After five days of terrible anchoring at Ilha do Fogo, eight boats made a run for it. There was a brief weather window and we all decided to grab it and head for the next safe haven of Linga Linga (ca 220 nautical miles away). We were among the front of the group, and after a day of sailing the discussion started between the boats if we should continue directly to Richards Bay. If we were to have a shot at that, we’d need to get our gennaker (large foresail) functioning.
The halyard snapped off on the previous leg, and to re-run a halyard would mean a trip up the mast. Now, going up the mast in a marina, may not be an issue unless you are afraid of heights. But going up the mast at sea, in rolling conditions adds a whole other dimension.
A mast is like a pendulum; on deck, one might feel the boat slightly rocking in the waves, but at the top, this rocking is ten-fold and is swinging from side to side with vigorous force. In order not to be thrown off the mast and left swinging in your rope from side to side (likely slamming into the mast on the way past) you have to wrap your legs tightly around the mast, and in general hold on for dear life. All whilst, at the same time, using your hands to deal with what you went up the mast to do in the first place.
Craig gallantly offered to be the one going up, and I rushed to accept. And so it happened that I had 20 minutes of profanities coming through the headset, describing how the more sensitive parts of Craig’s anatomy found themselves tightly positioned between the bosun’s chair (the “seat” we use going up the rig) and the mast (or as Craig slightly less eloquently expressed it “My f*****g balls are getting jammed!”).
The halyard was successfully back in place and genniker hoisted we were sailing along nicely when both wind and current started picking up in opposite directions, resulting in a very rough sea state hitting the rudders. Four boats had already informed us that their autopilots were playing up, and now ours started. It did not die completely, but our full attention and the occasional manual adjustment were needed to ensure we held our course. This issue, combined with lost time spent up the mast, we decided to stick to the original plan and stop at Linga Linga. And a great decision it was. Not only was Linga Linga a lovely calm anchorage adjacent to a lovely holiday hotel, but whilst some of our fellow sailors battled on down the Mozambique Channel, we were served a full English breakfast, overlooking the beautiful estuary, feeling very happy with our decision.
After three nights at Linga Linga, a short gap in the weather appeared which would take us down the coast to Inhaca, an island just outside Mozambique’s capital, Maputo. It was a two-day sail and would put Richards Bay within 1.5 day’s reach. Three boats headed off early morning, and only 30 minutes into the trip, our autopilot died completely. Not Good! We briefly discussed if we should turn around, but realised that unless this was an issue we could fix ourselves, there would be no one in Linga Linga to help. And besides, the trip was only two days. How hard could it be? It was very, VERY hard! With no point of reference in our direction of travel we needed to keep our hands on the wheel and our eyes firmly set on the compass. A slight laps in concentration (and believe me, there were several) you look up and find you are facing 90 degrees off course. So, picture yourself on a rocking boat, staring at a constantly moving compass, and continuously adjusting the wheel to stay on course. Now picture doing this for four hours at a time. Your husband is asleep as he is exhausted from his 4-hour shift, so you don’t want to wake him up and say you really (really!) need to pee. I never ever want to do that again!
But finally, at 3 am in the morning, after 48 hours of hand steering, we sailed into the Maputo channel and the island of Inhaca…. Where incidentally we would soon have our first machine guns onboard! But luckily we did not know that yet, and now we just wanted to anchor up and sleep.
Post Note: One of the three boats Linga Linga with us, estimated that he could make it to Richards Bay before the next storm set in. 24 hours later, and about xx nautical miles from his target he was hit by gusts just over 50kts (we felt them too). Brian from SV Hold Fast was sure he was going to die as his boat nearly capsized on 2 occasions. Luckily he made it through and threw himself on the jetty to hug the ground when he had safely reached terra firma.
