Crossing the Indian Ocean - Mauritius to Durban Days 1-2

durban mileage 1605

Day 1 Beginning mileage:  1605 nm

No matter how ready we are to leave, we're never really ready till we're casting off the lines. There always seems to be a hectic rush doing all those last minute things that need to get done.

We were up at dawn making Skype calls to family, letting them know we were heading out and wouldn't be calling for a couple of weeks. David washed down the decks as they were filthy with Port Louis dust and grime; then he filled the water tanks. We plugged in everything to charge while we still had shore power...iPads, camera batteries, toothbrush, Davids razor.

I was busy in the galley. Chicken and rice passage soup, a coffee cake, extra rice for a rice salad in a day or two. I sent last minute emails and blog posts and posted on Facebook. Last minute cleaning and trash disposal. We took showers...our last good, hot showers for a couple of weeks.

We walked down to the market to spend our last Mauritian rupees on bread and fruit. We did an excellent job ... not a rupee left. Last, but not least, we headed to the Customs and Immigration office to check out of the country and get our clearance papers for Durban, South Africa. We had one hour to return to the marina and get out of Dodge. We were ready.

We sprung off the dock. David torque-turned Cups in the narrow channel while I coiled lines and stowed fenders.Ten minutes out into the harbor, an alarm went off. The starboard battery was overcharging. We pulled off to the side of the channel, dropped the anchor quickly and killed the engine. David sussed out the problem and corrected it immediately. He'd just equalized the batteries and a switch had been left in the wrong position. We were on our way again within the hour.

The S-SE winds we were expecting ended up being light noserlies ... from the WSW and right on the nose ... just like the swell. We motored for a few hours, frustrated with Neptune's pranks, but there wasn't much we could do about it. By1800, we had cleared the end of the island and the wind was a bit more southerly allowing us a tight point of sail. We were close-hauled,  but at least we were sailing.

We dined on passage soup and Saltines and settled in to our watch schedule.

Day2 Miles to go:  1491 nm (at 10am - 19 hour day)

Not much writing was done after we began our night watches. The wind picked up, the waves grew. We were still close-hauled, hard on the wind. We were heeled over, the starboard rails swallowed up by the sea. First came the slight headache, then the nausea, then seasickness like we'd not experienced in quite awhile. The puking onto the side deck, can't catch your breath, it would be okay to die now kind of seasickness. Nothing stayed down...not water or meds.  We heaved till our stomachs ached and our throats were raw. It was an endless night of long, cold watches accentuated by retching and nausea and dizziness. And then, the night faded into day, the seas calmed, the winds backed to the SE and we regained our sea legs. Another of Neptune's little tests.

As I write, we're both feeling much better, thank you very much. It's always worse when it's happening, and not as bad in retrospect although we'd prefer not to relive it any time soon.

Making slow but forward progress. Hoping to arrive in Durban in time to celebrate Thanksgiving.

Continue on our Indian Ocean crossing.

10 Signs That It's Time to Move On

 

We once heard that the two happiest days of a sailor's life were when he bought that shiny new boat, ready to begin the dream of sailing off to far away, exotic places, and the day he sold that same old hulk, which required piles of money and a full time commitment just to keep it afloat. In our book, the former is true, but we doubt the latter will ever be true. It will truly break our hearts if and when the day comes that we have to part with Nine of Cups.

Now that we have our boat, for us, the two happiest days are when we arrive at a new port after a long passage, when we are eager and excited to explore it, sample the new culture and food, and meet the local people, and then the day we leave that port, heading for some new, exotic port of call. No matter how wonderful each place is, there comes a point when we know it is time to leave. Here are our top ten indicators that it is time to move on:

1.  The “A-List” chores are completed, and we are starting work on the “B-List” items. Some ports are so wonderful, we are actually beginning to do a few “C-List” items.

2.  The local green grocer and chandlery owner not only recognize us, but know us by our first names.

3.  That crisp new map we got from the local tourist info kiosk is now dog-eared and almost unreadable.

4.  We know where the locals eat and all the shortcuts to get there.

5.  We've figured out the local names for all the weird fruits and vegetables, we know how much the locals pay for them, and even how to prepare them.

6.  Those clean sheets we put on the bed when we arrived are now in the dirty laundry bin, but the rest of the laundry is clean.

7.  Our route to the next port is plotted and we've started looking at passage weather forecasts.

8.  The propane tanks are full. The fuel tanks are full. The water tanks are full. The lockers are restocked with provisions.

9.  Marcie has started researching and making up a list of the sights to see at our next port, while David has started a new to-do list.

10.  We are getting antsy, really antsy, to move on.

Mauritius has been a wonderful port to visit... but now it is time to move on.

Arrival in Mauritius

As of 0600 this morning, we still had 15 nm to go. Compare this passage to continental drift! Arrival is imminent, however. A very unusual night for winds. Yes, the winds finally returned, but they came from the north and the west and the southwest and the south which made for never-ending sail adjustments, choppy seas, frequent squalls, heavy showers and very little sleep. During the night, we could see the glowing loom of Mauritius off to port. With the dawn came views of the island, all rugged and high.

first view of mauritius

We motor-sailed down the west coast and entered the channel at Port Louis, the country's only customs entry port. We received permission to enter from Port Control and proceeded past all the large container vessels and bulk carriers to a small Customs dock for yachts. We've talked about how each tie up is different. Well, this one was really different. No bollards or cleats to tie to. We tied instead to lamp posts and balustrades against a cement wall.

approaching port louis

The wait for officials was long. After two hours, we called Port Control again and finally someone showed up and asked David to accompany him to the Customs office right around the corner. I waited aboard for a Health/Quarantine officer who was supposed to come first actually, before we left the boat. He finally showed up and asked if I was sick. I said no and he said "okay, take down your Q flag" and that was it. David returned shortly thereafter, having completed Customs, Immigration and Coast Guard formalities.

tied to customs dock

We walked ten minutes along the waterfront to the Caudan Marina to see if any space was available. Nothing along the wall was vacant, but rafting up was acceptable and we ended up rafted to Kittiwake, a British boat. So far, Port Louis looks absolutely wonderful. Vibrant and exciting with lots to see and do. Tonight, however, a glass of champers, a quiet dinner and a good night's sleep.

rafted to kittiwake

Passage stats:

Miles planned: 350 Miles sailed: 372

Total passage time: 3 days, 13 hours

Average speed: 4.4 (ouch!)

Explore Mauritius here.

Continue on the final legs of our passage across the Indian Ocean.