When the Ship Comes In...

We received a formal memo from the Port Captain, Gilbert Mallet, advising that the supply ship, Mauritius Trochetia, would be arriving again on the following morning and that all yachts would have to clear the dock and the anchorage in the inner harbor in order to provide sufficient maneuvering space for the ship to turn around. Arrival time? Around 0530. Along with the other three sailboats at the dock, we were required to move to a designated area in the outer harbor, until the ship was securely docked.  

Though we're usually up early in the mornings here in Rodrigues, we're not always fully functional. Most morning's are pretty calm; this morning the wind was blowing at about 25 knots and there was a good chop on the water. We heard Trochetia's first hail at about 0510. She was just a few miles out and heading for the entry channel to the outer harbor. We received a hail from Port Control at about 0540 to haul anchor and proceed to the outer harbor. Solitaire, the port's tug, led the way to the designated area and Albion, a smaller utility vessel, took up the rear, following us out.

As soon as all sailboats were clear and accounted for, Trochetia began her approach. Though Solitaire moved into place near the ship, Trochetia, her big bow thrusters churning, made the dogleg turns into the inner harbor without help. The tug moved into place to turn her around and nudge her against the dock.

We made good use of our 45 minute wait in the outer harbor. Our back-up NavMan autopilot needed calibration, part of which required doing several tight circles. We're not sure what the other cruisers thought of our unusual antics, but the autopilot was calibrated by the time Trochetia was all secured.

We got the all clear hail from Captain Mallet and all four sailboats proceeded back into the calmer waters of the inner harbor and anchored. It was dead low tide as we followed the channel back to the inner harbor. Looking at the locals fishing on the reef, we weren't inclined to stray outside the markers.

We found our same little spot and dropped the hook. By 0645, we felt as if we'd done a day's work. Time for a cuppa.

Relaxing in Rodrigues

The anchorage was tight. We were very tired and it seemed, oh, so easy, to just tidy up Nine of Cups and relax … not rush ashore at all or even launch the dinghy, even though it was early in the day. We wanted to see how Cups would lie midst the other boats, but really, we had no interest in doing much other than just hanging out. After the officials all left, we were content to sit in the cockpit, drink a cuppa and get a feel for our new neighborhood. The big excitement of the day was that the supply ship/ferry, Mauritius Trochetia, had arrived just before we did and she was unloading. All of the yachts that had been tied up to the dock had been required to move off and leave the harbor while the big ship came in, turned around and docked. We arrived, it seems, shortly after six other yachts had returned to the harbor and anchored.  

We watched with interest as the ship's big cranes systematically cleared the decks of containers and then her three holds opened up and all sorts of goodies were unloaded, including several trucks and automobiles. The island's not that big … 46 sq miles (108 sq km), but we can hear the sound of a steady stream of cars, trucks and motorcycles passing by the port and here were a few more to add to the mix.

We watched the local fishermen sail out onto the reef to fish and then sail back again later in the day. Octopus is plentiful here, along with crab and other assorted shellfish.

There was a distinct fish smell on deck that we couldn't identify until we found a very stiff, smelly flying fish trying to make an exit through the cockpit drain...a souvenir of our recent passage. He was overboard quickly and we were left with only the usual boat smells … diesel, bilge … you know what I mean.

After some champers, a good dinner and a movie, we headed to bed … our own, comfy bed and slept soundly till first light. With the time change of 2-1/2 hours, that happened to be about 0515. The ship's crew had worked the whole night through and the emptied decks were now stacked with containers, huge propane tanks (presumably empty), livestock containers and one marked “luggage”. The tugs moved into place and at 0800 sharp, Mauritius Trochetia sounded a blast and began casting off her lines.

As soon as she was in the channel, there was a mad dash by the anchored yachts to claim a space along the dock. We figured we were last in, so we'd wait to see if there was any space available. There wasn't, but no worries. We were happy to stay put. We'll launch the dink and head into town today, but no rush.

It's Not Easy Being Green - Mal de Mer

Here's an older post from 2013 which is most appropriate for our Indian Ocean Passage. We've made a few minor modifications, but in general, all the info still holds.  

Call it what you will … mal de mer, mareado, seasickness, it's very real and it's a problem for many sailors. We've heard from many folks who say “I'd love to do what you're doing, but I get seasick.” Well, join the club … after 14 years aboard, so do we... still! Our recent passage from Geraldton to Cocos Keeling Islands confirmed that we haven't “outgrown” it. It certainly doesn't prevent us from sailing, but we do what we can to minimize the problem.

We've read that there are three states of seasickness:

1. You're afraid you'll get sick

2. You're afraid you're going to die

3. You're afraid you won't die

I get a kick out of people who don't ever get seasick and who assume that people who do have a choice in the matter. If you will it to go away, it will. Trust me, it doesn't. I'd certainly prefer not to deal with it, but as determined as I am about not getting sick, it still happens sometime.

Early on, we thought we'd just grin and bear it. After one particularly bad trip, however, when we not only thought we'd die, but we were hoping we'd die, we decided that perhaps we should investigate and come up with some relief. We started with crystallized ginger. I loved it, but it really didn't do anything to calm my queasy stomach and subsequent heaving. David hated it and now associates all ginger products with seasickness.

We've tried wrist bands and patches which don't seem to have much of an effect at all on us. We've tried over-the-counter pharmaceuticals, but they leave us very drowsy (even the non-drowsy formulae) and still sick. So far, the best we've come up with is Stugeron (generic: cinnarizine) which is a prescription drug. Last we checked, it was not available in the USA or Canada. It's an anti-histamine, anti-vertigo drug which is used regularly in the treatment of nausea. We were able to purchase it in the Caribbean and in South America and South Africa without a prescription and a friend in Uruguay has supplied us ever since. We take a small dosage (15-20mg) the night before we leave on a passage and then twice a day after that until we feel the seasickness has passed. It works. There is some drowsiness, but definitely not enough to impair our ability to stand watch or do whatever is necessary to handle the boat. The best thing about it is that we can take it even after we're seasick (assuming we can hold it down) and it starts taking effect rather quickly.

In our particular cases, we usually recover from the symptoms in 1-2 days and once we have our sea legs, we're fine. With the experience of knowing that we'll get better eventually, it's easier to handle the seasickness at the time. I'd hate to think of what I would have missed in our years aboard Nine of Cups, if I'd let seasickness get the better of me.

All this said, different drugs work differently for different people. We are not taking any other meds at all. There may be contraindications taking Stugeron with other medications or in certain medical conditions, e.g. pregnancy. We sail dry, ie we do not drink any alcohol while on passage. Definitely read up and consult a physician if you have any questions.

What are your experiences with seasickness? What works for you? Share!