Sitting in the shelter of the lagoon it was hard to believe, but in the following days we could hear the roar of the surf, particularly in the quiet of the night. I managed to borrow a small outboard motor so we kept enjoying Knysna for a few more days.
Eventually we could see a 3 day weather window shaping up for the weekend, but the heads were still very much closed. With the high tide we needed to get out getting later by the day we earmarked Saturday late afternoon as our moment. In the morning the heads were still a no go. I went ashore and at lunchtime we had feedback they were still big but had moderated. At 3:30 I called NSRI and was told they had improved but it would take being there at water level to gauge conditions.
High tide was at 6:14pm and sunset at 5:28pm. We needed to get through close to high but with enough light left to get back to a safe anchorage if conditions were too rough. We let go the mooring at 3:45 and pushed out against the rapid flowing tidal stream.
It took nearly an hour of winding through the channel before we rounded the last corner and could see the heads. The water on the eastern side was a boiling pot. As we watched it was evident the deeper part close to the western head had a 2 – 2.5 meter swell, and although fairly steep a section of it wasn’t breaking. We watched a while longer then decided to punch through.
With the incoming current so strong it was difficult to make even 3 knots against it. What we didn’t need was for a big wave to pick us up and carry us back onto the very rocky western head. We gave ourselves a bit more space by keeping east of the recommended track and counted on the momentum of our 30 tons to get through. If it all started going pear shaped we had just enough room to do a very inelegant 180 between waves and scurry back.
We cut across the waves at an angle towards the west head and as we got closer swung to meet them head on. It was a roller coaster alright and would have looked quite spectacular from shore. In fact Clive, who did our back bench area went to the heads to watch us. We must check if he took any photos. Sandy saw him and waved and I noticed she made full use of the distraction. I had my hands full and wasn’t game to look away.
The exit went like clockwork and eventually the swells lessened and we gained speed as we escaped the tidal stream. There wasn’t a breath of wind and as we turned WSW the setting sun really did seem to be smiling.
The sun set and we motored through the night. There was still quite a big sea running and we bounced uncomfortably. There wasn’t even enough wind from any direction to have a sail up to steady us. The wind indicator was spinning freely giving every part of the compass a turn. All a sail would do is slap noisily.
We motored all the way to Cape Agulhas without wind. Being the southernmost tip of Africa makes it a converging point for shipping and we’d frequently have 10 or more ships tracking on the AIS at a time. By the time we rounded the Cape the swell was down to a flatish meter and we had the yankee assisting, but still we motored. Something we didn’t really expect was to see the water change colour where the Indian and Atlantic oceans meet. The Indian was a deeper blue and the Atlantic a lighter green.
On the Monday morning the wind freshened and with our change of heading we got the mizzen and main up too, and killed the engine. We’d been motoring for 40 hours. The sailing was good and we settled down to a steady 5 knots. The only annoyance was a few cargo vessels who decided to hold course even though we were under sail and they were the overtaking vessel. Sadly gentlemen of the sea are not all gentlemen.
We passed a huge oil rig being towed by two massive tugs. They were doing a steady 1.7 knots so obviously going to be at it for a long time.
At about 11pm on Sandy’s watch the wind started picking up and she woke me. We took in the main and sailed on with just yankee and 50% mizzen. Two hours later it was time for my watch and we took in the rest of the mizzen with the wind gusting to 35 knots and the sea up to 3 meters. We were going to get into False Bay before sunrise and with rocks showing up on the chart we decided to put a dogleg in our course to cross into the bay close to Cape Point at 7 am.
It was a very uncomfortable, stormy night. I didn’t get back to sleep after the 11pm sail change and Sandy didn’t either when I took over. It was one of those times when you really wonder if this is what we need to be doing. Fortunately the wind eased and so did the seas as we passed Cape Point. Sandy dropped off to sleep and we drifted up the coast to Simon’s Town.
We’d organized a mooring with the False Bay Yacht Club but when their work boat came out to guide us to it they couldn’t find the lines. They told us to come into the marina until they could get a diver. As I engaged the gears there was a disconcerting delay before they took. We motored out into the bay and drifted while I checked the transmission fluid. Sure enough there was nothing on the dipstick, and I’d topped it up along with everything else before leaving Knysna. We replaced the front seal in Australia but it appears it may have failed again.
The end result is that we are going to get the transmission pulled out on Thursday. If the seal has gone again it indicates there could be scoring on the shaft for it to have happened so soon. Or they may discover something else. The fact is we’re not prepared to cross the South Atlantic Ocean back to the Caribbean with it in doubt, particularly as we may well have a few hundred miles of doldrums to cross. We could bob around for a few weeks until we get wind again, but in our case we’d need to motor through. With Bek’s (Sandy’s daughter) first baby on the way we have promised to get Sandy back to Aus. by mid August. We need at least 60 days to get to Granada so we are rapidly running out of time. Any snags along the way and the plans fall in a heap. St Helena doesn’t have an airport, yet, and the cost from Ascension Island, the next option, would be prohibitive.
At this point we must consider the option leaving the boat here for the trip back home as opposed to Granada. The advantages are that we can get the repairs done here properly with however much time it takes, airfares to Australia are less than half the cost from the Caribbean and the cost of keeping the boat here is less than the Caribbean. It also means we could leave here at the start of the next sailing season in Oct/Nov. The negatives are that we won’t have completed our circumnavigation when we’d planned to, we’ll still have to get to the Caribbean for the sailing season there rather than already being there, and getting permission from the authorities to leave the boat here is an unknown.
So, we have a few decisions ahead of us. In the mean time we’ve been discovering Simon’s Town. It’s a delightful, picturesque village with a strong maritime history. Its harbour is a naval base and we can see the men training and hear them exercising every morning. The main street has interesting little shops and café’s, but while there is a convenience store there is no supermarket in the town so it’s a taxi or train ride to Fish Hoek. Knysna really did spoil us!
The anchorage is secure but yesterday and today it’s been very bouncy. Before that it was calm so it dishes up a mixed bag.
Yesterday George and Heather drove down from Riviersonderend for a visit. It was good to catch up, even though Heather was feeling a bit green by the time we went ashore again for lunch.
As a matter of interest, the dangerous seas warning that we waited out in Knysna destroyed the bridge onto one of the marina arms here, and the club secretary has been driving the coast road to and from the club for 25 years. On her way home the spray from the breaking waves was hitting her car on the far side of the road, something she’s never seen before!
I guess that’s about up to date for now.
Until next time…