info@steerage.co.za
Disclaimer
|
|
|
|
|
PASSAGE PLANNING |
Thank
you to
Yacht
Seerose
for providing us with
this information
DURBAN
TO DAR ES SALAAM - PART TWO
PLEASE
NOTE: DUE TO THE FACT THAT THIS IS A VERY LONG ARTICLE,
WE HAVE BROKEN IT UP INTO THREE PARTS. READ
PART 1 & PART
3
|
On
14 April the copper pipe blew off our freezer and all
the gas escaped! We were in an absolute quandary as we
had no idea where to find temporary freezer storage in
this remote camping/fishing area. Fortunately the meat
was frozen solid so we hastily packed it into styrofoam
boxes.
David Grande, who was one of the guests at the lodge,
knew of a refrigeration technician in Maxixe so he offered
to send a message to him to come over the following morning.
He duly arrived and got busy and it was only after he'd
"finished" the work and had our $500 US clutched in his
tight little fist that he switched on the freezer. Our
brand new compressor immediately blew up! It transpired
that he'd used the wrong gas. He shrugged and apologised
....... that was the only gas he had!
There was a dinner party ashore the following evening
and I'd promised Pamiera I'd bring the makings of cheese
cake and show her how to prepare it. This was done in
no time at all so we couldn't work out why she only started
cooking the soup at 20h00. Dinner was finally served at
23h30 and the cheese cake never made it's appearance until
02h00 the following morning. It was served with some dreadful
cheap wine which we secretly emptied onto the grass. Who
needed wine at that hour anyway? But it was a positive
evening as one of the guests was able to tell us where
we could store our meat in Maxixe. Ern ran it over there
in the dinghy the next day.
Then our dinghy disappeared! The motor was still there
as we'd hauled it up on deck. Looking around we noticed
an old wodden dugout lying on the beach and immediately
suspected that one of the locals had "done a swop" with
us. Bob asked Ern to swim ashore and find out if Mike
could shed any light on the matter.
It transpired that two of his guests, Peter and George
wanted to go up the creek in search of dugongs so they'd
hired a dugout from a local. The dugout had no paddles
so Mike had lent them a spade. As there was no spade lying
on the beach, we correctly deduced that, being unable
to handle the dugout, they'd come out to the yacht and
simply helped themselves to our dinghy.
 |
 |
|
A
local collecting crabs in the lagoon at low tide.
|
That
dugout!
|
Late
that afternoon we spotted them returning, battling against
the incoming tide. One of them was paddling with the spade
and the other (believe it or not) was holding up his jacket
in the hopes of catching some wind for his "sail"! Ern
offered to go to their rescue but delayed doing so for
long enough to teach them a lesson. He first left them
to bake in the merciless hot afternoon sun then to chill
in the cold evening breeze, by which time they were both
completely hoarse from shouting out to us for assistance,
while we'd pretended not to hear them!
The following day while Bob was replacing the globe in
the compass and resetting it as best he could, we picked
up radio contact from the yacht "Star Cat" which was approaching
Inhambane. Bob "talked" them into the bay and it transpired
that they had a refrigeration technician on board. Once
more our spirits soared!
Immediately they'd dropped anchor Charlie came over to
look at the fridge. He was unable to assist us but we
were nevertheless cheered by his announcement that their
chef was expecting us for dinner and Baracuda steaks were
on the menu. They were a super, festive crowd introducing
themselves as "Billy the Chef"; "Izzy the Groper"; "Linda
the Loo Lady"; "Trevor the hooded Israelite"; "Gruesome
George"; "Indiana Jonathan" and "Max" the skipper.
The following day the crew went off to dive the wreck
armed with appropriate protection gear and Bob and I set
off up the lagoon to see if we could find something interesting
for dinner. We got a crayfish and a bucketful of crabs
and that evening "Chef extraordinaire" Bob, prepared a
delicious dinner.
One day we took a two and a half hour dinghy ride over
to Maxixe to cash travellers cheques. We left our dinghy
at the camp site and cadged a lift to town with David
Grande to find a money changer and buy petrol. Missions
accomplished we bought ourselves some ice-cold cokes and
boarded the ferry for a visit to Inhambane town. Half
way across the bay the hydraulic steering ran out of fluid
and we were told to disembark. "She bloken", informed
the Captain in pigeon English.
An enterprising dhow-owner drew up alongside and for a
considerable fee, took us ashore. I shall never know how
I managed to board as the descent from the ferry to the
dhow was about a two metre drop. Once aboard we were instructed
to sit upon a narrow cross-board. There was no deck below
so we had to hang onto the cross-board for dear life.
He cut the motor just short of the beach and evicted all
passengers into waist-deep water. Liz logged the next
episode thus:-
"Bob, as gentlemanly as ever, offered Sally a lift on
his shoulders across this deep channel and needless to
say it was almost a disaster. Sally was perched precariously
above giggling while Bob staggered around clutching onto
the dhow for support. The odds were against Bob who battled
to maintain his balance in the soft sinking sand with
water to his waist, an outgoing tide and Sally shaking
with laughter on his shoulders. Ern was waiting to catch
'the hat' and I was trying to get the camera out to capture
the historic splash!! But the hero of the hour made it
safely to land and set his Lady down as dry as a bear!!"
We wandered around in search of a restaurant and ordered
"Gahlinka" (chicken) and "Lula" (squid). As it was being
served Julian, our new friend whom we'd met on the ferry,
popped out of the woodwork and seated himself beside me.
He never ordered anything so I offered him a taste of
mine. The poor chap must have been starving because he
devoured most of my meal. After lunch we visited the market
to buy fresh fruit and vegetables for the yacht and then
made our way back to the jetty. Pathetic little beggars
followed us all the way.
Our chartered dhow back to Maxixe was owned and operated
by Harold. He told us that he knew South Africa well as
he had worked in a coalmine in Witbank. He'd originally
gone there because he coundn't find work back home. This
way he'd accumulated sufficient funds to purchase his
own dhow but still returned each year to subsidize his
income. "Business bad in Mozambique now, no more tourist
come".
Due to a strong headwind our three-hour dinghy ride from
Maxixe back to the yacht was wild, wet and freezing cold.
On arrival back at the yacht we each had a sherry and
a mug of hot coffee laced with condensed milk to thaw
us out. It had been a long day and we were a very tired
ship that night.
We backtracked to Maputo on 22 April as there were no
immigration facilities at Inhambane as yet and we hadn't
been able to check into Mozambique. We also needed to
locate a new compressor and find someone to repair the
fridge.
We'd hardly dropped anchor when Immigration and Customs
officials, who'd obviously been watching us through binoculars,
pulled alongside. They boarded wearing their filthy leather-soled
shoes and as the first one hit the deck I opened my mouth.....
then immediately shut it again as Bob gave me "the look"!
Black lace-up shoes are a status symbol in this neck of
the woods where most people have no shoes at all. Furthermore
they were obviously totally ignorant of the damage they'd
caused to our deck. With a forced smile I enquired whether
they'd prefer tea or coffee. They said they'd have whiskey.
The hour was 09h00! In anticipation of such occasions
the Admiral had advised us to cart some cheap whisky with
us so I produced a bottle of it and the four of them flattened
it in under an hour.
They told us there were no immigration offices North of
Maputo and offered to simultaneously stamp us out of Mozambique.
This way we'd be spared the trouble of having to sail
back to Maputo when we wanted to exit. We parted with
an additional $12 US. The following day we ran into one
of them in town and he relieved us of yet a further $12US......for
being in the country illegally!
That evening Bob prevented a catamaran from being dashed
to pieces against the sea wall of the small craft harbour.
All the crew had gone ashore and we suddenly noticed this
yacht flying past Seerose with nobody on board. Apparently
it had dragged anchor. Bob jumped into our dinghy and
gave chase, then boarded and let out chain until the anchor
dug in and held. He managed to stop it just a couple of
metres short of the wall.
Ed arranged for one of his friends Jose d'Almeide to attend
to our refrigeration problems. Jose collected Bob from
the harbour the following day and together they scoured
Maputo, but as anticipated, there were no compressors
available. Our only option was to airfreight one from
Johannesburg.
We realised that we were going to be in Maputo for some
time so we decided to hire a car and were kept waiting
at the Continental hotel for two hours before it arrived.
Bob decided to cash some travellers cheques whilst we
were waiting but changed his mind when they told him we'd
be required to pay 8% handling charges. Our miserable
forex allowance was starting to look really sick!
We needed some basic supplies including porridge, so we
made our way to a grocery store. The shelves were bare
but the two sidewalls of the shop were lined with 100
lb bags of maize meal, each of which was stamped:-
|
NOT
FOR SALE
|
|
GIFT
OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
|
Hopefully we made our point by refusing to buy it.
Our next stop was the pharmacy where we gazed with shock
at the rows of empty shelves. They never even had asprin
in stock, but the shelves were packed to capacity with
bottled pureed baby food. It didn't take a rocket scientist
to figure that one out! Traditionally African women breastfeed
their children until they're weaned onto maize meal and
they certainly don't have the means to purchase bottled
baby food! Obviously this was another "gift to the nation"
snaffled by the powers that be and sold to the retailers.
Ten days later the compressor finally arrived and Jose
came aboard first thing next morning to install it. He
found that the original problem had developed because
the technician who'd done the conversion to 220v in Durban
had connected the high and low pressure pipes the wrong
way around. Jose spent an entire day on the yacht, meticuously
checking, adjusting and repairing everything. He only
charged $300 US for the job and we never had any further
problems with it.
As Ed had offered to organise our clearance we only needed
to pay $14US and we finally left Maputo on 7 May. We were
given a right royal send off by Jose and his grandson
on their Hobie cat and three skiboats filled with his
friends, who escorted us all the way out of the bay.
Three days later when we anchored back at Linga Linga
where there wasn't a living soul in sight. We went ashore
to find Mike bedridden. He told us that during our absence
he'd been hospitalised with cerebral malaria and that
after his discharge he'd returned to the lodge to find
that Pamiera had cleared off with all his food and alcohol
and as many of his possessions as she could carry.
We took him supplies from the yacht, cooked him some nourishing
meals and stayed for another three days until he was back
on his feet. He was longing for a wee drop of "laughing
gas" so we gave him some decent wine and a bottle of the
disgusting whiskey. Ern then collected our meat from the
camp site and finally, at midday on 13 May, we said goodbye
to Paradise and headed North.
It was a busy day on the SSB radio. We picked up Tony
Britchford who runs the Maritime Mobile Net at Kilifi
Creek in Kenya. He issued a warning to all yachties about
"rip-offs" by corrupt officials at Nose Be', Madagascar.
According to his weather report it seemed that we were
in for some excellent sailing weather. Bob contacted our
neighbours Roy & Verna Wood in the marina in Durban
and Ziggi on Dio Valente. It proved to be our best sailing
day since leaving Durban and we covered over 150 miles,
with winds which at times were up to 30 kts.
The following day we passed Margaruque, Benguera and Bazaruto
Islands and the crew, who were fishing off the stern,
caught a Dorado and a Barracuda. We barbequed on deck
and served the fish with potatoes, salads and rolls.
We really missed the lighthouses, as at night they were
our only land marks and we hadn't seen any since leaving
South Africa. We had a raucus chuckle whilst speculating
on whether the government simply lacked the funds to purchase
new globes, or whether someone had managed to steal the
lighthouses!
The crew had the time of their lives, surfing off the
side of the yacht and swimming off the stern. We spent
most of our days sun-tanning and relaxing on deck and
encouraged by the clear skies, did a lot of star-gazing
at night. As we were in the shipping lane we experienced
a fair amount of traffic with always a trawler or ship
somewhere in sight. It proved to be an idyllic six day
sail and we reached Mozambique Island at 19h30 on 19 May.
 |
 |
|
Surf's
up!
|
Lobster - note the size of the 20 pack cigs, in
foreground.
|
|
|
|
|
READ
PART 1 & PART
3
_________________________
|
|
|
|
