Namibia's Skeleton Coast

The bones of more than a thousand ships are said to be scattered on the shores of the coast we're following north. Before the days of GPS, when the daily fogs rolled in, the navigators aboard ships were easily disoriented. I can see why. The roar of the surf is omnipresent, it seems to come from all directions as it bounces off the thousand foot high dunes.

We tucked into Hottentot Bay last night to let a heavy swell roll through (though it rolled right into the anchorage) and to take in some of the dune-scape. Even if the surf on shore weren't as high as houses, I'm not sure we'd venture onto the beach. There are the bones of an old ship, which would be interesting to explore, and miles and miles of sand. But as gorgeous as it is, it seems forbidding.

I doubt many of the old ship wrecks have ever been explored. The treasure here is diamonds. We saw the diamond boats preparing to go out while we were in Luderitz. Setting off for weeks on end-each small boats had a diver aboard and a vacuum-like device. The boats search out signs of ancient river beds on the ocean floor and then the diver goes down and starts to vacuum up the gravel.

If a diamond of more than a carat is found in the sample-they vacuum up all the gravel and eventually return it to Luderitz for processing. This way no human hands touch the raw diamonds and try to secret them away. The diamond divers earn about $6 US per carat on these high quality conflict-free diamonds. The fishermen here earn more.

Diving for diamonds might seem like an interesting way to feed the cruising kitty-but beyond the fact the water temperatures are 12-14C, the diamonds are found in restricted areas with huge buffers and well-armed guards. There's no fun family fossicking here. One local told us that in the desert in the restricted area "diamonds are as common as bird shit". He speculated that if outside eyes saw just how common they are their value would have to go down.

Having never been a real fan of diamonds, I'll continue to concentrate on the other treasures of this coast. Yesterday we were surprised by a pod of monster-sized dolphins. They came into Luderitz like a team of commandos. You could hear their wakes from hundreds of meters away as they spread out through the anchorage catching fish. Later-a monster-sized seagull caught my eye as it floated near the boat. I called Ev and Maia out to see it as it spread its giant wings and soared off as an albatross.

Hopefully this version comes through properly. Images will come separately.

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Namibia's Skeleton Coast

The bones of more than a thousand ships are said to be scattered on the shores of the coast we're following north. Before the days of GPS, when the daily fogs rolled in, the navigators aboard ships were easily disoriented. I can see why. The roar of the surf is omnipresent, it seems to come from all directions as it bounces off the thousand foot high dunes.

We tucked into Hottentot Bay last night to let a heavy swell roll through (though it rolled right into the anchorage) and to take in some of the dune-scape. Even if the surf on shore weren't as high as houses, I'm not sure we venture onto the beach. There are the bones of an old ship, which would be interesting to explore, and miles and miles of sand. But as gorgeous as it is, it seems forbidding.

I doubt many of the old ship wrecks have ever been explored. The treasure here is diamonds. We saw the diamond boats preparing to go out while we were in Luderitz. Setting off    for  weeks on end—each small boats had a diver aboard and a vacuum-like device. The boats search out signs of ancient river beds on the ocean floor and then the diver goes down and starts to vacuum up the gravel.

If a diamond of more than a carat is found in the sample—they vacuum up all the gravel and eventually return it to Luderitz for processing. This way no human hands touch the raw diamonds and try to secret them away. The diamond divers earn about $6 US per carat on these high quality conflict-free diamonds. The fishermen here earn more.

Diving for diamonds might seem like an interesting way to feed the cruising kitty—but beyond the fact the water temperatures are 12-14C, the diamonds are found in restricted areas with huge buffers and well-armed guards. There's no fun family fossicking here. One local told us that in the desert in the restricted area "diamonds are as common as bird shit". He speculated that if outside eyes saw just how com   mon  they are their value would have to go down.

Having never been a real fan of diamonds, I'll continue to concentrate on the other treasures of this coast. Yesterday we were surprised by a pod of monster-sized dolphins. They came into Luderitz like a team of commandos. You could hear their wakes from hundreds of meters away as they spread out through the anchorage catching fish. Later—a monster-sized seagull caught my eye as it floated near the boat. I called Ev and Maia out to see it as it spread it's giant wings and soared off as an albatross.






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Into the Atalntic

After six countries and nine months we’re departing Africa and heading toward South America. It will be hard to say goodbye to all the great memories—and the seal that’s been living under our boat for the past two weeks—but we’re excited about the voyage to come. We’ll get to visit St Helena and Ascension, two of the most isolated islands in the world, then make landfall in a still to be determined country in South America

At 4,400 nautical miles, our voyage across the Atlantic will cover the fewest miles of the three oceans. But we also get the fewest places to stop. So rather than spending months and months crossing an ocean—we’ll be on the other side in a matter of weeks (6-8 of them—depending on how long we stay on St Helena and Ascension).

Despite that, we’re well-provisioned. Unlike Captain Cook, who took aboard a combination of salt beef, flour, ships biscuits and wine, when he was in Cape Town, preparing to depart for St Helena, our stores are much more diverse, and contain quite a bit more fresh produce.

 We’ve been brushing up on our cabbage recipes (Rumbledethumps have been joined by Sri Lankan dry cabbage curry), tucked away some treats, and stocked up on a diverse range of tinned and dried foods. Today we’ll head off on our final fresh shop and see what the town has to offer (the day before Easter the pickings were pretty scant—so our fingers are crossed).

We’ll say goodbye to the yacht club—where Maia’s been working on her pool shark skills and we’ve been getting to know a few locals, and then explore an anchorage or two up the coast before turning more west and heading out to sea.

Luderitz, Namibia

Wandering through Luderitz is like a journey through time

Luderitz is known as an up and coming kite surfing destination because of its strong and reliable winds. And on the last day of our voyage, when we were running ahead of an approaching front with bare poles (no sails), and still making six knots, we started to wonder if our choice to come here was a bad one. But since our screeching-tires arrival the wind has dropped and the charms of the place have taken over.

In a certain light this old town is gorgeous. In other light—the kind of harsh illumination most of us live in, it’s simply run down. There are a couple of good grocery stores, an excellent fish market (where the daily buy catch is sold frozen and filleted for a fraction of market cost), a few good restaurants and an excellent data package through Telcom which gets us a week of super high-speed unlimited internet for $300 rand ($20 US).

There’s also the kind of optimistic architecture that makes you think that someone thought this little city was going to be a big deal. Big German mansions—most in need of a paint job—sit above the harbour. Imposing public buildings, including a grand train station, ornate banks and great halls, make each side street worthy of exploring.

The town, built on the wealth of diamond mining, has won us over. It’s found in a rocky patch of the Namib desert—smack in the middle of what’s known as the ‘restricted zone’, the area dedicated to diamond mining which is strictly patrolled and controlled and can’t be entered without a permit.

  

On one day we did get a permit and headed to the ghost town of Kolmonskop. Once a thriving mining town—with a street of millionaires and a hall that hosted opera singers, it hit a bust cycle when bigger and better diamonds were found further north.

Founded in1908 when railway worker Zacharias Lewala discovered diamonds just sitting on the sand it was abandoned after only a few decades. At its peak 300 German adults, 40 children and 800 native Owambo contract workers lived in Kolmanskop. The first x-ray machine (to track misplaced diamonds) in Southern Africa was found here—as well as a bowling alley, ballroom and school.

These days it’s part living museum, part ghost town. Some of it has been restored, but most of it is being reclaimed by the desert as the dunes shift in the winds.

It was the Namib Desert that drew us to Namibia. And though a couple of writing assignments and that awesome internet are helping to hold us here, exploring the desert—and watching it shift through the day are huge rewards. If you’ve seen the most recent Mad Max you have an idea of where we are; a vast desert that stretches inland from the Atlantic, where you can cross the driest dunes and still make it home in time for the freshest seafood.

Easy Sailing to Namibia

Charlie the cat and I are snuggled in blankets watching the sunrise about 250 miles into our passage to Namibia. At 400 miles this will be the shortest stretch across the Atlantic (the biggie at 2400 miles will be Ascension to Suriname.)

This is also the chilliest; the water temperature in the Benguela current drops as low as 11c. We've pulled out our fleece and are bundled up for night watch. I'm grateful for our excellent visibility through our big cabin windows; this means that other than regular 360 sweeps of the horizon we spend watches inside with the cat. Its still 'Milo weather', even indoors, as an Aussie friend phrased it, but the days are so toasty we're not quite ready to commission the heater.

Waiting for our lost part meant our final days in Port Owen were easy and peaceful. It was actually a good way to start the passage. The past month was such a rush to get going, but sitting back we realize our only real deadline is the Panama Canal in October. There are a lot of unknowns between now and then; from countries we'll visit to friends we'll make.

It truly is a whole new voyage.

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Around the World for a Haul Out

The best moments of cruising have always occurred when we’re in an isolated anchorage surrounded by clear blue water that’s bubbling with fish and life. The best things don’t happen in a boatyard.

Boat chores are the price we pay for this life though. Boats wear quickly in the tropics, and even faster when you live aboard and push them across oceans. By the time we hit South Africa we had a long list of things needing done. The last item on the list was the haul out—to paint the bottom and build new bearings for the rudders to solve the kick-up problem.

There are a variety of boat yards in South Africa—but we rejected most of them because we couldn’t fit in the travel lifts or because we’d be pulled out on our bridge deck. This left only two places we’d fit—both were expensive and wouldn’t allow us to live aboard while we did our work.

Then our friends on Evita came across little Port Owen. The little yard sounded ideal: The ten ton crane could accommodate us; it was affordable; Frank Stuyck, the manager, was responsive and helpful by email (which is rarer than you might imagine) and it was the last stop in South Africa—so our paint would be fresh for the Atlantic crossing.  www.portowenmarina.co.za

Flamingos in the wetlands of the river as we travel upstream

So we set off from Simon’s Town and rounded the Cape of Good Hope in perfect conditions. Our sail took into a wide bay then into the river at Port Owen, past fishing boats and flamingos, and to a dock where Frank surprised us by meeting us just before sunset on Sunday evening. A neighbour had called him when they saw us go by. So Frank came to tie us up and settle us in. He gave Evan a tour and a shower key for the yacht club, and promised to return in the morning—to rearrange the haul out schedule (we appeared unexpectedly after suddenly solving a stubborn engine problem and someone else was due to be hauled out rather than us).

Haulout by crane!

We were hauled out by a 10 Ton crane Monday morning, another first for us. While Alastair and his helper cleaned our hull—we were offered coffee (free muffins and coffee on Tuesday and Saturday mornings), office space and unlimited internet (kind of like crack for cruisers…) as well as mini golf and a loaner car. Dinner invitations at the yacht club followed, the haul out went as smoothly as any haul out ever has. When the courier lost a part we were waiting on, Frank took it upon himself to hunt it down—making hours of phone calls and always making us feel as welcome as a friend.

Amy from "Morning Glory" offers moral support as Evan begins painting

None of this may sound as spectacular as swimming with sharks or finding a lemur in the wild. But if cruising has taught us anything it’s that the world is filled with unfathomable kindness. We’ve been invited into homes, fed meals, been toured through towns and villages. We’ve been given gifts and shown beautiful sights. We’ve held babies and heard secret dreams. We’ve made friends of strangers.

We didn’t set off to sail the world to find goodness in a boat yard—but that’s what we found. And why we travel.

Frank's son, Jean-Paul, owns a local winery - and gave us a gift of some of his wines!

Cape Town Love--Atlantic Ocean Prep

On top of Table Mountain

 

Somehow two months has passed since we first arrived in Simons Town. Like any city-stop our time here has felt less like cruising and more like real life—whatever that may mean. Most of our hours have been spent immersed in projects and the conversations during our daily sundowners at the yacht club have tended to revolve around where to find mechanics and spare parts rather than locations for good hikes and snorkel spots. We did manage to get some fun in—it’s impossible not to take advantage of some of what this gorgeous city has on offer. Really, two months here is not nearly enough.

Sailing past the Cape of Good Hope

Boat Chores

Before crossing any ocean (and after crossing one as exciting as the Indian Ocean) there’s a lot to be done. Our list grew when we discovered Cape Town is an incredible place to get anything boat-related done; the prices are affordable and the quality of work tends to be quite good. Our work list was long (this is just a sample) but as our days are winding down we’re feeling good about our next leg:

·         Injection pump rebuild—the engine has been leaking diesel for the past few months and after exhausting all other options, it turned out the injection pump was the culprit and Briegel Motors did the rebuild. While Evan had the engine pulled apart it got lots of TLC with new hoses, a radiator clean and a few other goodies.

·         Sail repair—all our sails got a good once over and the genoa went into Ullman sails for a new suncover and some stitching repairs.

·         Dinghy retubing—our dinghy tubes took a beating in Chagos while hauling up and down anchors over and over to kedge off the boat that went aground (should have had a cover). In two wide patches the Hypalon was almost worn away and we were more of a deflatable. Wildcat dinghies retubed us for <$500.

·         New flooring—we’ve never liked the flooring we put down and found industrial sheet flooring to replace it with. The colour runs all the way through so stains can be sanded out and it was easy to install.

·         New life lines—we have spectra lifelines and discovered the end of roll bin at Southern Ropes. No more needs to be said.

·         Spinnaker sheets—see above about Southern Ropes.

·         New kitchen faucet—our faucet broke in Comoros and we’ve been on the hunt for a low faucet with a pull out sprayer. It took a while but On Tap, came through.

·         Haul out—we’ll write about our amazing experience at Port Owen separately but that’s where we are now. The hull is painted and the rudders have spiffy new bearings which should solve the mid-ocean kick-up issue forever.

Coming out by crane in Port Owen

Fun, fun, fun

Fun with friends at the Farmhouse concerts

You can’t come to Cape Town without enjoying some of what this incredible city has to offer. Rather than itemizing all we did I’ll just include a few happy photos for now (we’re back in the water soon and we’ll run out of internet). Next stop is Namibia. Watch for a post about our plans from there.

a cute dassie on Table Mountain

gorgeous Simons Town

The Jackass penguins in Simon's Town

Wine tasting-mmmm

St James--just down the road from Simons Town

Exploring Stellenboch with our fabulous driver