Piece
2 Comments
I have no idea why I took the photo above. Such a near miss opportunity! If you cant find the Pelican (like me) he’s a big fella next to the motor scooter.PEacEI had no clue. How many times will I realize that in my lifetime? There are two seas between the Indian Ocean and the Mediterranean. The first one isn't even called a sea, its called the Gulf of Aden, where most pirate activities are conducted, but not all, not this year. The second is the Red Sea and the gateway to the Mediterranean via the Suez Canal. The two seas are separated by a squeeze spot called Bab-el-Mandeb, which translates literally to 'Gate of Lamentation'. Webster translation: "the passionate expression of grief or sorrow; weeping". It is a strait between Yemen on the Arabian Peninsula and the Horn of Africa and Djibouti, where we are. It is our next leg of the journey. El Bab was honking. We are talking 30kts plus winds and 15 to 20' waves. So while we were having Mai Tai's in the cockpit (a little joke, no booze in muslim world), some brave solo sailor had gone out and faced roaring winds and high waves at the Lamentation and things got so bad he abandoned his boat. He was elderly and had to climb a rope ladder up the side of a bouncing freighter off his galloping sailboat. He survived with nothing but his passport and souvenir boat docs. So what did we do? We sat in Ashika's cockpit shaking and drinking Mai Tai's (a little joke, no booze in muslim world) while we waited for no weather, as in no wind if at all possible because any wind is from the pointy end. That meant we were the last to leave, as per our motto: Dont leave Paradise to Find Paradise or We're Always the First Boat of Next Season's Boaters or our favorite; Chickens of the Sea Finally Go For It. And so we powered through the Bab on beautifully calm seas and light desert breezes. The next morning I woke to a pungent fish smell and went to make sure Dois was okay. He was. He pointed to a Blue Whale Momma with her young one close by. They were obviously feasting well and there breath was strong evidence. The smaller one spent most of the day exploring our sailboat. He would swim over on to his back, and sweep under our keel belly up, checking all our thru-hulls while Mom kept an eye on the playful pup, surfacing and spouting making her presence distinctly clear. They spent the entire day with us, only leaving as the sun started to set. We arrived in the desert oasis of Fawn Cove just in time to tuck in and wait for the north winds to wear themselves out. Leaving the bay a few days later, we were once again graced by nature. The largest pod of Dolphin we had ever seen swarmed around our little boat. And the best part? They stayed with us all day; cavorting, hunting, making babies and generally frolicking to our great delight. Young ones would group up and synchronize their jumping while fat little babies stayed closer to the mommas. There were hundreds of dolphin surrounding Ashika. Some were spread out ahead of the boat, hunting, cavorting and some were bow riders or bringing up the rear. They were with us for so long, we started recognizing familiar ones. I wore out two camera batteries and filled up a couple of 64gbit cards. I will have to get around to making a few movies of this adventure. Arriving in Suakin was amazing. It used to be the busiest and richest port in th Red Sea. Ramses III had a palace here. Now the once majestic city is only crumbling coral buildings inhabited by goats. It is here that we met Mohamed. He would be our agent and friend. He is a brilliant agent, can accomplish almost any request with speed, he is honest and he has only one leg. He has diabetes, like me. I was diagnosed with Type 2 in Indonesia. The doctor said “Take this prescription and don't worry”. So I took the medicine and mostly ignored the problem. I visited a pharmacy while in the Komodo Islands to get more medicine and a nurse there offered a blood glucose test. I prefer my friend Blissful Ignorance, but took the test anyway. The result was unacceptable. I think the nurse wanted to call an ambulance. I have a family history of diabetes and should not have checked my immortality at the Ice Cream Parlor door. So I took a deep dive into the world of diabetes and in between the horrifying facts and the amazing basics of how our body works, I found something important; hope. There was only one solution for me; I had to kick Blissful Ig. to the curb. (She pointed out every friggin donut shop on the way back to the boat). I would discover a whole new way of eating and was prepared to drag Dois along. No need, he was enthusiastic and happy to embrace the change. Mohamed lost his leg to diabetes, which is tragically common all over the world. He has plans to get a prosthetic leg in the near future. Somehow, in this donkey and camel driving place, he has acquired a very capable car. The small community of Suakin has little in the way of medical support and he travels long distances for assistance of any kind. Mohamed managed to give all three of his children a higher education and two are working in the capitol city while helping the third one to graduate. He will join them there during the summer when it is too hot to remain in Suakin. I am hopeful for him and his family and grateful to him for all his help while we were here. The Red Sea is home to both good folks and bad, as is every place, but here there are experts on terrorizing boats and their crews. There were 2 incidents on sailing boats just behind us. Add uncharted reefy bits (no modern cartography), isolated shoals, high winds on the nose and you have good reason to question your sanity taking on this challenging route. One great reason to celebrate the journey are the isolated anchorages that can be found along the way and the safe harbor they provide from the north winds. Birds proliferate the islets with great flocks of sea birds. Osprey scream and scare the cat. And there's lots of life in the water as well. A huge cuttlefish came to visit us in one of our anchorages making eye contact like he had many questions. I think he wanted to know why the cat was so bored and so followed him around a bit. When the winds die down and we have worked up enough courage to stick our nose out into it again, we will likely be blessed with the abundance of sea life in this area. While hundreds of boats, tankers and cargo ships push their way north and south just a few miles to the east, we are greeted by huge pods of friendly dolphin and their fat little babies. Whales make a show while their off spring examine the little boat on their ocean. After traveling halfway around the world, we caught our first Wahoo. The reefs attract divers from all over the world, no doubt they heard Jacque Cousteau lived underwater here. Its because the reefs are packed with enough life to make fat baby dolphins. Peace.
"You gotta ask yourself... how did I get here?” "You gotta ask yourself... what am I doing here”?All seas can be dangerous for the cruising sailor but the journey to the Suez canal is a special study in treachery. Called Pirate Alley, it is the length of the Gulf of Aden and then some 250 miles into the Red Sea for a total of 750 miles of terror filled nights. The Marine Security Coalition of the Horn of Africa (MSCHOA) has named the notorious path the High Risk Area (HRA) where many ships of all sizes travel towards the ultimate goal of transiting the Suez Canal. We register with MSCHOA and the British counterpart UKMTO and send them position reports each day. The $64 question is whether or not this route is an especially dangererous passage? Pirates exist, they are in Gulf of Aden and the Red Sea and they can be deadly. The pirates have a designated radio fear monger. He starts the evening with any number of gruesome events; the sound of someone being tortured or dying. He used a litany of creepy sayings. “I can see yoouuuu.” “I am coming and you cant stop meeeee.” He would often repeat a phrase (“engine number 9”) in different accents over and over again, for hours on end. You get the idea. Dois thinks they do it to foul any legitimate conversation. Then one night the radio lit up with two ship's watch crew discussing pirates climbing up the starboard side of a cargo ship. The current man on watch seemed confused as the observing ship's crew encouraged urgency. The conversation escalated until the English voices were interrupted by angry Arabian voices yelling and arguing. This high seas drama went on for 20 minutes or more as we watched the AIS markers for ships on the chart-plotter all blink off, seemingly hiding in the dark from the pirates. We made our turn towards Djibouti a tad early. Subsequently, though, no piracy report has been lodged with authorities. It was likely a hoax. Yes, there is real danger, but fear can also be weaponized. Fear is a given. I can be brave and scared shitless at the same time. The fact is, the Red Sea pirate's main target is not me, it is cargo ships and tankers. There are financiers through out Somalia, Yemen and Djibouti that finance pirate operations and then foot soldiers carry out the dastardly deeds. The plan is simple; climb up a ship in the dark, catch all 6 or so crew and ransom them and the ship for millions of dollars. Over a 7 year period, ransoms paid out amounted to more than $339 million (reported by the UN). The actual pirate gets less than 1% of the take which still sounds like a lot for a poverty stricken camel driver but it is something like $1,700 to $3,000 per successful soldier over 7 years. Its a low paying job with no health insurance. But with efforts from MSCHOA and UKMTO (UK security Org.) as well as NATO and the US to secure the pathway and gain a safer trade route, the risk is significantly lower that it was just 6 or 7 years ago. On our way to The Gulf of Aden, we traversed the Bay of Bengal in India. Our VHF radio is always on at sea to monitor calls. We were called by the Indian Border Airforce... they were directly overhead. The co-pilot insisted we turn on our AIS. This was our first confirmation that our AIS was not sending out our information as it should. We could see other ships (and low flying planes), but they couldnt see us. Dois was able to satisfied our visitor with our credentials and our radio was again silent as we were allowed to go on our merry way. There aren't a lot of sailors on this stretch. It is usually silent, but not in the Gulf of Aden. Risk is a given. But my Banker turned Captain is always mitigating risk. When we started our journey from San Diego, California in April of 2017, I was blissfully unaware of some of the finer points of fear, courage and ultimately faith. When our transmission failed 2 days out of San Diego as we plunged into a raging storm (and yes, we had checked the weather). The waves were massive and coming from 3 different directions. The air was wet with salty foam being blown off the tops by 30 to 40 knot breezes. I had 27 more days to contemplate our cruising decisions. After Dois by-passed a failed oil cooler that had flooded our transmission with brine, we limped into Nuku Hiva. Were we lucky? No, at the risk of sounding arrogant, I think we were resilient and Dois is a pretty amazing sailor (although his mechanic game could use a little luck). In Tahiti we had gone ashore to do a little bit of food shopping. About halfway along our walk to the market, I turned to Dois and said I thought we should go back to the boat. No reason, just felt the need. Dois is not fond of shopping (is there a happy male shopper?) and didn't care why, he was happy to return to Ashika. We had anchored in the only spot we could find, next to a reef. When we stepped aboard Ashika, we both knew the anchor had just given up its hold on the bottom. Dois ran to the anchor to bring it up and I started the engine. As I turned away from the reef (with my heart in my mouth), I could clearly see that we missed a boat eating reef by inches. Luck is not a given. But it doesn't hurt. On a squally night on the way to the Marshall Islands we decided to seek refuge from the storms in the atoll of Tuvalu. We had satellite maps and the entrance was lit. We had boat friends on at anchor inside, encouraging us with the ease of going in. We wouldn't normally consider a first entry into an atoll at night. But we were tired and it sounded like a good idea. Just as we started to enter, the trans failed, again. We spun out the staysail for a u-turn in the dark. I don't know how close we were to the reef, we couldn't see it. Dois rebuilt the transmission on our dining table in the Marshall Islands. Off Vanuatu, we sailed into a squall and Dois tangled the Genoa in a wrap trying to roll it in. This would eventually shred it so in an effort to help him, I made things much worse. I sailed dead downwind to block the wind on the genoa with the main and within moments I accidentally jibed the boom, ripping the mainsail off the mast tracks. We had to sail 300 miles to find a safe anchorage to effect repairs, never reefing the main in 20 – 25 knots of wind. If we had reefed, we would not have been able to raise the main back up (no track). We anchored off a remote village, illegally, because the country would want $600 to check in, funds we had just used up to fill our tanks in Vanuatu. Broke is a given. And I mean that in every sense of the word. There was almost no wind in Indonesia so the cost was about $3000 to motor the entire Indonesian Archipelago. We could have flown for less (but the baggage overage would have been killer). The voyage from Indonesia to Djibouti was 31 days of actual sea time (not counting our 2 fuel and fixing stops). We motor-sailed or motored half the time. We powered thru about 500 gallons of fuel at a cost of $2250 and we have another 1300 miles to go to the Suez Canal. Wind is NOT a given. Unless you don't want wind, then it IS a given. Maldives Repair list:
Enroute Repair: Baton pocket on the main needed to be stiched in. Sokotra Repair list:
Djibouti Repair list:
Danger come in many forms and pirates are just the high profile danger. The broken shroud was discovered the morning after our arrival in Djibouti. (What?!?) That could have been life changing. Engine problems leave us vulnerable to most everything. Not being able to power out of the way of a ferry boat because they did not see our AIS signal (that happened) could have had a much worse outcome. As I sit here in Ashika's cockpit, Djibouti's harbor is filling with wind and waves from an uncomfortable direction and I can see the ships that found their final resting place just 200 yards behind us. The various ribs and wooden bones sticking out of the roiling water around the wrecks reminding me of the danger. Most boating tragedies are not from one failure, but multiple. Ashika's needs are piling up and more than anything we need time. We hope to find safe haven ahead where our money can catch up to our needs, a place where parts are available or can be shippied in (and a welder would be nice). A safe haven where we can make our water-borne home sturdy again for the upcoming mother of all voyages: the Atlantic crossing. Sleep is not a given. Danger never sleeps. We spend many nights laying awake listening for the noise that woke us. And many days are spent trying to fix the things that will keep us healthy. This is our dream, we wanted to circumnavigate the world, meet new challenges and visit new cultures and after 5 years... we still do. We love this extraordinary life; diving tropical reefs, sailing turquoise waters and walking deserted beaches. Sea-life is all around us; dolphin, sea turtles, mama whales keeping tabs of their baby while he explores our boat. We wanted a life removed from a safe environment, unplugged from the cable company and our cushy sofa. We chose adventure over comfort and we'd do it again. Fear be damned, Dois and I are still excited to see what is just beyond the horizon. Wonder is a given. You may have heard of Birdles (birds riding on the back of turtles). This is birds on a log..or Blog. |
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|