RTW Leg 24: The Seychelles to South Africa

Durban Cathedral: Lucy bumming a fag from a nun.

If, five years ago, you had told the First Mate she would be spending Christmas in South Africa, but she would be sailing there, she would probably have laughed and choked on her glass of Sauvignon!  But there we were, whizzing down the Eastern Cape heading for Gordons Bay near Cape Town. 

Broadsword running

The passage was an epic and this part of our circumnavigation has without doubt been the most challenging.  Sailing from the north of the Mozambique channel south to Cape Town is one of the most treacherous stretches of sea second only to the Grand Banks off Novia Scotia (remember the Perfect Storm?). Its challenges stem from the shortness of the weather windows, the ferocity of the weather systems, combined with the Agulhas Current and the paucity of safe havens on the coastline.  The Agulhas Current races south at four knots and an opposing south westerly creates standing waves of up to twelve meters.  Get caught in that, and your toast. This is the one the first mate has been most scared about and the one the Captain has researched, checked, double checked and referred to professional weather routers on.

We flew over the marina on our return and Lucy snapped this shot of Broadsword

She will bring you up to date.  From The Seychelles we returned to the UK on the 10th October for five weeks. The Captain had business to attend too and The First Mate used the time catching up with family and friends and getting back to Coll.  Frantic and quite emotional, eight months had been a long time away from home. We flew back the Seychelles on the 14th November and being back on board Broadsword was wonderful.  She was still there and still afloat! But the heat.  Oh, my giddy aunt, it was a sweat fest (as the Captain would say). There was not much time to enjoy the delights of the Seychelles as main sail had been repaired and new sail batons arrived from the UK, both now needing to be fitted in temperatures of 35 plus degrees.  Jobs done, we did manage to squeeze a car hire and  a dive, one of our best ever swimming with rays, sharks and turtles.  Pretty awesome.

Main sail under repair in the sail loft

The next day we said our fair wells to Mark and Isabelle on Cap Du Moil who were on the same track as us and would become daily email companions as we both worked our way south. We were heading for Mayotte, a French territory at the north end of the channel between Mozambique and Madagascar. We had had to make the sad decision not to go to Madagascar.  The bureaucracy of clearing out could have meant being stuck there for a week or more and we were on a tight time schedule.   Cape Town and Christmas with the First Mate’s family was the objective. It is becoming a bit of a habit that when we set off having been away from the boat for some time that weather likes to show you who’s boss.  It was horrible.  The wind was unrelenting for the first few nights, tropical storms with lighting were popping all around.  A lighting strike on the mast would fry all our electronics causing tens of thousands of pounds of damage, not to mention the risk to life. 

Bohemian Rhapsady: Very very frightening

This was then followed by days of wind and rain on the beam with sudden squalls forcing both the Captain and First Mate to retreat below and shut the companion way.  It was claustrophobic, threatening and terrifying with the occasional hurl across the interior of the boat with unexpected violence.   The obligatory tears flowed.  It was horrible and the worst part was, we knew there was plenty more. It was then that the battered crew decided what needed to be done.  One of our trusty “In Event of Emergencies” Fray Bentos tins needed to be opened. What an absolute treat.  Just the stuff to raise the crew’s spirits.  The wind thankfully abated, and we limped into the Island of Mayotte in the dark at 3am, thankfully avoiding the sunken yacht, abandoned in the bay. 

Arriving in Mayotte, we anchored by a not so fortunate yacht.

We caught a couple of hours of sleep and then headed off to clear in.  This involved going to the airport for Immigration and passport control.  We caught a taxi there but the taxi drivers English and the First Mate’s O level French didn’t quite cohere.  There would be no taxis to take us back to the harbour until the next flight arrived that evening. We were stranded at the other side of the island in staggering hot weather and couldn’t get to the next office (where forms would be stamped and duplicated, in writing, etc …. etc….).  The First Mate spotted one of the policemen heading out on his lunchtime break and managed to tell him what had happened.  With a gaulish shrug and smile, he grabbed two other police officers and we got a lift back into town in the back of a police car!  A first for the First Mate, not so sure about the Captain though.  That’s service for you.

Something you wont see on the UK streets every day

We then had to find the immigration offices and eventually after many wrong turns we eventually found Sylvestre the Capitanerie (harbour master).  He was not happy to see us, in fact he was raging.  The crew were actually quite scared.  Thankfully he was not raging at us but at the inefficiency of the system on Mayotte.  Twenty years in the French Navy and he was so fed up and frustrated with the lack of things being done properly.  He piled us into his car and frogged marched us to the local Yacht Club.  There we found the ‘Director’ who had decided to skive off for the day and was holding court with the rest of his yachty pals whilst supping on an ice-cold beer.  Paper work was eventually done and the crew were fit to drop by this stage.  Sylvester took them under his wing and took us out to lunch and we sampled delicious brochettes, a Mayotte delicacy of skewered fish/steak washed down with cool drinks.  It’s the kindness of strangers which proves itself time and again on our journey.  It truly speaks volumes.  During the three days we were in Mayotte we managed to spend time at anchor and relax and swim.  Get a dive in.  Re provision at a Carrefour and take stock before rushing off again.

Stripping, cleaning and greasing a winch. One down, six to go.

Our next stop was going to be Mozambique but again we were constantly against the clock and being tested by weather systems and windows.  All we could muster at Mozambique was two days at anchor in unbelievably choppy conditions and surrounded by thousands of pretty nasty looking jelly fish.

In Mozambique, if your country flag or ensign is larger than the Mozambique curtisy flag (flown from the shroud), you are fined $100. We bought this tiny ensign just in case.

Off we set again for Richard’s Bay which is the top right corner of South Africa.  At last!  We are getting nearer. We spent four days in Zululand Marina.  Not very salubrious, naughty stealing monkeys but it did have a toy shop for the Captain (chandlers) a washing machine and such an amazing welcome. Not just from the locals but the other sailors from around the world.  Brais were had and maybe a few drinks but it was so, so lovely to speak to other people.  The First Mate loves the Captain dearly, but there are times when it is a bloody miracle that they are still married, particularly when he was last seen pished in a car park dancing with Tim who he had only met three hours previously.

Lucy grabs a hair cut from a Swiss neigbour who in a previous life was a professional coiffeur.

It is at this point that there was a revelation.  It took one person to make us see sense. We have made friends with a couple Tristan from the UK and Weendy from Colombia.   Tristan popped round for a coffee and chat about the next passage plan.  We were going to buddy up as we progressed down the coast riding the Agulhas jet stream, safety in numbers.  We had been swapping stories and tales of triumph and woe and he just said “What are you doing?  You are knocking yourselves out trying to get round the world  in quick time and not being able to do what you set out to achieve at the beginning of the trip.   Go home for the family wedding in May, and then spend the next 6 months recharging and being with the people that you miss.”

So, here’s the plan;  we spend Christmas in Cape Town.  Spend a month or so in Namibia.  Carry on to Brazil and sail up to Trinidad by the end of April.  Here we will haul the boat out and get all the jobs that need to be done.  Then go home for nephew Cameron and Becks’ wedding in May and enjoy the summer at home on Coll and only then return to Broadsword in October…..result!  With this light bulb moment, the crew is a lot more relaxed and feels less pressured and it’s a joy to be able to make some plans for when we are at home.

Boxer short wash day

 A lot of people in Richard’s Bay said that it would be nigh on impossible to make Cape Town for Christmas, and some sage advice offered by a local said the passage was like eating an elephant, one bite at a time.  We would sail from Richards Bay, to Durban, to East London.  Then if necessary, have weather stops at Port Elizabeth, Knysna and Mosel Bay before entering False Bay and our objective Gordons Bay. With the weather windows not cooperating, the Captain and First Mate were rushing around trying to find back up plans including leaving Broadsword at East London and flying from there to Cape Town.

Pangaea and Broadsword leave Richards Bay together

Broadsword and Pangaea, Tristan and Weendy’s boat (which is drop dead gorgeous, by the way)  left Richard’s Bay in a sort of caravan with other boats large and small.  All with the same objective of reaching Cape Town or Knysna for Christmas.  It was really comforting to be able to feel there were within reach of each other for support.  This was to be another fairly boisterous passage with a large, confused sea, not helped by the good ship Pangea leading the Broadsword crew astray the night before.  Both captains seemed to have come over all queezy and their First Mates had to take over.  Lightweights. To be fair the sea was quite nauseating.

Is she? Is she not?

We arrived in Durban in a stiff breeze, less than ideal for manoevering into a tight berth, but the welcome was wonderful with the Yacht Club Commodore Vince gifting us a bottle of red on the pontoon.  With Tristan and Weendy in tow, we hailed an Uber and we ventured out into gritty Durban to explore the sights.  We found the cathedral, but it was closed.  Something about the Springboks having won some important rugby match and the country being given a public holiday.  Whatever. It was closed but Weendy persuaded a passing priest to let us in and have a wee look around and light a candle.  Another priest happened by in a football shirt we were pleased to be blessed by him.  All a wee bit surreal but eventful.  Meanwhile, Captain Heathen said he never felt safer chatting to the Priest in his cream cassock out on the street in dodgiest part of Durban.

Riding the Agulhas Current. When wind and current is aligned, the Agulhas is safe and can give you 4.5 kts. Here we are flying at over 12 knots.

After three days in Durban and fabulous meal out, it was onto to East London.  There was a short 36 hour weather window and we needed 36 hours for the passage.  It was going to be tight but we needed every window we could grab if the good ship Broadsword was to make Gordons Bay for Christmas.  The passage was uneventful and we made the Buffalo River Yacht Club in good time mooring in the river. Another three days in East London and the weather gods were looking in our favour and a window was opening up giving us a good three days that we needed to make Gordons Bay.

Buffalo River with our not so salubrious neighbour

Of we set on the final push with thoughts of the First Mate’s parents and brother, standing on the quayside waving us in like heroes.  On the third day, we were literally within three hours of our arrival at four in the morning when we realised that the wind getting stronger and stronger and not dying down as expected. This had not been forecasted. We had our sail fully out and very quickly we became overwhelmed pulling the boat to starboard we were now heading for a headland just two miles away.  The Captain struggled with pure determined strength to get the boat to come round, but the wind had built rapidly from 20 knots to 45 knots.  It was not a gust or passing squall and was not showing any signs of giving up.   The Captain battled on at the helm in the dark, clipped into the life line lashed by the waves but simply could not regain control.  The First Mate stayed down below and was busy praying to quite literally to anyone that would listen, when there was a huge explosion above her head.  Glass shards went everywhere.  The block which routed our preventer* line from the boom to a cockpit winch, had exploded and been ripped off the deck cleat and had been fired like a bullet straight through our spray hood and windscreen. Tiny flecks of glass were everywhere and the boom had buckled and bent under the violent force; such was the strength of the wind.  The canvas sprayhood was ripped through and had to be gathered and tied down with rope, all in the dark in a howling gale. Broadsword had never accumulated such damage in such a short time.  It was horrible.  The First Mate did what any First Mate would do….she got the dustpan and brush out and set to work clearing up down below.  Somehow, The Captain managed to get a reef in and slowly regain control, bringing Broadsword into False Bay where the mountains offered some protection and the wind thankfully reduced.

After the mayhem, I grabbed this shot as we entered False Bay

The Captain managed to constrain his horror of the damage to poor Broadsword.   So, with strained smiles on our faces, as dawn broke the horizon, we approached the harbour and there were our family wildly waving at us in the distance.  It was a very emotional moment…..but not for the all the obvious reasons.

Reunited at last. Lucy with her brother and sister in law, Michael and Tracy.

Post Script

This was our first Christmas away from our children and we missed them dreadfully.  Some of you have written, sent messages and chat from home.   Some rude, some ridiculous and some hysterically funny (JE, thank you). You really have no idea how much they mean to us and keep our spirits up.  We welcome them most whole heartedly.  

*Preventer:  A tight line attached to the boom led to a block forward and then aft to the cockpit.  It is intended to prevent the boom crashing dangerously from one side to the other in an accidental gybe.  An accidental gybe can happen when running with the wind behind and the yacht changes course or the wind changes direction, forcing your main sail to the other side.  Accidental gybes can be damaging and incredibly dangerous.  When we crossed the Atlantic with the ARC in 2021, one boat suffered a terrible tragedy when an accidental gybe killed one of the crew when he was struck on the head by a crashing boom during a storm.