It's now 3 weeks since we got back to the boat and after the first couple of days getting her back in cruise mode and reprovisioning, we've been ready to go. But not a weather window in sight.
We need 40-48 hours of favourable wind from any direction that doesn't push against the powerful Agulhas current. The seas build up mightily because the winds with a southerly or southwesterly component are usually strong. Along the 100 fathom line waves of 20 meters are quite regularly recorded. The coast is littered with wrecks, too many to mark on the charts.
Of course we could just go and we'd get there, but it would be punishing and we're doing this for pleasure, at least most of the time.
Within a couple of days of getting back we were delighted to bump into David and Marci again. We'd seen that their boat, Nine of Cups, was still on the marina and assumed they must have taken a trip back to the USA.
We both watched the weather daily, with no luck. Sometimes we'd compare notes and war stories over dinner at the yacht club. Eventually we could see little likelihood of a window for a week and decided to take the opportunity to replace our worn out old cockpit cushions. The quote was reasonable with the exchange rate to help us so when Clyde said he could have it done by the weekend we jumped in.
Well, Clyde blames the fabric supplier, who blames the courier company and the courier company does the equivalent of kicking the cat, but the fabric arrived a day late so our cushions weren't done by Friday. Of couse a short window opened up for Saturday and Nine of Cups grabbed it. It meant motoring most of the first day and strong but favourable winds the next.
It turned out we were the lucky ones. While Nine of Cups had the wind with them, it was way too much. With their main reefed they still clocked their fastest 24 hours in 12 years of cruising. The Agulhas current was running strongly and they flew down the coast at 12-13 knots, half of it current. It wasn't without cost though. The wind literally nearly blew their sail off the mast so they had repairs to do in East London.
In the mean time we got our cushions finished and tweeked, and a new canopy to cover the back deck. It makes the under cover area of the cockpit much bigger and more useable.
Eventually it looked like Friday would have light but favourable wind from midday, with Saturday looking good too. Sunday's forecast was strong sou'westerlies off East London so there was no time to mess about. While Sandy did a top up provisioning expedition I did the stupid, complicated exit routine. Firstly a trip to the marina office to settle the bill, and get a calculation of the harbour fees due to the Durban Port Authority. Then a walk to Standard Bank and a half hour queue to pay them. Next take the the receipt to the Port office, a 20 minute walk away. Then trips to Immigration, Customs, both with their own forms to complete, and a final trip back to the Port Authority who issue a departure form and tell Harbour Control you are clear to leave, for one day. Any hitches and the whole lot as to be done again. Customs and Immigration? We're going 250 miles down the coast. No border crossings. Anybody can do the same trip by car without thinking twice! We had the boat ready by the time we climbed into bed on Thursday night.
Friday's first light was virtually windless. Neither of us had slept very well... it's often the case when you haven't been to sea for a while. In this case we were having to squeeze out of a difficult marina berth, as well tackle South Africa's notorious Wild Coast.
I recruited one of the security guys and gave him strict instructions on how to keep the bow line tight so I could reverse against it, swinging the stern out to make the most of the little patch of water between all the boats behind us to turn 120 degrees in not much more than our own length. It went like clockwork. I think our line handler doubted our strategy because after handling his end perfectly, he ran and boarded a big cat in our turning puddle to help fend us off. His huge grin said it all as Sandy gave the all clear up front to prop walk the bow around and we glided out to the main harbour.
We cleared the breakwaters and used the light, unfavourable wind to motorsail off shore in search of the current. As the wind turned we set course for East London, at last. By late afternoon we were about 100 kms south and enjoying a good push from the current. I turned on the radio to get the latest from the Peri Peri Radio guys, only to be told the SW due off EL on Sunday was coming up the Wild Coast a day early and at 22-30 knots.
We would be facing mountainous seas and gusts to gale force on the nose with no safe haven before EL. It's really hard to turn back when you're traveling so well after waiting weeks for the right window. We were doing 8 knots, much of it the Agulhas.
For the fist time, we turned back. Better to ride it out in Durban harbour. But getting back was against a light nor'easter and the current we were enjoying.
Often a strong current down the coast generates a counter current in the shallower water much closer to shore. We set a new course for the shoreline and started clawing our way back at a miserable 4 knots. Two miles offshore we furled the sails and resigned ourselves to getting back to Durban at 4 am. We'd picked up a knot of current when Sandy took the watch and I grabbed some sleep.
She woke me half an hour off Durban's lead lights. That counter current had kicked in and we were flying along at 8 knots. By 2:30 we had the anchor down, even after waiting for an exiting container ship.
Sometimes a weather window opens up right afer the sou'wester blows through, so we decided to wait on the hook rather than go through the marina/whole check out rigmarole again.
On Saturday night we were watching a movie in the cockpit when the SW buster struck. It spun us 180 degrees and backed us to the oposite side of the channel in seconds. We have good ground tackle and don't drag, but we set a marker on the chartplotter as a reference anyway.
The storm didn't last long, but as we watched the gusts hitting 45 kts, 35 kts is gale force, we were glad we'd raced back.
As we'd hoped, the forecast for Sunday was light SW, but turning ENE later. We hauled the anchor at midday and exited the harbour again. We'd thought we may have to delay our departure again for a new clearout when a police boat came along side, but it was a routine check and they were far more interested in talking cricket than our dubios status.
We motorsailed for the first 12 hours sitting on 8 knots with jib and mizzen and 800revs. As the current kicked in we killed the engine, reduced the mizzen to 25% and as I'm typing we're still doing 8 knots. I've been trying to slow us down to get to EL in daylight, but it looks like we'll get there around 3am. We're about 75 miles away and nothing's going to turn us back now!
In another life when I used to fly along this coastline, I always enjoyed coming down low over a waterfall that drops straight into the sea. It wasn't very far off our track so we altered course and sailed in to 1.5 miles from shore. It's the first time I've seen it from the sea and it's quite beautiful. Not just the waterall itself but the green hills running down to the shore before you get there, and the high, steep cliffs for miles along the western coastline. Sandy said it looks like pictures we've seen of Ireland and Scotland, and it does. I'd like to go and check myself!
Until next time....