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PASSAGE PLANNING |
Thank you to
Yacht
Seerose
for providing us with
this information
DAR
ES SALAAM TO TANGA - PART ONE
PLEASE NOTE: DUE TO THE FACT THAT THIS IS A VERY
LONG ARTICLE, WE HAVE BROKEN IT UP INTO THREE PARTS.
READ PART 2 & PART
3
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Tanzania |
The
harbour is a massive deep-water lagoon and I doubt
that there's a more beautiful and unique natural
harbour anywhere in the world. On entering, we observed
a floating market to starboard with a ferry-landing-jetty
and taxi rank on the starboard bow. Behind the jetty
was the city, with beautiful, gracious Victorian
buildings, some of them eight to ten stories high
with open air restuarants on their roofs. We noticed
our new South African flag flying proudly in a garden
in front of one of the buildings.
The shipping harbour was quite a distance away,
to port. On our stern was a Country Club, Golf Club
and several private mansions, with rolling lawns
down to the waters edge. All had private landing
jetties. |
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The vessels in the small craft harbour were of infinite
variety, comprising gracious Dhows, Chinese junks and
many more of every conceivable size and shape. Most were
owned by foreigners and used for tourist charter
Two of the crew from a Chinese Junk came alongside in
their tender. Apparently the youngster, who spoke perfect
English, was the PRO and the old man, who hailed from
Lamu in Kenya was the sail trimmer and rigger. The youngster
proudly intimated that Lamu was renowned for producing
the best sailors in the world and it was obvious that
he admired and deeply respected the old man. He chatted
on, telling us that their skipper was German, their Chef
was Chinese and their Cabin Boy was Tanzanian and that
the crew aboard all the vessels in the harbour were also
a hotch-potch of nationalities.
They offered us a lift ashore, and for the duration of
our short stay they ensured that we never had a problem
with transport to or from the jetty. On one occasion they
even rowed us ashore when their outboard was unavailable!
The following morning six officials from Customs, Immigration
and Health came aboard to effect clearance procedures.
They were courteous, efficient, cheerful and honest and
showed genuine interest in us, the yacht and our journey
thus far. We were charged $3US for a three month VISA
and given a legitimate receipt without having to ask for
it. They demanded nothing for themselves and Bob had the
rare pleasure of offering them refreshments and cigarettes
and tipping them of his own accord.
We'd planned to go ashore after they left but decided
to delay our visit as there appeared to be a massive parade
with thousands of cheering spectators passing along the
waterfront. We later discovered that it was our new President,
Nelson Mandela, in a cavalcade through the streets. Later
when we met fellow South Africans at the yacht club, they
told us we could have attended a cocktail party given
in his honour. He had published a request to meet any
South Africans who happened to be in the area. This function
apparently took place in the building where we'd seen
the South African flag flying.
After the fuss died down and the streets had cleared,
we cadged a lift ashore and made our way to the Embassy
Hotel where we treated ourselves to a slap up grill. Next
stop was the bank, then the Pharmacy, then the Mall and
finally the market where we stocked up on fresh produce
and a gigantic watermelon.
Having obtained permission we moved around to the Yacht
Club the following day. Clearing the harbour we entered
the first bay to the North and found ourselves tucked
behind a headland where an elevated face-brick clubhouse
overlooked the yachts at anchor below. Once again the
customary mansions ringed the headland but here they all
appeared to be occupied, as tenders were made fast at
the bottom of each flight of steps leading down to the
water.
On going ashore towards evening we were delighted to find
that there was every facility a cruising yachtie could
wish for. In addition to the ferry service there were
excellent ablution blocks, a chandlery, laundry service,
telephones, fax machines, taxis to the city and a modern
shopping centre close by. Moreover, in this part of Africa
yacht clubs double as country clubs, and consequently
the tremendous bar and restuarant was well patronised,
affording visiting yachties the opportunity to meet the
local folk.
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The view from the yacht club.
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Rori
Meiring, Secretary to the South African High Commissioner
introduced himself to us and treated us like royalty
for the duration of our stay. He also introduced
us to the South African Security guys who were travelling
with our President and it was good to converse with
fellow countrymen (in some of the eleven official
languages of our country!) They agonised over our
President who was apparently a security nightmare.
He persistently ignored their carefully planned
precautions by moving amongst the crowd, shaking
hands with the men and hugging and kissing the women
and children. |
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The following morning Lowell and Bea North, who were anchored
alongside us on Yacht "Wanago", called on VHF and invited
us for sundowners that evening, afterwhich we all went
ashore together for dinner. It transpired that they were
leaving for the States shortly with a stopover in London.
Lowell needed to undergo surgery to his shoulder and they
intended leaving their yacht in Dar during their absence.
They weren't familiar with London so we were delighted
to be able to recommend a good, well-situated and reasonably
priced hotel.
Throughout our stay we went ashore every evening and enjoyed
many giggles listening to the fabrications of some of
the "master blasters". These people frequent yacht clubs
throughout the world and the tales they relate make one
want to flop down into the nearest chair.
We figured it was only a seven hour passage to Zanzibar
so we set sail at sun-up on 7 June, arriving in time for
lunch ashore. A few dugouts lay on the beach just beyond
the waterline so Bob grabbed Ern's infamous "Nacala conch"
and let rip with a few tuneless blows. A head popped up
behind one of the dugouts. Bob blew again and we all joined
in with frantic waves and yells. The head became a body
and the body started dragging the dugout towards the waterline.
Jumps for joy and shouts of triumph from the yacht.
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Zanzibar town from the anchorage with the "House
of Wonders" towards the right. |
The Fishermen's Restuarant is situated on the wharf and
a fresh catch was being carried in as we arrived. By the
time we were seated Bob and Ern were salivating, as they'd
each picked out a crab the size of a serving platter.
I ordered a fruit salad which was so large I suspect it
could have fed everyone in the restaurant. I can't remember
what Liz ordered but the entire feast only cost $9US.
We wandered into a scuba dive shop close by and discovered
that it was run by a bunch of young South African ex-pats.
South Africa has many Moslem citizens but we knew little
about them and their culture as at the time it was illegal
for us to fraternize across the colour line in our country.
These perceptive young people realised this and spontaneously
educated us on mode of conduct and appropriate dress to
spare us possible embarrassment. Fortunately it transpired
that we were suitably attired so we set off to explore
the "maze" of stone town.
We found Zanzibar to be an extraordinary island with a
surprise around every corner and breathtakingly beautiful
beaches and reefs. The local Government was in the midst
of a massive restoration programme to the ancient buildings
constructed with coralitic stone centuries before. Many
of the men are magnificent cabinet makers and we had the
privilege of watching them at work carving replicas of
the massive ancient brass-studded doors that adorn every
doorway. It was fascinating to learn that the purpose
of these carvings, which were introduced centuries ago,
was to enable the occupants to advertise their trade or
occupation. A fisherman had fish carvings on his door,
a farmer had vegetables or flowers, and so forth.
They had recently launched an aggressive marketing campaign
to boost their tourist industry and we met tourists from
every corner of the world. I must say though that it was
incongruous to hear loud disco music emanating from an
ancient building!
For years I'd combed antique shops the world over to find
an ancient padlock for our wine cellar so I was over the
moon when I stumbled upon one in a locksmith shop. It
was in a huge box of used padlocks of yesteryear, all
of which had been repaired for resale. Mine had a modern
locking-mechanism skilfully concealed inside it's ancient
casing and the lock functions perfectly!
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A typical street in "Stone Town".
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We
then tried to get ourselves out of the maze and
even my Captain, who has the sense of direction
of a homing pigeon, was lost! Fortunately we were
commandeered by Mahommed, who appointed himself
our guide. In keeping with quaint eastern custom
he adressed me as "Mama" and whenever there were
steps or uneven surfaces to be negotiated he would
take my arm and, singing to the tune of the ever-popular
African song "Pole' Pole' Sa Sa" (carefully, carefully
- slowly, slowly), he substituted the words "Pole',
Pole' Mama".
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READ
PART 2 & PART
3
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