails and rolled in the swell. The sea was almost flat but it does not take very big waves to set up quite a motion.

Charley made fish cakes, amongst other things, and then when we were within 50 miles of Peros Banos, I caught another Dorado. We did plan to pass the Peros Banos atoll the next morning on our way to the Saloman group of islands, but the wind died again and so we waited, and rolled.

Next morning the wind backed and increased enough for us to sail. The miles to go figure was frustratingly low, less than thirty, so when the wind died again I decided to motor the rest. We had lost the opportunity of reaching the Saloman islands during daylight so we decided to enter Peros Banos and enjoy a decent nights sleep, gin and tonic, etc. We only use the Raymarine plotter at log time as the power usage is a bit high, but when we were quite close I noticed an AIS target on it, within the atoll. This was the Pacific Marlin, a small ship acting as guardian for the islands.

We threaded our way between the banks and when within 200 metres of the Pacific Marlin we anchored. The depth was 25 metres, which was as shallow as we could find. I could hardly hold the weight on the chain as I paid out.

We were quickly into the water for a swim; I began cleaning the growth under the boat. Charley joined me for a while before we tired and returned to the cockpit. Cold beers all round.

A rib came towards us from the Pacific Marlin, they did not speak to us merely reading the name of our yacht on the transom, before speeding off again. All vessels visiting these islands must gain permission and pay in advance. I dealt with that aspect from Tanzania. We did meet several other cruisers who did not come here because they could not be bothered to get a permit. Their loss as far as I am concerned. Apparently some boats remained here semi permanently; a small charge resolved that issue.

After our first whole nights sleep for some time we woke early and had breakfast before snorkelling under the boat. There was quite a lot of weed growth to attend to, unfortunately we tend to take antifouling off with the rubbing, but that can't be helped. It was too windy to venture ashore that day in the dinghy because the distance was about half a mile. If for some reason the outboard engine stopped I would struggle to row that far against a strong breeze, and there is nobody here to help.

We spent the day relaxing, cooking, reading and enjoying the view. I also tried to dry my ipod which had stopped due to water ingress during one of the showers.

Next morning we went ashore.

Noon Pos. 27/10/089 06.14S 064.19E

Mon, 27 Oct 2008 21:39:59 GMT

While we waited in Mahe the first cyclone of the season formed just West of Chagos. The Americans named it Asma. Fortunately it moved south, and weakened after a few days allowing us to depart. We booked out with the various departments, the Immigration promised to deliver our passports at 1500 hours but when I called them on the VHF at 1615 their office was closed. We were pleased in a way as the wind was quite strong and another night in the harbour was preferable to getting wet. Another yacht, "Jade" was also hoping to leave. We re-inflated our dinghy and joined them for a second eve of departure celebration. Next morning we motored to the Coast guard pontoon and called immigration again. They eventually arrived with our passports, we were expected to leave right away. Most countries allow up to 72 hours for a vessel to depart. I was pleased to leave I didn't really like the Seychelles.

Once away from the main island the wind at South-westerly sixteen to twenty knots ensured steady progress. We broad reached, our destination was just south of east and just like the previous leg was one thousand miles away. Our problem quickly became keeping out of the sun; it is so powerful at the latitude that burning is a real threat. We quickly settled into our normal watch pattern. The second day provided perfect sailing in light winds. Progress was a bit slower but still good. I took the opportunity to run the water maker for three hours, half filling the aft tank. On the third day the wind headed us and all but disappeared. We continued sailing, often at one or two knots. The sea surface became glassy. Entertainment arrived in the form of six Dorados, or Dolphin fish. They swam with us all day. The water was so clear we could see that there was one male and five females. The males have a pronounced bulge on the top of their heads. As we approached schools of flying fish the Dorado would dart off to feed. I had wondered why they were called dolphin fish, now I know. I resisted the temptation to troll a lure; we had so much fresh food, fish was not necessary.

The notion of a fast passage soon disappeared; the wind on the fourth day was again very light. I could see more wind to the south on the grib files that I downloaded with my Iridium phone, so we went looking for it.

The auto pilot ram had been displaying signs of wear, I confirmed this by exchanging emails with Raymarine, so we chose to hand steer, only using the pilot to reef sails when alone.

The heat during the day meant we both found it difficult to sleep when off watch. The nights were looked forward to.

Late on the fourth day we found some wind and our spirits rose, our countdown distances began to pass again. 750, 700 then 600 miles to go. It didn't last.

The nights were very dark with only a small section of the moon making an appearance in the early hours. We often saw lightening on the horizon but none came close to us. Shooting stars were common; one was so bright that for an instant I thought a ship had illuminated us with a searchlight.

Next morning I saw a freighter take a Japanese long liner in tow. We saw several of these fishing boats. We had seen some before in dry dock in the centre of Cape Town. That seemed a very long time ago.

Early next morning the wind died away so we dropped the sails and waited. As the sun rose it started to rain so we both applied soap to our bodies. The rain was not quite enough to get a good rinse so we used some of our precious fresh water. The rest of the day was overcast with frequent rain. At least this gave a respite from the burning sun. We motored for an hour or so to charge the batteries. The wind direction was very changeable, hard work for the person on watch to trim and steer. Around mid-day we seemed to emerge from under some low lying rain clouds into an area that seemed to be a cloud repository, There was every conceivable cloud type, shape, colour and size. There was very little wind; it was bizarre, as though the clouds were waiting there until needed elsewhere.

Reading the log we were surprised at some of the daily runs, progress was slow but the miles seemed to mount up. Most cruisers would have resorted to their engines by now but we simply did not have enough diesel.

That night and the next day we sailed under plenty of low dark clouds, most gave up some rain and added a few knots to the background wind speed, there were no squalls though. The problem is that they all look like squalls.

The next morning the wind rose to twenty knots, this came as a shock after days of flat calm. I checked the latest grib file and sure enough they had described our weather correctly. As we were at 6 and a half degrees south I though it wise to tack north and go back to gentler conditions.

After six days we still had over four hundred miles to go. Every mile seemed like five!

Mahe

Sat, 18 Oct 2008 09:27:58 GMT

After a more peaceful evening and night during which Charley fed bread to fish swimming under the yacht, we motored North West to an Island called Aride, We began by sailing but the wind died away. Aride is a bird sanctuary and as we drew closer we could see plenty of them returning after a day away. The run was about 12 miles, I had spent the morning rearranging the batteries trying to discover which one was faulty, and so we began at lunch time. With less than a mile to go we had a strike on the lure I was towing behind the yacht. Charley dropped the main, still up even though we were motoring, while I reeled in. We discovered later that we had caught a long fin tuna, another first. While I gutted it a remora darted out to eat the entrails, Charley recognised it as one of the fish she had fed the night before at La Passe. The distinctive feature was a missing right pectoral fin. I managed to finish the cleaning process with the fish still on the gaff, resulting in no mess to clean up in the cockpit. This was particularly useful as we were about to anchor and we both wanted to swim before the light faded. A chartered catamaran flying a French flag had picked up the solitary mooring buoy in a bay with a sandy beach, the rest of the shore looked unapproachable, and that should have told us something. The seabed shelved quickly but we could see a lightly coloured area in a reasonable depth so we anchored. I was first into the sea with mask and snorkel; I soon called on Charley not to join me. I could see that we were above what was once coral and that now resembled concrete so our anchors were not set. The wind was light and unusually for the time of year came from the north. We may well have been fine but after twenty minutes of trying to back the anchors into some sand while I watched we gave up.

The light was fading but we could see three or four masts obviously anchored at a nearby island so we decided to join them. The island was the second largest in the group called Praslin. This took an hour or so and meant anchoring in the dark in a strange place but it all went according to plan. After a gin and tonic I filleted the tuna throwing the head and scraps over the side. Our pet remora was still with us.

Next morning the daylight revealed a beautiful location, after breakfast the three other yachts moved away leaving us on our own. We both enjoyed swimming to the shore before breakfasting in the cockpit. After that we motored around the South of the island and entered a small harbour in Chevalier Bay. There were moorings available so I enjoyed a holiday from anchoring. A local fisherman came to see us later to claim a fee for using his mooring. During the afternoon we went ashore for a walk to the nearest town and bought some provisions from a shop including a bag of ice.

We dined on tuna again but this time when we dropped scraps over the side our pet fish did not appear.

Early next morning we motored out of the harbour and enjoyed a good sail South back to the main island Mahe. The Aquagen, in addition to the solar panels, provided enough electricity to make water for most of the trip, we even had the fridge on for some of the time. At Victoria yacht club we met some new arrivals from Brittany. We discussed routes and they suggested a good stop for us would be the Andaman Islands, west of Thailand. These are Indian owned which would mean getting visas in advance. Fortunately there was an Indian consulate in Victoria, so we filled in the forms and supplied yet more photographs along with the fee, which was reasonable. The delay was said to be a week.

While we waited for our passports to be returned we busied ourselves preparing the yacht for a long trip. We did a stock take of our food stores and one day we serviced the six Harken winches. This had not been done for over a year and was well overdue. I studied the grib files to see what weather might be coming our way. Mostly I saw light south easterly winds with a bit more wind below 7 degrees south. As we neared the day when the visas should be issued the grib files began to describe heavier winds on our route. So we waited.

The visas were issued in good time but the weather forecast predicted twenty five knots, two or three days out. Chagos would still be there if we waited, so we did. There is no point heading out into that much wind. If it happens on route we deal with it but to sail into it with no support is not a good idea.

We began to meet more and more cruisers, some even sailing in the same direction as us. A definite first! Two in a row arrived at Victoria with broken shrouds, both saved their masts, but had to have replacements flown in as there are no rigging facilities in the Seychelles. I was reminded of an occasion at Dar es Salaam when we were on a yacht for drinks; of the four crews present we were the only ones with a functioning engine. A large degree of self sufficiency is required for this type of cruising.

Victoria

Sat, 04 Oct 2008 14:03:15 GMT

We spent a few days catching up on sleep and getting the �feel� of the people, during which time we found a Volvo Penta dealer cum chandler who sold us a couple of new stainless steel blocks, replacing the broken Harken ones that were part of the back stay. I took a gas bottle to a fuel company and had it filled while I watched, an unusual event, I repaired a batten pocket on the main, and cut down one of my racing sail battens to replace the missing one.

The water in the anchorage is very green (and smelly); I presume that the waste from the tuna factory nearby has something to do with this. On Saturday morning we went ashore early to see the market, there was a good turnout of customers vying for a bargain, the fish stalls were particularly well stocked.

On Sunday we took a bus to the south of the island, and happened to come across a beach party with stalls selling local food and other tourist fare like jewellery made from shells or clothing with Seychelles printed on them. I found this strange as there were no tourists present, apart from us. The people are a mixture of African, Indian, and Oriental, with a touch of European.

On Monday morning we heard Festina Lente calling port control on VHF channel 12. They had arrived the night before but been made to wait until the next day for Customs and Immigration to come out to them. They took eleven and a half days to get to Mahe from Dar es Salaam, so we did well to cover the same distance in eight days.

During one of several trips to an internet caf� I received confirmation from the Foreign office that my application to visit Chagos had been approved. They sent me a certificate as evidence. There is currently a charge of one hundred pounds a month for visiting the islands.

People we have met who have been there say - without exception - that it is a wonderful place. There is no indigenous population, just nature and abundant wildlife. Of course no shops, so everything we would need had to be taken with us. An early look at the weather to come presented problems. From the Seychelles the course would be slightly South of East. North of five degrees South there seems to be no wind and yet south of six degrees south the wind seems to be Westerly at twenty plus knots. Our route would be between these two latitudes. Yet another beat to windward.

We had lunch and dinner with the two people from Festina Lente, Howard and Gaby. They were both typically Australian, and had spent several years cruising the Indian Ocean. Gaby had to return to work so she booked a flight home and left Howard to do the trip north to India on his own. Tired of the town of Victoria we took another bus inland. The fare is always three rupees, no matter what the journey; this converts to 20 pence at the official rate, or 10 pence at the rate to be had on the street. Two examples of single party politics in one go.

We left the bus at the start of a walking route through a national park. This took us higher and higher into thick palm forest. To begin with the path was a former road allowed to fall into disrepair, this soon became a dirt track, and then once under the vegetation canopy, a leaf covered route that was hardly any different from the rest of the forest. Except that it was different, someone had gone to a lot of effort to put branches and stakes in steps up many metres of the track. As we climbed higher we had to clamber over and between large granite boulders, the route was marked with yellow paint although not so often that it was easy to follow. Occasionally we came upon a cliff or clearing that allowed us panoramic views of the island below, we saw both the East and West coasts at different stages. I selected a piece of wood to use as a staff at an early stage, it helped me keep my footing as it was very wet throughout the hike, but it also acted as a wand to disperse the many cobwebs laced between the trees on our route. Some of the spiders were the size of saucers.

We saw no evidence of other walkers, this was not a well trodden path, and this surprised us. We did hope to follow a route that would lead us to another exit from the forest, but as the day drew on, unable to find the path, we decided to retrace our steps and go back to our starting point. There were plenty of large bats flying overhead and we saw some small mammals that looked like opossum, exotic fruits grew in the forest, I knocked down a star fruit with my staff for Charley to taste. Eventually we emerged at the original bus stop and waited for number 32 to take us back to Victoria. We were both soaking wet when we got on the bus but we arrived back at the yacht club we were almost dry.

Next day we walked to the port authority to seek permission to visit some of the other islands. I could not understand why we could not just go as we please. We obtained permission to visit La Digue, Aride, and Praslin, all amongst what is known as the inner islands. Some of the islands are privately owned and permission to visit has to be gained from the owners. Next morning we lifted the ground tackle and called port control for permission to leave, advising them that we were bound for Las Digue. A beam reach, with 15 knots of wind had us roaring along at 7 knots. I planned to make water and practise using the Aries on the trip. I had readied it while in Victoria. Water was the priority so the Aries had to wait. I did not even tow a lure for fish as I did not want any interruptions.

We covered the thirty miles in just over four hours and then sailed up the eastern side of La Digue, to allow more time for water making; this also allowed us to enjoy the scenery. With the tank half full I relented on the non fishing decision, so as we passed the Island, it is only 5 kilometres by 3, I put a line out and within half an hour I caught two Mackerel Tuna, either would have made a meal for two, these are not our preferred eating so they both went back in.

We anchored outside La Passe, on the western side, in 9 metres of water I could clearly see both anchors and the chain between them through the clear water. We were soon in snorkelling attire and together we spent the next hour exploring the shore. The highlight was seeing a hawksbill turtle swim with us. Next day we inflated the dinghy and went ashore; bicycle hire seemed to be the done thing so we joined in. The island was a pleasant surprise after Mahe. We eventually found our way to a beach on the east facing side and after a swim in the surf, had a Creole style, buffet lunch. We learned that the previous day, an hour or two before we had sailed past, a newlywed couple had drowned tragically while swimming off this beach.

Seychelles

Fri, 26 Sep 2008 12:01:47 GMT

For the next few days the wind oscillated between 100 and 180 degrees, when it allowed, we made as much southing as possible, unfortunately this was not enough as we gradually sailed further and further North. On the fifth night at only three and a half degrees south of the equator we enjoyed a whole night of rain squalls. We were too near the ITCZ. Neither of us got much sleep that night. During the days we were surprised at how little life we saw, our only entertainment were the gannets swooping down to take flying fish in mid air. They seemed to have adapted their behaviour to make this their main means of feeding. They also found a yacht irresistible, many of them tried to land on ours, mostly unsuccessfully. For a couple of days the wind speed dropped to seven or eight knots but we managed to continue to sail nicely and the flat sea surface meant fishing. The first bite looked like a Dorado, a prized fish, but we lost it under the yacht, the next day we caught a five and a half kilo King Mackerel, strangely named as the meat is similar to swordfish or marlin, after photographs I quickly had a dozen portion sized fillets in the fridge.

Sailing upwind for a thousand miles it is inevitable that a yacht will pass over a few waves with nothing behind them, resulting in what we call a �slam�. This slamming began to take its toll, one of the gimbals that the cooker swings on broke so the oven sat down at an angle. Then the backstay broke again, the same position but a new Harken block this time. We replaced it, in forty five minutes, and resolved to buy stronger blocks as soon as possible.

Gradually the miles to go reduced until we began our final approach, the wind had been kind to us by veering to the south but as we approached, on the last evening before a likely landfall it backed to head us again. At last we saw the lights of some fishing boats. There are two smaller islands north east of Mahe that lay on our route to Victoria, we did intend to leave them to port, but the wind had other ideas. As we swapped watches we could just make out the islands as they were darker than the background. We sailed on, still on starboard tack until Victoria was almost abeam but twenty miles off, and tacked.

Port tack is our weak spot as most of the weight on Loggerhead; the radar mast for example, is on the starboard side. We did shift as much as we could in South Africa, tins of food etc. but there is a limit. Luck was with us as soon after we tacked the wind backed thirty degrees allowing us to sail our proper course and enjoy the last few hours at sea. As the sun rose we could see some of the islands, I was surprised that they were so high, I had an idea that they were low lying. As we drew nearer Mahe we discussed what island it reminded us of, and agreed on a smaller version of Madeira.

In eight days we logged 1050 miles. We called the port control when ten miles out, as directed by the pilot books, and following the usual exchange of information, were directed to an anchorage outside Victoria. We were both very tired but excited at what we could see. A beautiful island towered over us in a natural harbour. We did not have to wait long for the reception committee to arrive. A pilot launch brought seven or eight officials alongside. They quickly boarded us. After pleasantries we got down to work, filling forms in as quickly as we could. Our pre printed crew lists and ships rubber stamp smoothed this process. We had expected to be fumigated, as other cruisers have advised us, but we escaped that ignominy. The officials were all pleasant and courteous and keen to leave, we approved.

After they had departed we weighed our anchors and called the port control for permission to enter. As we motored in we passed four giant Tuna ships, leaving them to starboard as we turned towards the yacht club. We toured the possible places before we chose our spot and anchored.

The dinghy was quickly inflated and outboard added. We could see the yacht club not a hundred metres away, people sat outside enjoying drinks in the shade. We joined them, and made ourselves known to the manager who ushered us into his office and quickly began criticising the politics of the island. The same old story I am afraid, rigged elections, corruption, and financial mismanagement, we could have been in the US.

We hoped to have left all that behind in Africa, but I suspect it will be a recurrent theme for the rest of the trip. It makes us realise just how good it is in England.

Despite being told how expensive it is, we found some of the prices in the shops to be a good bit less than Tanzania, the quality was better as well, there being a French influence. Seychelles gained independence from Britain in 1976 but many would like a return to colonial days.

Indian Ocean

Fri, 19 Sep 2008 18:40:03 GMT

Our time in Dar passed too quickly; we had lots of fun and met some nice people. The new parts for the yacht I had ordered, arrived from England but then I discovered that I needed a new passport. Seychelles require six months validity, mine had just five. Just as well I checked. The new one, issued locally, took two weeks. While we waited my fiftieth birthday came and went. Charley organised a superb party on Loggerhead attended by some of the other cruisers. It started at midday and we just about ran out of steam by midnight. One of the guests brought some Madagascan rum, criminal rum, we call it. It tastes harmless enough but the effect is quite something. While we waited for the passport we competed in a couple of races. I helmed a quarter tonner, built in Bournemouth twenty plus years ago. The Yacht club have a kind of golf club handicap system for racing, if you don't win very often, or at all, your handicap is altered to make your boat more competitive. I'm afraid Ragtime will be worse off after we raced her as we came second and then first in the two races we entered.

After a monumental shop for stores we waited for a weather window so we could depart, I cleared immigration and customs in the city on Friday but then we waited two more days for some strong winds to pass. On Sunday the grib files looked good so on Monday morning we left.

We waved at some of our friends as we left at ten o'clock, a bit late really because before long the usual sea breeze set in. The wind speed quickly rose to twenty five knots. Victoria, capital of Mahe, our destination, bore 080 degrees and was just under a thousand miles away. At this time of year the winds came from the south east. We quickly reduced sail but two months of easy living had not helped prepare us. It was wet and uncomfortable. Fortunately we left the sea breeze behind at about twenty miles offshore and the wind settled to about eighteen knots. We made good speed sailing almost close hauled, higher than our destination, as we expected to be headed by the wind later on. The current also pushed us North.

We started our usual watch system but sleep was difficult for both of us due to the noise and the motion. Each day I downloaded a new grib file via the Iridium phone. The forecast was good. On the second day a gannet flew into the wind generator. The blades were undamaged but the same could not be said for the poor bird. A pattern began to emerge from the weather, unusually more wind at night than during the day. The further north we went the lighter the wind. Days were 8-15 knots and nights were 11-19 knots. The direction varied between 110 and 180 degrees.

On the third evening we were both sitting in the cockpit, under moonlight, when a block, part of the cascading backstay tensioner, shattered, leaving us with no backstay. After a moment's confusion, we turned into the wind and made the rig secure. It took us another three hours to replace the broken block, this included swinging to and fro in a bosun's chair and standing on the boom, both with a sea running. We sacrificed the SSB aerial during the repair, a small price to pay under the circumstances.

On a more mundane level, one of the batteries I bought in Dar is apparently un-serviceable. The bank will not take a charge. The new aquagen (towable generator), now fitted, does mean though that we can make electrical power on demand. Twice we made fresh water without having to run the engine to charge the batteries. All the other systems worked well, after four days we passed the halfway point. The sailing was as good as it ever can be. In no particular order, clear skies, flat sea, gentle winds, cold fridge and good company.

We heard by email that another yacht left Dar the day after us, also bound for the Seychelles. An Australian boat called Festina Lente. It will be interesting to see how well they sail her.

Dar es Salaam II

Sun, 24 Aug 2008 10:56:05 GMT

The days passed quickly at the anchorage, I visited Felixstowe for a week. When I returned we booked a short safari in a game park. The cruising community that we met at Dar was slightly unusual in that they tended to dwell. This was entirely understandable as the Yacht club is very comfortable and life is easy. The weather is just about perfect. The club is on a peninsular north of Dar, most of the neighbouring buildings are embassies. There were plenty of functions to attract ex-pats, the happy two hours on Friday nights being particularly well attended, a mobile phone network sponsors half price drinks.

We soon learned how to make our way into the city. A form of bus service called Dalla-Dalla is by far the cheapest option; it is also very crowded. The vehicles would appear not to receive any form of maintenance; Charley was on one when the clutch burnt out.

There are as many fishermen as sailors at the club so another tradition has developed, on Sunday nights there is a fish barbeque, of, I presume the weekend's catch.

Initially we anchored on the outside of the moorings; this meant we had a long wait for the "dinghy-dinghy" on channel 9 to come out to us, so after a week we moved to a more central position. We have a buoyed line to the first anchor, a fortress, although the yacht tends to swing around the second, a Delta. This made my neighbours nervous and one of them kept asking us to move, unnecessarily, I thought. We planned to spend a day at one of the nearby islands, making water if nothing else, so move we did. On the way back the heavens opened and I was completely soaked by the rain. We anchored a bit further from the moaner and all seemed well.

We arrived with quite a big list of things to do to the yacht; probably the most important was to discover why the wind generator was not keeping the batteries charged. Initially I thought it was the regulator and ordered a new one, but following an exchange of emails with Superwind in Germany I finally discovered that the stop switch was causing the problem.

During my time in England I had a hose made for the new gas bottle regulator that I bought in Mozambique, I also had a spare made. I can now use any of five different gas bottles, in hindsight the solution would have been to leave England with two big bottles, at least 25 kilos. I also bought a new alternator and a management system to go with it. My bag was quite heavy on the flight back.

Whilst investigating the Superwind I discovered that two of the four batteries would not hold a charge, these were Lifeline, glass mat batteries, nothing similar could be found in Dar, I eventually bought four car batteries for the princely sum of 1.6 million shillings.

We went to a region called Selous for a safari. Safari means journey in Swahili so if you tell someone here that you going on one they ask where to? Charley liked the idea of a train ride to get there so she bought tickets on the three times a week service to Zambia. The railway was built by the Chinese and is in serious need of maintenance. It is interesting that there is no word for maintenance in Swahili. All the first class tickets were sold so she bought six second class seats, this gave us our own compartment, and third class was completely full. We were due to depart at nine am, three am in Swahili time, their clock starts at dawn, and we became increasingly frustrated as ten o'clock came and went. Eventually the train pulled away and we were off. The five hour trip was fascinating as all life passed by. At each of the six or seven stops people waited by the track, there were no platforms, ready to sell all manner of things. I bought a coconut at one stop. The bush had been burnt in most places, this is done early in the season to prevent big fires when the grass is higher, it does not affect the trees. We alighted at a town called Kisaki, after asking people the place name at the previous three stops. Eventually, amid the chaos, we found someone from the lodge that we were going to stay at, Sable Mountain. Our small bags were put under our seats and we climbed up onto a Land Rover. The dirt road was very uneven and the journey was quite slow, it was about five miles but it took over half an hour.

We arrived at late afternoon and were shown to our basha. The resort was invisible from the road or the air. There was no mains electricity or water. Water from a spring was heated by the sun and solar power charged batteries. Early next morning, before dawn, we left in a lLand Rover for a short ride before doing a walking safari. After half an hour we left the vehicle and escorted by a man with a rifle, we set off. We managed to get quite close to all manner of animals, although fortunately we did not see any lions. We returned to the resort for lunch and then took another drive in the early evening. Next day we drove to a lake and took a trip on a small boat to see crocodiles and hippos, at very close range. Evening meals were enjoyed with the other guests at a central structure made of wood with a grass roof, We dined in lamp light while listening to the noises of the jungle. There was also a springwater swimming pool. Next day we visited a Masai village and after lunch took a small plane back to Dar. We dare not risk the train as the day after our journey the train was five hours late and the next day it was eighteen hours late.

We made several trips into Dar, it is a very busy city, the traffic is chaotic. Most of the shops are Indian owned, and although items are difficult to locate, most things can be found there.

After the safari it was Charley's turn to fly home and while she was away I completed most of the jobs still outstanding on Loggerhead. Three times we left the club to anchor in cleaner brine to run the water maker, the first was out to sea and back, the next two we dropped the hooks off a small island called Mbudya. We snorkelled there during the day.

Having decided that I needed more electricity while we sail, even though the wind generator problems seem to be solved, I ordered an Aquagen towable generator from the UK. This would delay us a week or two so we decided to visit Zanzibar while we waited. Some of the yachts from the club reported humpback whales while racing there the week before we left, so we hoped to see some. The passage was pleasant although a bit slow as we sailed under head sail only. We tore the mainsail luff while hoisting it; the new slides seem to stick in the track. We sailed past Stone Town and anchored off a hotel complex at a place called Mtoni marine, following good advice. Stone Town itself was too busy and the yacht could not be safely left unattended there.

Next morning we went ashore at low water in our dinghy and had to wade through mud up to our knees. Fortunately the hotel had an open air shower by the beach so we cleaned up before taking a taxi into town. We visited some museums and walked the narrow streets. The ornately carved doors, following Arab influence, being a notable feature. Lunch at an Indian restaurant was followed by more sightseeing before a taxi took us back to the beach.

Next day we joined an organised excursion to visit some spice farms. We both enjoyed this. I took photographs of many of the plants that we all use on a daily basis without knowing what they look like while growing. For example I did not know that pepper comes from a vine that grows on trees and not as a plant on its own. We had lunch at a native village and then the bus took us back to the beach. Back on the yacht we raised the anchors and motored a mile or so to one of the four islands that are visible from Stone Town. The previous evening we had seen bats leave this island at dusk and fly to the mainland to feed. The other reason we chose "Grave" island was to see the cemetery containing the remains of Britons killed stamping out slavery in the 1870's. I found it quite emotional to read the names and fates of the many young men. The graveyard was not tended as well as it should be, but most of the stones are in a reasonable condition. We also saw a large group of graves of those lost from the Pegasus, sunk by the Germans in 1914.

We motored around the island in the dinghy, it was quite windy and there was a slight chop to the water, at dusk we saw thousands and thousands of bats fly overhead. Apparently fruit bats, they were quite large, about the size of a sea-gull. We were astonished to see so many come from such a small island.

Next morning we left early to sail the forty or so miles back to Dar. The wind was light to begin with so we motored, but as usual a sea breeze began around midday. This has been the case every day we have been in this area; the wind is southerly at night and in the morning, but Easterly in the afternoons. The wind speed rose to twenty five knots, making the return seem longer than we would have liked. Before it became too strong we stopped the yacht to watch and photograph a humpback,. It lay with its tail in the air above the water for five minutes at a time, and after a few breaths it adopted this position again. We would like to find out why it does this.

One story that would do credit to a Clive James show was the recurring theme of innocuous words in one language having unfortunate meanings in another. One of the yachts at anchor at the Dar es Salaam yacht club is called Vaka-Lele. The skipper, a German called Hartmut told us this story. After cruising around most of the world he found himself in the Pacific island of Tonga, He had always wanted a Polynesian name for his boat so he discussed a few suggestions with the locals. Vaka Lele sounded good and it means fast boat or speed boat in Polynesian. He adopted it and had dodgers made with this name for the sides of his cockpit. All seemed fine as he sailed west through the Far East past Indonesia and then across the Indian Ocean. When he arrived in the Seychelles he saw children pointing at his yacht sniggering, but thought nothing of it. He went to a bank to perform some transaction, and after being asked his address he gave the response, "aboard Vaka-Lele" This brought uproar in the bank, fortunately this turned to laughter. Eventually they told him what these words meant in the Seychelles. Vaka means cow, not so bad, but Lele is the slang for lovemaking, I leave it to you to put the words together. These words had a similar meaning in Madagascar, his next stop; he did not stay long...

Dar es Salaam

Wed, 02 Jul 2008 11:14:20 GMT

At last, Tanzania. The difference was immediate; at our first stop just over the border the customs at the dock were courteous and did not try to extort money. We walked to the town of Mtwara and along the way we commented on the lack of litter. The people seemed to be happy and friendly even though they appear poor by western standards. The town was very spread out, apparently the planners had hoped for bigger things, but we enjoyed the walk. We exchanged �jambo� with everyone. First stop in town was a bank, then immigration, who strangely wanted their visa fee of two hundred US in dollars. I left Charley there while I went back to the bank. Fortunately upon my return she had negotiated a better deal so I only had to part with one 100 dollar note.

We found a caf� and sat outside to enjoy a beer, this was followed by an internet session and then some shopping for salad. We bought a nice selection for under a pound (two thousand shillings), the rate in Mozambique was always higher for us as tourists. There were many three wheeled taxi�s looking for business, the kind made in India, they are a bit like golf carts. We jumped into one and went back to the dock, sooner than Charley would have liked, but we had left the dinghy unprotected and the yacht was at anchor over coral.

Charley went back to town while I obtained a transire from the customs. She returned with some Makonde ebony carvings, I told her how well she had shopped. I was impressed. Next morning we left for Mafia island, we reversed our track out of the port on the raymarine plotter and motored for an hour to charge the batteries. I am beginning to think that new batteries are in order as these ones do not seem to have the capacity that they used to. I towed a lure as soon as I could as fresh fish would be welcome. The grib files gave us southerly twenty knots from around midnight, hopefully we will be almost there before it gets too rough. The first strike came fairly soon while we were still motoring. The lure I used had small hooks and the fish managed to wriggle off.

Very slowly throughout the afternoon the wind increased. It was more easterly than the forecast. Charley baked some rolls but the last camping gas bottle emptied just at the wrong time. The next bottle would have to be calor so I had to change the fitting. I was almost finished with tools spread out when we had another strike. I grabbed the rod and reeled in. An eight pound big-eyed tuna, I used the gaff and as it came into the cockpit it made quite a mess. No matter, I gutted it and put it into the fridge whole. I did not think that we would be doing much cooking that evening. I was right, the wind was up to twenty knots well before midnight, although the direction was friendly enough. It was not long before the waves grew big enough to make us roll considerably. The moon was an hour later than the previous night so the early evening was very dark. The watches were stood and handed over, although sleep when off watch was difficult. Progress was good, we almost had to slow down to find our way around the island of Mafia in daylight. As we entered the channel Charley spotted a partly submerged tree dead ahead, it was tangled in fishing gear, we were pleased to have missed it. Just after breakfast we entered the bay to the west of Mafia. The water was shallow near the town so we had to anchor about a mile off, the town was called Killindoni. The wind was a bit strong for us to risk the dinghy so we had a lazy day catching up on sleep etc.

The next morning the weather was the same but we really had to get ashore so we took a bailer and hoped that the dinghy would not ship too much water. We were both soaked through within a few minutes but the waves slowly decreased as we neared the shore, it was mostly spray rather than waves that came inboard. The tiny harbour had many fishing boats and one small craft that carried two 40 foot reefers. The usual welcoming party awaited us on the beach, everyone wanted to help, the hard thing is how to decide who to engage. I usually choose the best English speaker, here it was a man called Simba. We walked with him around the village and bought provisions. There was not much else to do. The port official suggested that I return at 4pm to see the Customs officer. We had a beer at a lodge and then went back to the yacht.

At three thirty I set off again and met the port captain just as he was locking his office. He smiled at me and said �you�re late�, I showed him my watch which displayed 3.55, he laughed and showed me his watch, it displayed 4.55, We had not altered our clocks. Fortunately the Customs officer came back following a call and stamped my new transire.

Next morning we left early, the wind was still strong so we ran downwind under headsail only. We still had tuna in the fridge but I trolled a lure anyway. The island of Mafia was still in sight when we had a strike, I reeled in and gaffed a King Mackerel weighing 3 kilos. We have a couple of game fish recognition books to aid our identification. We settled on king mackerel as the other possibility, wahoo, has a longer lower jaw.

The wind was steady throughout the day, we decided to anchor off an island called Sukuti so we could snorkel and then sleep during the night rather than stand watches. The distance to Dar es Salaam was only 70 miles but the stop would split this into two legs. Unfortunately the water became cloudy as we neared the island so snorkelling was out. Charley went for a swim anyway. Turtles surfaced regularly around the boat. It was also rougher than we expected, the island was flat with only six or seven trees, providing little shelter, so after dinner we took turns to sleep. At six next morning we sailed north, the wind was a bit lighter and more westerly resulting in smaller waves, the result was a wonderful sail. We passed many dhows coming the other way and also a yacht but who ever it was did not acknowledge my radio call. By midday we were approaching Dar-es-Salaam city although the yacht club is five miles further north. Fortunately, Charley read the pilot book and discovered that we had to clear customs in the city before going to the yacht club. I had to call a ship as a precaution, as it seemed a bit close but apart from that the pilotage was easy. We dropped the sails and motored in. We spotted a small fishing boat anchored in the middle of the buoyed channel, as we neared them they waved us closer. Their outboard would not start so we towed them into the port.

They released our line go and waved a thank you. We continued past a busy ferry terminal and allowed one boat to cross the small distance to the other bank. We continued but just as a second ferry approached, at the point where we both decide which way to turn, the throttle cable broke. I called Charley to set some jib, which saved the day. We were not far from the muddy bank on which we were to anchor, in a couple of minutes we rounded up into the wind and I threw the hardware over the bow. It was very hot in the sun, Charley inflated the dinghy while I investigated the failure. The customs staff were conveniently positioned inside the ferry terminal that we anchored near. The women there took an age but were friendly, they could not find the blank form we required, so eventually they prepared a handwritten one. I waved to Charley who came to collect me in the dinghy. As soon as we could, we sailed north, we hoped to arrive during daylight, and fortunately it was downwind to the yacht club. After a brief survey of the layout of the moorings we anchored.

After a bit of negotiation a club dinghy took us ashore. We were met by the duty official, who bought us a pizza each and a few beers. The club operates a cashless regime, funds have to be deposited at a bank in advance, so it would be Monday before we had an account in credit.

Pemba

Mon, 23 Jun 2008 15:30:40 GMT

The forecast was south-east ten or fifteen knots becoming twenty after midnight, our course was almost due north. As the wind can of course exceed the forecast, twenty is the most we wanted to see in a grib file. Downwind this should be a pleasure but the swell has a long fetch and this makes for uncomfortable rolling. However on this leg we had an added advantage. For the first time since we left Cape Town there were places of refuge from a southerly wind, in fact four of them, all easy to enter. This gave us the confidence to push on. To begin with there was rain bearing clouds but these soon disappeared. The sailing was good but we knew more wind was coming. One by one we passed the natural harbours along the coast. The distance to go steadily reduced and when the strong wind did come at eight in the morning, we could already see the entrance to Pemba bay. We reefed the main twice and entered. The suggested anchorage was exposed so we found a bay on a north facing shore. The first attempt was too near another boat so after a couple of hours rest we had another go. It was still very windy. The strain on the warp surprised me, but it held.

Next morning we inflated the dinghy and went ashore. We were met by the usual group of young men looking for easy pickings. They were not disappointed.

One lad with reasonable English agreed to take us in a taxi to the port captain. A nearby stallholder called his brother by cell phone, he claimed to be a taxi, in fact he just owned a car. The dock was about four miles away, we could see that Pemba was more prosperous than most of the other places we had seen in Mozambique. We had read in the pilot book that Pemba's officials were the greediest of the bunch. The clerk at the port captain�s office gave me three forms to complete and then used a desk top calculator to display 4,400, which he wanted in meticais. Nearly a hundred pounds!

I told my translator to tell him that we were a small yacht and not a ship. He displayed some sort of tariff which anyone could have concocted. I said I would leave without clearance. The boy translated. He then recalculated down to 3300, still too much. At that stage a more senior clerk, I assume, asked what was going on, he then pointed to the figure of 2,300 metis which I reluctantly agreed to pay.

We then visited the immigration office to have our passports stamped for exit, as this would be our last port in Mozambique. Another 800 meticais left my wallet. We then visited a Barclays bank for more cash, a supermarket, a baker, a beer store, and a stall selling tins of tonic water. The gas depot could not fill my camping gas bottle. We enjoyed lunch at the resort we were anchored off, until Charley found a deep fried fly in hers. After a few more beers we had an early night aboard Loggerhead.

The beach boys are sharp, if you ask one where to buy vegetables he will reply that his mother has a farm, or if you want washing done she has a laundry. Once you agree a deal he has you. We ended up buying from one receiving rotting fruit at twice the going rate bought from the market. Next day we went ashore early, Charley collected the washing while I browsed the internet at the resort's reception. During the day someone helped themselves to Charley's trainers, left in the dinghy. One lad offered me prawns, big ones, he said. I asked how much? "200 metis per kilo". �Sell me one kilo then�, I said. He replied, �Give me the money and I will go to the market�.

Next morning we sailed northwards, the conditions were ideal, 15 knots on the beam and a gentle sea. We made great progress, the next stop, Mtwara in Tanzania was a 170 mile hop, just over a day I thought. The boat speed was more than seven knots but when I looked at the speed over the ground I was disappointed to see just over 4. We had 2.7 knots of current against us. The west going south equatorial current hits Africa at right angles at the border of Mozambique and Tanzania, it then splits into two currents, one south going and the other the opposite. It was another hundred miles before we found a northerly flow, even then it was only just helpful. We arrived in the bay outside Mtwara just after sunset, the moon would not appear until eight thirty so it was very dark. We reefed the main and steered towards the safe water buoy. The log read 226 miles we had had a great sail. 15-17 knots from the southeast for the whole leg.

It was completely dark as we neared the entrance so I flashed up the radar, there were a few unexplained targets, we avoided them, they were either fishermen or fishing buoys. We motored very close to a net floating on the surface. Without a paper chart I had to rely on the electronic one. We soon ran into trouble. The plotter had us in 45 metres of water but the depth gauge thought otherwise. Leading lights were not lit, buoys were missing. We soon ran out of water. We anchored, hoping that we were not in anyone's way. A quick drink then bed, we were both very tired, not too tired to hear the chain grinding on the coral during the night. The radar the night before, showed what looked like a ship anchored in the bay and at dawn we could see a small coaster. After tea at dawn I noticed that the coaster was coming in so we did our best to weigh the anchors as quickly as possible, I intended to follow the ship. The chain was tangled around some coral heads and by the time we were ready the coaster had gone past. It did give us a guide though. We motored into deeper water and found the channel. We rounded a sandy spit and approached the dock, beside which we were to anchor. We saw hundreds of people, all in brightly coloured clothes, waiting for ferries to take them across the river. Our anchorage was at the end of the dock, the bottom sloped quite a lot so we had to choose our spot carefully. Once we were satisfied with the holding I looked at the plotter, apparently we were a couple of hundred metres inland. I took a photograph as a memento of a difficult night.

Ilha da Mozambique

Wed, 18 Jun 2008 15:45:27 GMT

I presented myself at the port administrators office in Quelimane at 8.45 on the day we planned to sail. The clerks were all there but no boss, so no clearance. I walked to the internet cafi, which was nearby, to waste some time. After half an hour or so I tried again, without luck. One of the clerks did give me the chief's mobile phone number though. I walked back to the fish dock and found an English speaking local. I asked him to call the number for me. The administrator was due to return in an hour and a half. Charley had just returned from a shopping expedition so we prepared the yacht for sea. Just before noon I walked back to the port office. I sat in the reception for almost two hours. This was fine but high water was at noon and we had a bar to get over. Eventually the arrogant man arrived, he apologised but all I wanted was a clearance. He then explained that I would have to pay 2300 meticais, about fifty pounds, for the privilege of leaving. The form filling took another half an hour, but at two thirty I walked quickly back to the fish dock. Charley had made final arrangements for departure so just before three pm we let go the mooring lines and motored down the river.

The passage out was easier than the passage in because I had knowledge that a dredger was working the river, so I ignored the electronic chart. The wind was about fifteen knots from the south east. We were quite sheltered in the river but as we approached the bar the waves began to increase in size. We could see the surf breaking on the sand on either side of us. I positioned the yacht inside the buoys. We must have missed the channel as the depth began to decrease. The display flashed 3.2, 2.9, 2.5. all the time the waves increased. We motored into the waves, reducing the boat speed if a large one came. Then it read 2 metres below the keel, then 1.7, and finally 1.5. We must have been rising and falling by two metres so perhaps that was the reading in the trough. At last it went back over two metres and then three metres. We were through. We altered to port slightly and cut the engine, we were free to sail. We set some genoa and breathed a big sigh of relief.

Initially the sailing was good, reaching into twelve knots we left the loom of Quelimane behind rapidly. Just before midnight Charley called me from my rest as she could see large black clouds approaching. There was a half moon for most of the night so the visibility was good. We went to two reefs in the main and put the genoa away completely. We could see the rain on the radar, they were not big clouds but there were plenty of them.

It soon rained on us, and as usual this brought more wind. We are quite accustomed to this by now. I came on watch at two am and it seemed to rain for the whole of my four hours. It ended with a spectacular finale. It was just daylight and the rain very heavy. The wind was only about eight knots though. Within two or three seconds the wind rose to 36 knots, the yacht began to broach under main alone. Fortunately the main sheet was soaking wet as I let it run through my fingers very quickly, dry, this would have burned my hands. The downburst only lasted a few moments and the rain stopped at the same time, we were through that particular cloud.

The next day and a half were a joy to sail, the wind, first a reach, then a run, slowly increasing in strength until it peaked at twenty knots just before we arrived at Ilha de Mozambique. The waves from behind were growing in size but at no time did we get wet in the cockpit. The grib file download on the second day described twenty knots from the south east, that could of course mean more or less but it seemed sensible to have a break. We might have continued to Pemba with a different forecast. The free grib service comes from Global Marine Net, which I believe is American. To obtain a forecast send an email to gmngrib@globalmarinenet.net - there is no text to the message, the automated response reads the subject line. The format is Lat and Long or place name, range, space, number of days. For example 17s:42e:400 5day Don't forget the colons The reply is almost immediate. You will need a grib file reader to be able to see the result. Try www.globalmarinenet.net for a free one.

We anchored in the lee of the island in six metres over sand. The holding was good. We then enjoyed two large gin and tonics with ice and lemon, we had fantasised about them for the previous two days. They were very well received. A good rest followed.

Next morning we awoke and as usual, for this is a recurrent happening, wondered what we would see. We saw an island almost as a time capsule. There was a castle to the North and most of the other buildings looked at least three hundred years old. They were also crumbling; no maintenance has been done for a very long time. There were a couple of buildings in good order; these seemed to be recently acquired homes, perhaps by foreigners.

We pumped up the dinghy and added the outboard; one bag of rubbish accompanied us ashore. We were met by a welcoming party of locals, One chap, Said, thrust a letter of commendation from another yacht into my hand. I agreed that he could keep watch over the dinghy while we walked around with another chap called Jonathon.

There were plenty of people about, including a large percentage of children. As we walked through the dirt streets, the buildings were of an age that used local rocks rather than manufactured ones. Ninety percent were ruins, but we could see that people lived in them. We could see washing hung out to dry in small courtyards and also the smoke from cooking fires. There was evidence of some modernisation; I noticed the insulators from overhead power cables. The cables had gone though. The buildings were grand enough to have been prestigious in their time. The Portuguese had this island as their capital for over two hundred years. Independence was granted in 1974 but neglect like this must have been older. We found a restaurant that looked interesting and the meal was acceptable. The long evening was spent aboard the yacht. Next morning we went ashore with a gas bottle looking for a refill. Our guide the day before, Jonathon, met us. Our first stop was the port captain. A surly looking woman there handed me a form which I completed, I had to return to the yacht as she wanted a copy of the crew list, when I returned she handed me my outward clearance and did not ask for money. We walked towards the bridge to the mainland Jonathon asked someone the whereabouts of a gas supplier. He said it was on the mainland and that we could get a bus quite cheaply. I agreed the journey would be interesting if nothing else. I was also reasonably confident about the safety of the yacht and the dinghy. The bus turned out to be a small flatbed truck; we joined some ladies already sitting in the back, one of which had a small baby, the other had a live chicken with it's feet tied together, I was surprised at how docile it was. Soon other passengers climbed aboard, the next four or five men had large baskets of fish with them, each of which had a swarm of flies in attendance. Eventually I could only stand on one foot. We then moved off, across the single track three mile long bridge. Once on the mainland the road was in good condition and perfectly straight. There were several stops, even more people climbed on. We continued, I then spotted a road sign with the place name where we were going to it said Mobana 45 kilometres, another thirty miles. I said to Jonathon that was too far and we should go back. At the next stop we got off but he agreed to continue with the hope of finding gas. We did not wait long for a lift back. Another small truck fully loaded with sand stopped, we climbed on and stood on the cargo. As the truck picked up speed the sand swirled into our faces. We were only taken to the bridge and yet another lift took us across. Hot and bothered we walked to the same restaurant that we had dined at the day before. A couple of cold ones and some lunch revived us. We then walked to the fort, it was in remarkably good condition, the original cannon remain, although the wooden carriages have almost gone. A guide explained that the island was taken by the Dutch but they could not overcome the fort so they left and colonised South Africa instead. We took the dinghy back to the yacht and watched for Jonathon.

Charley spotted him on the beach at six thirty next morning, apparently he had returned the previous evening but we failed to see him, even though we used the binoculars. A last minute shop and we made preparations for departure. The dinghy was deflated and put back into its bag. I winched up the chain and two anchors and we motored towards the deep water channel.

We were both fascinated by the island. Hundreds of years of history is crumbling away. There were a few restoration projects in place and Jonathon spoke of others about to start, but the task is enormous. In the museum I saw a photograph of the island in its heyday, all the buildings had fresh paint and the streets were swept. We would both like to see it again in some sort of order.

There was a decent south east wind as we left the island behind. Pemba was 125 miles away, to the north.

Quelimane

Wed, 11 Jun 2008 13:36:30 GMT

The next morning we snorkelled again, I took a video camera to capture some memories. We enjoyed the island very much, but all good things come to an end so after breakfast we motored, for there was no wind, to the top of the largest island in the group, Baseruto. We anchored off a long sandy spit within sight of a luxury hotel complex. Unfortunately the wind was a bit too strong for us to go ashore in the dinghy, so we spent the afternoon relaxing. I would love to have room for a bigger dinghy. We had the option of staying the night but decided to move on as the anchorage was a bit too exposed.

A beam reach northwards saw the lighthouse behind the hotel disappear quickly. We packed away the dinghy and all the gear that is stowed on top of it in the locker as we sailed. There was some moon to enjoy after the sun went down, but not for long, the sun sets at five pm here, it is almost mid winter so the nights are long. We can't have everything.

Just after midnight I noticed some darkness approaching from astern, it could only mean one thing, I quickly swapped Hooligan jacket for Musto. I studied the place where I could no longer see stars, it was gaining on us. I went straight to two reefs and furled away the genoa. The wind had been steady at nine knots, as the cloud approached it began to increase. Very quickly fifteen knots, and as always the direction changed. It began to rain, not much to begin with but the drops were big. The wind increased to twenty knots. The rain became heavier and so on. Within ten minutes we must have been in the centre of the system. More wind and torrential rain, I decided to go to three reefs, I eased the halyard but could not pull the sail down due to the pressure of the wind on it. I dare not sail head to wind, the flogging would destroy the sail, so I altered course with the wind changes to keep sailing deep and kept the main sheeted in so it caught the least amount of wind. More wind and more rain fell, it was like being hosed. I looked astern and even in the darkness I could see the surface of the water was white. I then saw yet another sight I would rather have not, A waterspout behind the yacht. I opened the hatch and shouted "Charley", "get dressed". She was due on watch anyway. Within a few moments the wind stopped and the rain eased. It was as though somebody turned the fan off. I assumed that we were in the centre, or the eye, but in fact we had passed through completely. Charley put the radar on and we watched the rain images move down wind. We cleared away the sheets and halyards in the cockpit, I altered course to miss another system and then went off watch. Next morning, during daylight, there were a few more rain clouds, but we easily avoided them. During the day the clouds lifted and we enjoyed the sunshine, the grib files that I have recently been receiving via the Iridium satellite phone, began to mention strong winds approaching, due in our area on Sunday night, with even stronger on Monday night, our only reasonable choice then is to go to Quelimane. The town is some 8 miles up a river. The difficulty with it is the entrance is across a bar. High water will be at dawn or dusk, the ideal time to enter is two hours before that, so that the tide is with us in the river. The pilot book states that the tide can be up to 3 knots. For either tide part of the entrance must be in the dark.

The next night was text book, about ten knots of wind and no clouds. The off watch person slept well. Next morning I turned in at six. At eight thirty I ran the engine for two hours to charge the batteries. I then ran the water maker for two and a half hours, during which time I did all my washing. I then ran the engine for another two hours, and the water maker for yet another two hours. Whilst all this was going on we stood watches, had breakfast, bacon and eggs, but normally porridge, had lunch and fished. We hooked three fish during the afternoon, the first was a small mackerel tuna, not good eating so we put it back, the other two were good sized game fish, but both escaped when we tried to net them. We resolved to use the gaff in future.

We sailed slowly towards the coast and just after ten pm we anchored in six metres on mud. Fortress and Delta will be standard ground tackle from now on. During the afternoon I moved the chain attaching the fortress to the delta to a stronger position. I also wired all the shackles.

At four am we started the engine and slowly motored towards the red and green lights that we could see about a mile away. As we drew closer I could see that the buoys were not where the electronic chart suggested. The channel must have moved. We had no choice but to follow the buoys, in the dark. The plotter often showed us on the hard stuff, but we continued. The sun began to rise as we entered another inland waterway. The mangroves grew into the water and obscured the banks. It was not long before we saw people fishing, some standing up to their waists in the river and some in dug out canoes. I got the impression that they don't see many yachts. The buoys seemed well placed so the passage went well after all. We passed several small islands as the river meandered, until at last we saw some huts made of twigs and then a town with a pontoon. We looked for somewhere to anchor; the place mentioned on the chart was too shallow. So our first attempt was a little further downstream. Within half an hour a dredger had appeared and in very poor English over the VHF advised that we were in its working area. We moved.

The next spot was near the river wall, a bit too near the wall in fairness. We could speak to the growing number of spectators gathering to look at us, one or two of which had some English. We napped for an hour before a boat came alongside. A nice man, probably the port captain, explained in Portuguese that we should move as we were in front of the governor's house. I would have thought that the governor would be delighted to look at us, but we moved anyway. The rest of Sunday was spent catching up on sleep and sending emails, we are always tired after these short trips, it takes a longer one to get used to watches.

The next morning we woke at dawn and peered towards the shore, it was surprisingly busy with people. There was a school nearby and we could hear the children, even at six thirty. We prepared ourselves, ate breakfast and inflated the dinghy. Charley dropped me at the large pontoon with "pesca" or fish emblazoned on it. It was quite a structure, although we never saw any fishing boats use it. I carried our documents, three bags of rubbish and an empty gas bottle ashore. Charley, for the first time, manoeuvred the dinghy, under outboard engine, back to the yacht. I was quickly accosted by offers of help. I asked for directions to the port captain and a young man on a bicycle offered to take me there. Another chap approached me and spoke a little English, so the three of us set off. I soon tired of carrying bags of rubbish so I asked the older of the two what to do with them, he gestured that I throw it over the sea wall, onto the mangrove trees. There was already plenty of rubbish there and I did not want to add to it so I declined, we continued along the street and before long I spotted a wheelie bin so in went my bags and an empty oil container which was quickly retrieved by the youth on the bicycle. He carried it around with him all day.

The port administration was not far. There was a gun in the grounds that looked like it might just be usable. Not much more than a pop gun but I suspect it made someone feel important. The English speaker with me spoke to the officials, we were then passed higher and higher to the chief. We went through several offices in an old building. Each had one or two uniformed people sitting at a desk, I would guess that they had nothing to do. You can tell when people are busy, or bored. Eventually we were ushered into one where the port captain sat. He had an office befitting his status, in his opinion. He had a large map of the Zambezi region behind him on the wall, a big desk and a large leather backed chair. The lights were on, because the curtains were drawn, creating a strange atmosphere. My interpreter explained my circumstances but very quickly the port captain spoke to me in reasonable English. He wanted to see my clearance from the previous port in Mozambique. All I could show him was the receipt I had from the manager of the fish dock. I had missed out one of the formalities, probably because I wasted so much effort at the customs. I did my best to placate him and it seemed to work. He looked a bit sinister, in an immaculate attire, but he soon warmed a little. I played the part of the clumsy tourist and it seemed to work, unfortunately we sat there for over half an hour while he called various tourism officials on his mobile phone. Worse still, he then walked the three of us across town to the tourist office.

Again I was ushered through a building not fit for purpose, with desks crammed into small spaces, to meet some one who would explain "tourism" to me. At least the port captain left me alone. The chap I met could not sell water in the middle of a desert. He had no idea what tourism meant, although he was nice enough. He had simply found a cushy job. That sums up a former totalitarian state; there are still plenty of things paid for by the government that should be left to free enterprise. Why have a ministry when there are few hotels or facilities? I thanked him and excused myself. My two helpers were waiting outside. The port captain had asked for copies of the yacht registration and my qualifications. Not thinking I would need such things, I had failed to take them with me so I agreed to take them back later. First of all I decided I would like to refill the camping gas bottle. We walked through the streets, the young man on his bicycle ahead of us and the English speaker beside me. He claimed to have worked on ships in South Africa. The streets were pot-holed and dusty and there were many cyclists. There was no evidence of maintenance or new building anywhere. We passed what must have been a station in the past, the railway tracks and carriages remained, but they rusted where they stood. We wandered up and down looking for a gas depot, eventually we found one. They did not have a similar bottle for me to exchange. Mine weighed two and a half kilos. I bought a twenty five kilo bottle including gas, a new regulator and some hose. Problem solved. I did not intend to find myself in the middle of the Indian Ocean unable to make a cup of tea.

We walked back to the pontoon to leave the gas bottles there. As we drew nearer I could see Charley in the cockpit of Loggerhead, she soon spotted me and shouted that the anchors were dragging. I shouted back that she should come to the Fish pontoon to collect me. She was reluctant to leave the yacht. Instead she waved at a man in a dugout canoe and beckoned him to collect me. I did not like this idea but no amount of shouting would persuade Charley to leave Loggerhead. I relented and climbed down into the canoe, there was two inches of water inside it. I squatted as low as I could but the canoe rocked dangerously. I had visions of swimming. So I had to sit lower, in the water. The canoe still rocked but not as much. The man behind me paddled, first towards the shore, as the waves were smaller there, and then towards the yacht. I was delighted when we drew alongside. I leapt aboard and then gave the man the small change that I had in my pocket. He seemed satisfied.

Charley explained that the anchors had been dragging and that she used the engine to avoid the mud. We quickly set about retrieving the anchors. Both were fouled, the delta by its chain and the fortress by the buoy line. The wind and tide had changed direction several times, swinging the yacht around.

We re-anchored in a slighter better spot and I went ashore again in the dinghy, taking two empty diesel containers and the yachts papers. I sought the manager of the fishing pontoon to ask if we could moor alongside, he agreed, for a consideration of twenty dollars a day. So I went back to the yacht and pulled up the two anchors again. The weather forecast had been accurate and it was now quite windy. I decided to reverse to the inside of the floating pontoon. The dinghy began to ship water and was in danger of overturning so I asked Charley to ease the painter so that it floated further from the yacht. The first approach to the inside of the pontoon was not quite close enough so I motored ahead a little to try again. The dinghy was now astern of us on a line about five metres long. I could not therefore motor astern or the line would foul the propeller. I asked Charley to secure the dinghy to the bow. This took a few moments, during which time the men on the pontoon must have wondered what we were doing. The tide was still ebbing and the wind blew the bow of the yacht away from the pontoon. I was then powerless to control her. There was no room ahead as the muddy bank was close. The pontoon was astern and the bridge to the pontoon was to starboard. We drifted towards the bridge. We managed to get a line to the men while Charley and I fended off the bridge. It was very amateurish but with a lot of effort we managed to moor alongside the pontoon. The lesson learnt; never try to moor with a dinghy in tow. I ran up the bridge to a woman selling bottles of beer at a kiosk and bought one for each of us. A couple of the chaps must have been Muslim as they took them back to the lady selling them, probably to get the money back.

We cleaned up the mess, there was mud from the anchors on the foredeck, and order was restored. I then went ashore again with my two helpers. I withdrew some more cash from an ATM, visited the port captain, who seemed satisfied, and then a garage to fill the two containers with diesel.

Charley and I walked ashore that evening and dined at a hotel. Next morning we went shopping for provisions and found an internet caf�. Whilst there we met two American girls doing voluntary work, we agreed to meet them for lunch. They brought another colleague and the five of us found a small restaurant. This restaurant had none of the dishes described on the board on the wall, so we walked to another.

The conversation was interesting, these girls, and others, are attached to various NGO's all trying to address the HIV problem in Mozambique. One of the girls expressed the opinion that all the effort and funding is directed at HIV when it might be better spread amongst all the social needs like health or education. She said that freely available drugs are being wasted as the patients are too malnourished to benefit from them and, more worryingly, that this may result in drug resistance.

We also discussed malaria. We bought Malarone in South Africa, said to be the best prevention, but the girls were being given outdated pharmaceuticals by their organisations, probably due to the cost.

There is a new Gallery of Mozambique.