Richards Bay, South Africa

Yeh! I have sailed the Indian Ocean!

On Saturday morning, November 17, I entered Richards Bay, South Africa just as the sun came up. I have happily and successfully sailed on my own from Australia to South Africa across the Indian Ocean, one of the big three great oceans in the world.

The crossing has taken 7 months with some 70 sailing days and I have covered 9,000 miles or 14,500 kms. There were three major ocean passages: Darwin to Cocas Keeling Island then to Rodriguez and the last passage from Reunion to South Africa.  Each passage took about 14 days. I spent a few weeks in Darwin and Cocas and a week each in Rodrigeus, Mauritius and Reunion. How’s that for an adventure?

To share this last leg of the passage with you, let me tell you about:

• The welcome to South Africa
• Great moments while at sea
• Nice people in the middle of the Indian Ocean
• A day sail down the South African coast

The welcome to South Africa
My plan was to reach Richards Bay at first light around 5 in the morning. Twenty miles from the shore I stopped the boat to wait as otherwise I would arrive too early for port entry, so had time to make the South African courtesy flag. I then crossed the Agulhas Current which runs south at speeds of up to 7 knots or 10 kph. Half way across, I was met by a south westerly wind coming in the opposite direction that was quickly growing stronger.  This is the combination you do not want.  The sea is pushing into the wind and the sea rises very steeply, very quickly. The boat starts going up and down as if you are riding the offspring of a hobby horse that was mated with a bucking bull machine that you see in the pubs.

By the time I reached the shelter of the bay and avoided another two ships I was ready to stop. I had not slept very much in the previous 3 days. Merchant ships, a rough sea, strong winds and a fast boat dictated total commitment. For three days I had sailed through the shipping lanes with container ships, bulk carriers and oil tankers going to all points of the compass.  The other night there were 21 ships profiled on the automatic identification device. There was no order and no direction, “those travelling north please keep to the left hand side”, it was every ship for itself. If a ship came within 24 minutes of me an alarm would sound. I would then climb out of the bunk, size up the situation on the chart plotter, alter the sails so I could change direction, call up the ship to make sure they can see me and ensure that they are happy to alter course if necessary.

A very pleasant port controller over the radio welcomed me to Richards Bay which has the world’s largest coal loader. I motored into the little boat harbour to tie up against the wall in the international section to wait for customs, immigration and the police.  As I approached the wall I had badly misjudged my arrival and come close to another yacht. From down below, emerged a little round faced man who just flew into me with such a vulgar spray for just for coming near his boat. I had to say to the red faced chap, himself a foreigner from the land of the maple leaf, that if he would give me a break and just give me a hand instead of abusing me at six in the morning I would very much appreciate his kindness. He was absolutely not a morning person and was a rare yachtie, a rude individual. He then went on to tell me in not so hushed tones how much he hated solo sailors. I then had to endure with him the three things I find most boring in life, wineries, playing golf and being near people who hate lone sailors. A group of far more pleasant yachties came to my rescue and Hendi, a South African, who saw my eyes falling out of my head, invited me on to his boat for a cup of tea and toast.

From that moment on, I could not have wished to meet nicer people and that is the way it has stayed for the week I spent at Richards Bay. Zululand Yacht Club was the friendliest and most party orientated club I have visited, who fussed over international sailors. Every night the locals have some gathering organised, be it a braai (BBQ), a sing-a-long in the bar, a “some reason” party, or dinner on someone’s boat, or at a club member’s home.

Upon arrival in South Africa my first mission was to have a hair cut and buy my favourite biltong (or beef jerky). I have been know as the bar snack kid, so I looked forward to eating ostrich, kudu and springbok biltong. Biltong is seasoned dried meat that even the flies have given up on. I purchased the complete collection and was into my second piece of dried kudu when one of my front teeth sheared off. Welcome to South Africa, but smile with your mouth shut.

Great moments of being at sea
I have been at sea for 5 days now and have been sailing down the coast of Madagascar some 150 miles out to sea on my way to South Africa. Last night the wind dropped off to nothing just as the sun was setting so I turned on the motor. By 2 in the morning the wind was again blowing and a storm was in full flight with the sky and the sea lighting up with silver magnesium light.  With the lighting and the thunder came the rain and it was an ideal opportunity to give the clothes I was washing a good rinse.

I put the buckets out to collect some rain water and as I went back into the cabin I was followed by very large mayflies who took up positions under the lights and on the glowing chart plotter and radar screens. How did they get here this far out at sea, and not just the odd one but a whole collection of them? I turned all the lights off but they stayed and stayed so I left them and went to bed. Throughout the dark hours of the morning when I got up, they were still there but by dawn every one of them had gone.

In the first light of a new day, while adjusting the sails, I found the largest flying fish that had ever graced the Lady. It was lying in the cockpit with an expression of “bugger, messed that flight up, and, never be fooled by a bright light in the night”. She went back into the sea. I then happened to look out to sea and, a hundred yards away, a tail of a large, black whale was pointing into the air and it slowly dropped back into the sea. That’s not a bad way to start a new day.

The excitement did not end. The wind grew stronger and the navy blue sea grew bigger under a grey sky. The sea was what you call a confused sea with waves coming from different directions and varying in size and distance between them. Not a pleasant way to have your cereal as I cleaned it off the floor. I almost felt like saying to the sea, “I know you are confused, we all get that way at times. Do you want to talk about it?” She was not in the mood and was sending along waves that would not be out of place at Bondi Beach. I almost expected to see a few surfies fighting each other to ride the wave. The waves would crash into the boat, sending tons of water over her. The Lady would stop still for a moment, give herself a shake, and head off again.

You have to admire the power of the sea. Try this at home. Fill a 70 cent Woolworths’ plastic bucket full of water and then have someone throw it over you. You then repeat the exercise by throwing a bucket of water over them. You then sit down together with a beer and compare notes. A bucket of water is heavy and the power of the water is substantial. You learn so much when you are out at sea on your own.

Nice people you meet in the middle of the ocean
I am about half way through this passage and have settled into the fun and dramas that sailing brings. When sailing the ocean blue it is quite correct to say that what happened yesterday, the same will happen today and more than likely will happen tomorrow. Well, this leg of the journey has been far from that and has been the hardest passage of the trip across the Indian Ocean. One day it is blowing a gale, with big winds and big seas that are unforgiving. The next is so placid that you think yesterday has not happened and you are motoring.

Last night in the middle of a blow, the staysail, which is one of the 2 sails that rolls up around itself when not needed, decided to set me a new challenge. The rope that is used to roll up this sail came undone and required me to go up the front of the bouncing boat and roll the sail up by hand. To top off the challenge, two other ropes got seriously tangled and needed to be cut away. The sail was flapping so badly it was like being belted in the head by a big man. Not a pleasant experience but had to be done if I did not want to wreck the sail and I badly needed to slow down the boat speed. When I finished fighting the sail I came below to discover that a pump had gone on strike and water was flooding the Powder Room floor. Also the VHF radio that is used to speak to other ships wanted to turn itself off and on as it wished. Where do they get this attitude? To top it all off, the ship, Zosco Zhoushan, was going to pass very close. At four in the morning I decided I could not make the radio work, let alone pronounce the name of the ship, so I decided that the flooded floor could wait and if a boat ran me down, so be it. I climbed into my bunk and went to sleep, knowing that the boat was not going to sink, simply because God was on my side. I love the logic. When I awoke an hour later I took a different attitude to the problems and set about solving them.

Today the winds were light and the sea calm. A large container ship, Terra Lumina, on its way to Lagos, was going to pass close so I called it up on the now repaired radio.  The first officer was a very pleasant chap and wanted a conversation which I was more than happy to have. He talked about how wonderful Sydney Harbour was and, even if he was off watch, would go up on deck to enjoy the beauty as the ship entered the harbour.  When he found out that I was a solo sailor he asked if there was anything that I needed and, if I did, he would come close to my boat and drop it off.  Although I was low on milk, I was not ready for such an experience but thanked him for his offer. As it was, he came very close and there he was waving from the bridge of the ship.  He was a few hundred yards away but that appears very close when you see the size of these ships and how small I am bobbing in these seas.

An hour or so later, the Meask Dunbar, another huge container ship was on its way to Brazil and was going to pass close to me so I called them on the radio to make sure they could see me.  The first officer, Romilla, was also ready for a chat. He was from the Philippines and had spent his life at sea. He was looking forward to leaving the ship just before Christmas so he could be at home with his wife and 2 year old daughter. He travels the world but rarely gets off the ship. When he arrives in Brazil the ship will be in port for just 18 hours and he will be working on the unloading and loading, then it is back to sea. He was a lovely bloke and we talked for a good half hour. Again, he wanted to know if I needed anything and I was happy to settle for the latest weather update. He said I was the first solo sailor that he had had a conversation with and told me how much he had enjoyed himself, plus I helped keep him awake during his watch. I felt the same way. More often than not, these officers are very business like in their response to your call but these guys were just lovely to speak with while on this big ocean.

One day sail down the South African coast
The seas along this coast are famous for being rough with storms coming up the coast on a regular basis. To ensure that I picked the right weather patterns and could position myself the right distance from the coast, I engaged the services of Vince, a well know professional sailor, to advise me daily on the weather and sailing conditions.

I left Richard Bay in the middle of the night for a one day sail south to Durban. Good winds and big sea pushed me along nicely. As I approached Durban, I called up the port control to seek permission to enter the port and to supply details about myself and the boat. This is one of the busiest ports I had sailed into. For two hours I was steered around ships sitting at anchor waiting to go into the port.  My automatic identification system showed 56 ships in the port or waiting outside. I could also see a storm approaching with black clouds and lighting. I pulled down the sails and revved up the engine with the hope of getting into the port before the storm broke. Just two miles from the entrance, port control called me to say the storm was coming and they were going to close the port until the storm passed. This storm had not been expected nor been mentioned by the weather forecasters.

Then bang, the wind roared in. One of the ships recorded the storm howling at 73 knots or close to 120 kph. That is a big wind and the sea was instantly foaming. I tied down the steering, put in the wash boards - shut the back door - and went below just moments before the engine alarms went off. The engine was overheating so I shut it down and then I was drifting. Not a good way to be.

I sat at the navigation table looking at the chart plotter, a computer screen that shows an electronic map and where the ships are. I was drifting sideways with the wind in total control. A big gust of wind came and the boat heeled over until the boat was lying on its side. Green water was rushing past the port holes and I was hanging on sideways.  This is what is called a knockdown. The boat was pushed over by ninety degrees and the rigging and the mast were in the water. It stayed that way for just a few moments and then the boat came back up again.

The wind continued to roar through the rigging whilst the Lady was being pushed over with the sea bashing into her. I just sat in the chair and watched the screen as I was afraid that I would drift onto a ship and that would have been the end of me, my boat and the journey. God was on my side as those ships that were down wind of me were moving quickly out to sea and giving me a clear passage to be blown along at the mercy of the wind and the sea.  Then bang, and again the Lady laid herself down just like before. By this time I was getting worried about the rigging and hoping the mast was not going to come down around me. While all this was going on, I was listening to the radio with port control and the ships talking to one another. Chaos had broken out. A ship alongside a wharf had broken its lines and was drifting onto another ship. Tugs boats were called to go to her rescue. Ships were reporting their movements and it was every one for himself. Through the radio chatter, the port controllers called me up several times to make sure I was okay. They could see me being tossed around. 

The storm raged for about twenty minutes and I just sat and hung on. I guess I should have been preparing to do something just in case but I was more interested in seeing how the Lady handled this weather. Oh what a beautiful Lady, she just rode it out time and time again.  The wind was furious. When I did venture out into the cockpit to tighten some ropes the sea spray blew so hard, it was like standing in front of a sand blaster. It not only hurt but was also painful. Suffice to say, the visit outside was very short lived. The tightly tied down ropes on the deck were thrashing around and they sounded like men banging the deck with hammers.

By this time I was into the fourth decade of the rosary, prayers that good Catholics say even when their lives are not in danger. The wind dropped and I was safe. The engine had cooled down and I motored to the port entrance. I called up the controllers and they allowed me to enter the port and I thanked them most sincerely for watching out for me.

When I arrived at the yacht club marina it was carnage. The marina had been torn apart; boats were twisted around one another and it was a scene of general chaos.  Through all of this, two Peters were standing on the end of the marina waving at me. One was the American Peter I had not seen since Mauritius although I had talked to him and his wife Beth everyday on the radio. The other Peter was a Frenchman I had not seen for two months and it was an absolute delight to be greeted by them. I came along side the broken marina and they jumped onto the boat and helped me find a place to tie up the Lady.

I was taken to one of the boats I knew for a celebratory drink and was greeted by other yachties that I had not seen for months. It was a lovely reunion heightened by the events that had just happened. These people understood what I had just been through. I was totally exhausted and went back to the boat to sleep. In the blackness of the night I lay in my bunk reliving the afternoon.  I knew I had been in a very serious situation and if something had gone wrong my life options were not good. I am not trying to be a “he man” when I say I was not scared, yes I was very concerned but I trusted the Lady and wished for the storm to end. I was proud that I had everything inside the boat locked away other than a book on adventures at sea that had flown across the cabin and hit me in the head. I also realised that I had learnt so much from sailing across the Indian Ocean and that I automatically did things and, best of all, I believed in myself and my ability.  I also had time to finish saying the rosary and give thanks.

In the morning I discovered that two aerials mounted on top of the solar cells were totally destroyed and my body felt like I had fought with a monster, but I still had a big smile on my face. Yes I made it.

Next step
I am sailing down the coast to Cape Town where I will celebrate Christmas and the New Year with a group of lovely people from other boats whom I have met whilst on my journey. I will also take time to undertake a few repairs and have a look around this interesting country. I will leave the boat at a safe marina and come back to Australia in late January to work for a few months and bore people with stories from the sea.

I can be contacted on my cell phone with a local South African number, +27 76547 1685.

I now know that I love sailing the seas and the challenge that it brings, and I also so much enjoy visiting ports and the people who live there.

Thank you to all who send me messages, call me and enjoy sharing my little adventure.

Love
Peter

Thank you to my supporters:

–       Medical Industries Australia for an extensive offshore medical kit
–       JSE Marine Electrical for extensive spare parts and tools
–       Endeavour Marine for spare parts for the Volvo Penta engine