We’re 10 miles from the northern tip of Mauritius and about to pass between a number of islands before running down the northweat coast for around 15 miles to Port Louis. This has been a long and difficult voyage and we’re really glad to know we’ll be anchoring in calm water tonight. From what we’ve been told other boats making the crossing have had a tough time of it too. We love being out ‘there’ when doing big crossings, but this time the Indian Ocean has had a belligerent attitude that has robbed us of that joy.
We left Cocos Islands just on 3 weeks ago and were glad we’d decided to wait an extra day. The wind was light and steady and the sea was a comfortable 1.5 metres. We were planning to stop at Rodrigues 2000 miles away and hoped to get there in 14 – 16 days.
The first few days out weren’t too bad but eventually we met the fully developed SE Trades, heralded by a night of squalls. We managed to dodge a few but still ended up with some torrential downpours from those that were bigger and smarter than us. We also had our worst ‘near knockdown’ so far. When squall wind hits it can come from directions contrary to what you’re set to. We didn’t have much sail up, but a gust hit us coming off the top of a wave and as we dropped down the other side we buried the leeward rail in a torrent of green sea.
I’m inclined to understate the situation because I know things always seem worse when you’re in the thick of it, but the fact I had one foot on the edge of the cockpit seat and my hand braced almost horizontally to the doghouse roof steadying myself from falling sideways speaks volumes. I punched rapid fire 10 degree shifts into the auto pilot as lockers burst open and stuff started flying around the saloon and galley. Of course I over corrected and we caught the wind from the other side and did it all over again. I put the auto pilot on standby and took the wheel as we dipped the other way one more time while I was bringing her back under control. I estimate we went over 60 – 70 degrees at the worst bit. I should have taken the wheel right away... lesson learned. We later heard that Nine of Cups had a near knock down too.
From then on we had wind gusting 35 kts, steady at 20 – 25 knots, or falling away to 5 – 10. What didn’t vary much was the big cross seas making the ride exhausting. Did I say big? I think huge applied much of the time. Cross seas is not an attitude, although it might as well be, but more a direction. Sometimes the corkscrewing motion feels like it will never stop, and at other times the boat’s movements are sharp and jerky. Fortunately there were also times when it was just big and rolling, and we felt grateful for only getting a small beating on those days!
Every movement involved hanging on which was bad enough for me, but Sandy has been nursing a disabled right arm and hand for the whole trip. We think it’s a pinched nerve. She has been in severe pain and still can only use the thumb and 2 fingers of her right hand. I find it hard enough down below holding on with one hand, or balancing briefly in the galley while doing things, but somehow she still made evening meals and stood all her watches. What a legend!
Andros was well ahead of us and having similar conditions. On the light wind days we realised how much we could have used our main, if it had been operational. We couldn’t even use our back up ‘rabbit’ sail because getting it back down needs four hands, and we only had 3! So we poodled along at 3 knots knowing the Trades would return again any day. On the low wind days we didn’t have enough driving us to hold our course and ended up with more southing than we wanted, but I guess sailing is about making the best with what you’ve got for the conditions you’re dealt.
When Andros reported back that Rodrigues was nice enough, but maybe not worth losing precious days at this time of year, we decided to push on an extra 3 days and shoot straight for Mauritius. As usual our list of boat jobs was growing and Port Louis is the best opportunity to get things done before tackling the hop to Reunion Island, and then the anxiously anticipated crossing south of Madagascar to Durban. That stretch has a nasty reputation but there is no way to avoid it.
Sandy had lines out for most of the trip and we did land a 1.150m Mahi Mahi (Dorado). We battled out on deck to land it, then fillet it. With such a good size fish it’s easiest to take the fillets and return the carcass to feed the creatures of the deep. Nothing wasted. For the next few nights we had a variety of baked fish dishes Sandy wanted to try. The mango and coconut one was the best!
We eventually passed the southern end of Rodrigues and had to tack back up its west coast to gain ground for the last run down to Mauritius. We were so close and so over this trip it was almost irresistible to call in there. By reputation it is friendly and safe and a good stopover, but we sailed by.
The next few days continued to be a cat and mouse game with the wind, and once again we were level with the southern end of Mauritius and had to do one last dogleg tack to come in at the northern end. An hour into the leg we had the wind play one last trick on us as it swung to the northeast. We could battle it or motorsail. Motorsail won!
Eventually we rounded the top of the island, killed the engine and sailed down the coast at 4 knots. After we got our entrance clearance and instructions from Port Louis harbour control, we got a welcome call from Andros and much clearer instructions. They’d arrived 2 days earlier and we were looking forward to catching up with them again.
As we motored up the harbour there were all kinds of fishing boats, mostly the dilapidated looking chinese variety, plus small cargo vessels, coast guard boats, some of which looked as though they’d never make it to the harbour entrance, and eventually the customs house and pontoon, conveniently right out the front. Except it had 6 runabout work boats tied to it looking very much as though they lived there, which they do.
Just around the corner is a concrete wall that forms a large U and has every kind of waterfront eating establishment on offer. We were told to just tie up to the safety fence there, which we did. No cleats or bollards, just tie up to the protective fence, which is fortunately very sturdy.
There is no break in the fence, so we had to literally climb up and over it. We now know that this is normal and what everyone has to do. After paper work for Customs, immigration, quarantine, and coast guard, many of the forms identical to each other, but each with a different officer, we were free to go.
There is only one place to go, Caudan Marina, which isn’t your usual marina in that it doesn’t have a normal marina office with boat type people there. It has a security office with a heap of security guards who know nothing about boats but are in control. As we approached the entrance we could see there was no room for us inside the main area, but fortunately Rosario from Andros met us at the point and guided us to a side channel that is not in the marina itself. As we threw lines familiar faces from other boats we’d met in Cocos materialised and we had at least half a dozen helpers and a big welcome. Once secured we chatted with them and most had arrived during the previous week and had been aware of our generator delays in Cocos. Some had followed our crossing from our ssb radio calls. We felt like we’d landed among old friends. One of the joys of the cruising life.
Until next time...