Cyprus

Posted on July 4, 2007 by George Backhus

A year ago, the island of Cyprus was barely on our radar screen and now we love it there! We had intended to spend a week or so before moving on to Greece, but in typical fashion, a week turned into nearly a month.

We arrived in Larnaca on the evening of May 30 after an uncomfortable overnight passage from Port Said in Egypt. We anchored outside the Larnaca Marina, as the officials finish work at 1330 hours and charge $60 US overtime charge to check in an arriving yacht after hours. (I can’t get my head around why they charge US$ when their currency is the Cypriot Pound) Shortly after we anchored, a wicked swell started coming in from the east, rolling us on our beam ends. We set our “flopper stopper” but it was only marginally effective for awhile, and then one of its lines broke, erasing our hopes for a good night’s sleep.

The next morning we came into the arrivals area of the marina, and med-moored to the bulkhead. Checking into Cyprus was exceptionally easy, as all the officials; marine police, customs and immigration have their offices located in the same building as the marina’s harbormaster. Everyone was professional, efficient and courteous and check-in took less than an hour. Half of that was taken up by an impromptu history lesson on Cyprus given to me by the friendly marine police officer and the immigration official.

Masthead view of the marina at Larnaca.

We were happy to be in the Med, happy to be in a marina that wasn’t a dust bowl, and ecstatic to have an endless supply of FREE WATER. After checking in, we undertook the huge task of removing the accumulation of Red Sea dust, knowing, well hoping, that it could never get that bad again.

We spent the better part of our first five days in Larnaca cleaning Moonshadow from stem to stern, top to bottom, inside and out. We washed off lines, sails, gear, emptied out and cleaned lockers, and rinsed dirty bilges. Merima spent over two hours aloft in the bosun’s chair, with hose and brush, washing the mast and rigging, sending cascades of cocoa-brown water onto the decks and into the sea. She actually volunteered for this task-what a studette! If Moonshadow wasn’t floating higher in the water after removing almost all the dirt and grime, she certainly looked the best she had since we began our journey across the Indian Ocean.

The Admiral aloft, cleaning the rigging.

After each hard day’s work we chilled out in the lounge of the nearby Cyprus Offshore Yacht Club, watched the Louis Vuitton Cup on their big screen, and enjoyed a few cool bevvies including Cyprus coffees and the local brew, a strong and flavorful beer called Keo. It was great to watch the Kiwis kick some butt on the water and afterwards head out on the town for a bit of night life.

We enjoyed a few meals out in the very lively resort town of Larnaca, just outside the gates of the marina. It was great to be back in the first world with trendy cafes, groovy bars, classy restaurants, wine lists, house music, well dressed people promenading along the waterfront, and real nightlife. We found the Greek Cypriots were most hospitable and invariably at the end of a meal, we were treated to a plate of fresh fruit and an after dinner drink on the house. Our favorite restaurants were the 1900 Art Café (excellent wine list and starters), just outside the marina, and the Cyprus Offshore Yacht Club (killer meze platter) in the marina.

At a Middle Eastern night club in Larnaca.

After being on the go for the past two months, we were happy to just be in one place for awhile, to catch our breath and get caught up on all the niggly little things that needed to be done on the boat. We took some time to order in a few spare parts and enjoy a bit of the local culture.

I was able to get boat parts from overseas into Cyprus duty free. The process was not particularly difficult, but it was time consuming and required the services of a rather expensive “clearing agent.” Having a bicycle for the trip out to the Customs warehouse at the airport was helpful, and a car would have been even better as it was a bit of a challenge riding with a huge box balanced on my handlebars.

If Larnaca Marina is a bit rough on the edges, the staff are most friendly and extremely helpful the facilities are basic but adequate and the fees are very inexpensive if you can get a berth. The best part is the proximity to town which makes it an excellent place to hang out and get some boat work done or winter over. After a week or so, it began to feel like an old deck shoe-not too flash, but about as comfortable as it gets. Most of the town of Larnaca can be accessed on foot or by bicycle. We never used a taxi, but there are plenty available. There are a couple of small chandleries in town, excellent hardware and fishing gear stores, and a very nice Carrefour that had everything we could ask for in the way of provisions. Across the street from Carrefour was a fresh fruit and veggie store that had an excellent selection of beautiful fresh produce, herbs, spices and coffees. We ordered a part from another town on the island and found the local courier system to be very fast, efficient and inexpensive.

It took us a week or so to get used Greek Cyprus’ business hours. Most businesses excepting restaurants are open early in the morning from Monday through Saturday and are closed on Sunday. They usually have a “siesta” for a couple hours in the warmest part of the afternoon, usually from around 2pm to 5pm, and then stay open till 8 or 9 pm, sometimes later. Almost all businesses close on Wednesday and Saturday afternoons and don’t reopen for the day, so that doesn’t leave much time on the weekends for shopping. We found that weekday mornings to be the least crowded.

After we had finished our cleaning and boat projects, it was time to play tourists and see a bit of Cyprus. We hired a little car for three days (that’s the minimum) and did some touring around the island. Being a former British Colony, Cyprus has similar road rules and we found the roads to be very good, well marked, generally free of traffic and fairly easy to navigate, except in the small villages. The Cypriots tend to drive rather fast, so cruising along at the speed limit, 100 kph/62 mph, we were usually the slowest car on the road.

On our first day we headed west to the port city of Limassol where there is a modern marina and some yacht facilities that we wanted to check out. Limassol is a sprawling beach town that struck us as the sort of place that squillions of tourists from Europe and Northern Asia come for their annual holiday. The primary activities appear to be acquiring a wicked sunburn during the day and then killing the pain at night in one of the countless bars, pubs, tavernas, night clubs and discotheques crammed along the waterfront.

Limassol didn’t rate as much more than a coffee stop for us so we headed north on one of the wine trails towards Troodos, a resort town located in the mountains in the center of the island. The foothills were rather dry, the soil chalky-white, and many of the hillsides were terraced for the cultivation of olive trees and vineyards. We passed through a handful of picturesque old villages with cobbled streets so narrow that even the smallest of cars had trouble passing. Just outside of the village of Pano Platres we popped into a winery to sample some of the local drop. This isn’t exactly the Napa Valley, so we were the only ones there. The owner gave us a personal tour and tasting, and afterwards gave us a sample of his home made zivania. We purchased a few bottles of wine, and of course, he threw in a small bottle of zivania, on the house.

Cypriot wine country.

Cyprus produces some very nice wines, and the prices for good bottle range from about $4 to $6 US. They also make some very nice V.S.O.P. brandies, and their own “fire water,” zivania, which is similar to grappa. Zivania is sold everywhere, is very inexpensive and could probably double as stove alcohol, paint remover, parts cleaner or even outboard motor fuel for those requiring all items carried aboard to have multiple purposes.

Up in the mountains, the temperature cools down comfortably, the landscape turns to pine forest and the beaches have been replaced by spas. We had lunch in a small village and spent the afternoon meandering around the area before returning to Larnaca.

Our second day outing was to the capital city of Nicosia, about a 45 minute drive from Larnaca. Nicosia is a very pleasant, modern and cosmopolitan city situated in the center of the island. The climate was warm and pleasant and the people there were very friendly. We spent most of the day wandering around the old walled city center, with a district where many of the narrow streets are closed to vehicular traffic. There are a host of shops and cafes housed in quaintly restored old buildings, and it appears that the gentrification process is spreading though out the rest of the old city.

Northern Cyprus remains under Turkish military occupation, and part of the “border” passes right through the city of Nicosia. While Cypriots can apparently move freely from one side to the other through various checkpoints, and the two sides are living harmoniously, there are rather ominous barricades across the streets bisecting the line of demarcation. One café near “the wall” has taken a rather tongue-in-cheek approach and calls itself Berlin.

The border wall.

On our last day’s outing, we headed east to the town of Agia Napa, Cape Greko and up the east coast along Fig Tree Bay. While the rocky coastline is quite spectacular, we found Agia Napa to be a tackier version of Limassol. Other than an old monastery located in the town center, the tourist sprawl has overtaken whatever local charm may have existed. Out at Cape Greko, driving down a small side road, we caught glimpse of some beautiful rock coves that made for quintessential Mediterranean anchorages-rugged landscape, azure blue water, beautiful yachts at anchor, and people out having fun in the sun. Fig Tree Bay is rapidly being developed with resorts and apartments and looks to be on track to follow Limassol and Agia Napa.

Having seen and done most of what we wanted to do in Cyprus, we finally ran out of excuses to hang around Larnaka, so we checked out and headed west. We made a short hop and anchored in the lee of the commercial port in Limassol for the night, continuing on the following day to the ancient town of Paphos on the west coast of Cyprus. We were able to get a med mooring in the very small and crowded harbor, mostly occupied by local fishing and tourist boats.

The harbor itself is a tourist attraction and on one side there is a row of indoor/outdoor restaurants and tourist shops. One day when we were passing through this area on our way to town, we came upon two very tame and very large pink pelicans. One of them walked right into one of the seafood restaurants and started poking his bill into a display of fresh fish on ice. I suppose this was some sort of an endorsement, but I sure would not have wanted to mess with one of those huge beaks.


The pink pelican in Paphos.

While Paphos is a full-on resort town, its ancient harbor and surrounds are listed as a World Heritage site. Judging by the number of people we saw visiting the archeological site, we reckoned that soaking up rays was the preferred activity to soaking up culture and history. We spent an entire morning visiting the site next to the harbor, admiring the beautiful and intricate floor mosaics dating back to the 2nd and 3rd centuries A.D., an ancient Roman amphitheatre and a quaint old lighthouse before the heat of the day drove us to find some shade and a cool refreshment.

Exploring the archeological sites in Paphos.

Paphos is quite a party town with a lively “bar street,” lined with pubs, clubs, restaurants and cafes of all persuasions. We had a couple of meals out which were both excellent, and we managed to find a nice bar/restaurant with a big screen and Sky TV where we were able to watch the first two races of the America’s Cup with commentary in English.

On our last afternoon in town, we picked up a few provisions at an excellent grocery store near the harbor, checked out of Cyprus. The following day we took advantage of a lay day in the America’s Cup racing and made an overnight dash to the port of Rhodes in the Dodacanese group of islands of Greece about 225nm to the west.

Posted in All Cruising Logs, Cyprus, Mediterranean Logs | Comments Off on Cyprus

Transiting the Suez Canal

Posted on June 10, 2007 by George Backhus

26 May

Approach to the Suez Canal was pretty straight forward. The channel is well marked, and with dozens of ships anchored to each side, it looks a bit like the driving lane through a massive liquid parking lot. We arrived in the Suez Yacht Club basin and were welcomed by Captain Heebi, our canal transit agent, and another fellow called Said who assisted us with tying up Moonshadow between two moorings buoys. The “Yacht Club” is owned by the Suez Canal Authority and while it lacks most of the amenities of interest to cruisers, it is a convenient staging point for pleasure yachts transiting the canal.

It is also a convenient focal point for local tour guides, boat boys and others offering good and services, or just plain begging, to come out and regularly pester the transiting yachts.

Captain Heebi came aboard and briefly explained what needed to be done in preparation for our transit of the Canal. I asked him a few questions about the transit process, dealing with the pilots and other issues we’d heard and read about, and the all important tipping issue. He filled me in on everything to my satisfaction. Next he made a quick girth measurement of the boat, and after a plugging this number into a formula on his calculator, gave us a rough estimate of our transit fees, check out fees, berthing fees, agents fees, etc. He was incredibly organized and efficient. We took care of the business and shortly afterwards, one of the boys from the yacht club came by with a box of delicious pastries and a papyrus painting as a souvenir of Egypt.

We were later informed that we would have to wait until Monday to begin our transit, as there was a British (Coalition) warship transiting the next day, and pleasure yachts were not permitted in the canal at the same time as warships due to the risk of terrorism. Apparently Al Qaeda would like nothing more than to sink a war ship in the middle of the canal and close off this vital shipping link, and the word is they’ve made a few attempts, a fact that the Suez Canal Authority, would prefer that the rest of the world didn’t know.

27 May

We took advantage of the lay day and caught up on some maintenance, cleaning and writing. We were visited by a “Suez Canal Engineer” who inspected the boat. This consisted of checking to see that we had up to date fire extinguishers, a functioning bilge pump and that the engine would start.

Later in the day another fellow named Said came on board to compute our Suez Canal Authority tonnage measurement. He carefully examined line drawings of Moonshadow, wrote down lots of numbers and measured “non cargo carrying spaces” such as our engine room. All of this data would be used to calculate our “Suez Canal Net Tonnage” (SCNT) which would be used to determine the fee we would pay for our transit.

He told us that the Suez Canal Authority makes the vast majority of its money off the big ships (between US$250,000 and $750,000 per transit, times an average of 60 ships per day) but wants to welcome pleasure yachts to Egypt. He was very professional and polite and we enjoyed a chat over cups of tea (he took 8 sugars!!). At the end of it all, our SCNT was 42, which meant our transit fee would be $US 336. It is way cheaper than the alternative of sailing around the Cape of Good Hope down at the bottom of Africa, but it puzzles me that we were in Egypt and had to pay fees in US Dollars. I’m beginning to think that half the US Dollars money supply is circulating outside of the United States.

28 May

Transit day! We would begin the first of two legs, from Port Suez to Ismailia, a city situated on Lake Timsah about 45 miles to the north, where we would anchor for the night. We got a late start as the Suez Canal Authority didn’t give authorization for the yachts to go until late in the morning. Captain Heebi handled our Immigration checkout from Egypt very efficiently, told us our pilot would be on board shortly and bid us farewell with yet another gift. This would pretty much be the end of the pleasurable part of our Suez Canal transit.

Ready to transit the Suez Canal.

Our pilot Mohammed was finally delivered to us by row boat at about noon. He didn’t strike me as a man who moved to quickly. Mohammed had such a massive beer belly that it appeared to severely limit his mobility. I was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to negotiate his way up the swim ladder. Once on board and totally winded, I politely requested he remove his big, black, dirty shoes. It amazes me that so people who work aboard yachts as a profession, don’t have the common sense to wear a pair of easy-on, easy-off, boat-friendly shoes. I could see that it was a struggle for him just to reach his shoelaces.

After leaving his shoes in the middle of the steering cockpit, Mohammed used what seemed to be his remaining energy for the day to get his massive carcass into the center cockpit, where he plopped himself down and did not move for the remainder of the trip to Ismalia. He put on a phony sort of friendliness, shaking hands and touching us. He looked and felt greasy and we felt like we had to wash up after any contact.

At first, Mohammed said that we would have to wait a half hour to get underway due to shipping traffic. About five minutes later he seemed to become impatient and said, OK we go! We slipped our mooring lines and began heading north. He grumbled that the last bus from Ismalia was at 1600 hours and that we wouldn’t make it in time, so he would have to take a taxi home that night. While I got his not so subtle hint that he was expecting us to pay his cab fare, I thought to myself that I didn’t delay the transit, the Suez Canal Authority did, so it wasn’t really my problem. I ignored his comment.

At its southern end, the Suez Canal is just wide enough to accommodate one way shipping traffic. We hugged the red port hand marks to keep clear of massive oil tankers and container ships.

Sharing the Suez Canal with a container ship.

The canal is hardly more than a big ditch cut through the Egyptian desert. It is hardly an engineering marvel any more than it is point of scenic interest compared to the lovely canals of France, England or even Panama. What is unique is the incredible security force stationed along the canal. It seems like there was a guard post about every fourth or fifth sand dune, with a small concrete bunker, a rather bored looking soldier, and a machine gun mounted and pointed in our direction. At other points along the way, we saw soldiers sitting on the banks with guns in hand. Every couple of miles we saw a floating bridge with large engines mounted on each section. Apparently they can swing these things around and seal off the canal within a few minutes in the event of an imminent threat. Meanwhile, ships and yachts pass along and offer a friendly wave to those poor bored fellows ashore, seemingly oblivious to any sort of danger.

A security checkpoint.

We weren’t even under way for a half hour and Mohammed began to ask for things. He was the antithesis of tact, subtlety and class. He wanted caps, shirts or anything with the boat name. For his kids of course, as I’m sure nothing I had on board was large enough to cover his sheer volume barring a spinnaker. We did give him a new cap to keep him quiet but since it didn’t have the boat name, he was less than pleased. He then touched his pockets and told us that he had forgotten his cigarettes. I told him we don’t permit smoking on board, but at the other end we might be able to fix him up. He then asked for a beer to get rid of his headache from the lack of nicotine. I told him we didn’t drink under way and he looked thoroughly unimpressed. We gave him a non-alcoholic beer which he chugged like a college student at a frat party.

Pilots are supposed to bring their own meals, but our Mohammed showed up empty handed. Merima made up a big pasta dish for lunch, which we were happy to share with him. Even though Mohammed looked as if he didn’t miss too many meals, he attacked his lunch like he had been fasting for Ramadan. I’ve never seen so much pasta attached to a single fork, and after watching him take his first bite, I couldn’t bear to watch any more. He asked for bread-as if the pasta wasn’t enough-and when Merima gave him a slice, he gave it a funny look and asked if we had any Egyptian bread. We said no, so he devoured the sliced bread in two bites.

Transiting the Suez Canal is pretty much a no brainer for small boats. All one needs to do is keep to the extreme left of the channel, clear of the shipping traffic, and not run into the navigational marks. I did all the steering under way, mostly with the autopilot. Mohammed fell asleep in the cockpit after lunch.

Our pilot Mohammed, hard at work.

When he wasn’t napping, eating or drinking, Mohammed was gabbing on the VHF radio. He seemed to have the microphone pressed against his mouth as he spoke, as if he was having a love affair with it. Merima insisted on sanitizing the mic after he left.

As we reached the outskirts of Ismalia where we would stop for the night, we came to a pilot station on the canal. Mohammed informed us that we would have to stop so the station manager could welcome us to Ismalia. We told him that was very kind but we wished to continue to Ismailia. He also said that it was expected that we should “make a gift” for the station manager. I told him that we had discussed this very issue with Captain Heebi, our agent and he said that we did not have to stop to give baksheesh to any of the station managers. He told me we must stop to speak to the station manager. I told him that I would not discuss this issue with him further, and if he wanted us to stop, he could discuss it with Captain Heebi. If Captain Heebi told us we had to stop, then we would. He became very indignant and ranted on the radio to someone I assume was the station manager. I just ignored him and carried on towards Ismalia. He had just lost half his tip, and had a lot of schmoozing to do to keep the other half.

A little further along there was a ferry boat crossing. After a large ship passed, a ferry darted out from the east shore, heading west on a collision course with us. I looked at Mohammed who seemed to be totally unconcerned. I looked back and could see that the next ship was at least 5 minutes behind us, so I altered course to the right. Mohammed began yelling at me, demanding that I hold my course, that the ferry would stop. It didn’t appear like the captain of the ferry was slowing down or had any intention of stopping so I pulled the throttle back. Again, Mohammed yelled his disapproval of my action. I’d had a gut full of him by now and let him have it. I reminded him in a firm and loud voice that this was MY boat, MY home, and I was the captain and I would take whatever actions I felt were appropriate to avoid a collision insure the safety of the vessel and crew, and that if he disagreed he was welcome to get the hell off MY boat, right NOW! He grumbled something unintelligible in Arabic, but it didn’t sound flattering. He had just lost the other half of his tip.

I think Mohammed realized that he had cooked his goose, and he did not say a word or make a gesture for the rest of the trip. As we backed into the yacht club at Ismalia to drop him off, Mohammed managed to make his way to the aft cockpit, put on his shoes and came to discuss his “gift.” I informed him that we felt he had disrespected both of us as well as the boat and there would be no gift. He asked if I Captain Heebi had told us about the “baksheesh.” I told him yes, and that we knew is was optional and up to the captain based upon the merit the pilot. Based on how he had handled the trip, he deserved nothing, but to appease him, Merima gave him two packs of cigarettes, which he refused, saying he wanted money. Merima laid them on one of the aft chairs. He then told me that I would have to pay his taxi fare home. I told him that we were never informed about paying any taxi fares. He told me I had to put it in writing that we were not giving him a tip. I told him I wasn’t going to put anything in writing, that I had put up with enough of his bullshit and ordered him to get off our boat immediately. He stepped off and we went out and anchored Moonshadow in the lake close to the yacht club. After he left, we noticed the cigarettes were gone. It was time to unwind from this horrendous day with a couple of G & T’s.

We hope that someone from the Suez Canal Authority reads this to see what some of us have had to put up with. Perhaps they might consider a mail-in customer satisfaction survey. Nah, I don’t think so!

That evening we went ashore and joined in a festive pot luck that was attended by a large group of cruisers from all over the world. From my foggy recollection, the countries represented were Australia, Canada, France, Germany, New Zealand, Russia, Spain, Sweden, the United Kingdom and the U.S.A. We met with the local coordinator for transit pilots and booked a 10 am departure time for the following day. Most of the yachts had relatively good transits other than Breakaway, whose pilot struck a navigational mark which damaged the new paint job on the topsides of the boat. Richard, her owner, said the pilot then had the audacity to ask for his gift at the end of the day. He obviously didn’t get it. What’s more, the vessel’s owner is actually liable for any and all damage to vessel or Suez Canal property, regardless of fault. Nice, eh?

29 May

We were awakened at 0600 by a radio call from Gregg on Faith informing us that our pilot was waiting ashore. So much for our 10 o’clock departure! It was way too early, we’d had a bit too much fun the night before at the cruiser party and neither of us was looking forward to dealing with another day like the one before.

I went ashore and met Khaled, who seemed to be young, fit and polite. We went back to Moonshadow where he immediately stepped out his deck shoes, came forward with me and helped me stow the dinghy so that we could get under way as quickly as possible. Apparently there was a swing bridge up the way that we wanted to get through before it closed off the canal each morning.

As soon as we had lifted the anchor, I got a call from Gregg on Faith. He told me the Suez Canal Authority was short of yacht transit pilots so he wanted to follow closely and share ours. Our pilot agreed and our little convoy of two set off from Ismalia on the second day of our transit with a destination Port Said on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea.

By contrast to Mohammed, Khaled was very professional and conscientious. He insisted on hand steering the boat himself for almost all the transit. At first I was a bit nervous and kept a very close eye on him, raw from the previous day’s experience. But it soon became apparent that he had good boat handling skills and gave his complete and total attention to his work. He also paid close attention to Faith and made sure they were keeping close enough to us and well out of the way of the mega ships also transiting the canal that morning. When it was time for morning tea, we shared a snack with him, but he had also brought a briefcase in which he had his own food and water which he insisted we share with him.

We had a relaxing and uneventful morning and arrived without incident in Port Said around noon. We gave Khaled the recommended tip and then some, for which he was most appreciative. A pilot boat came alongside, he hopped off, waved us goodbye. We snaked our way through the myriad of traffic at Port Said and once clear of the city reach, we set our sails and steered a course for Larnaca, on the island nation of Cypress, about 220 nm to the north. We were soooooo happy to finally be in the Med Sea, and have the Suez Canal, Egypt and the Red Sea behind us forever. Well maybe forever.

Saying goodbye to the Granger family on “Faith” in Port Said.
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Egypt, Red Sea, the Nile and Cairo

Posted on June 10, 2007 by George Backhus

28 April

We had enough light at 0700 to see our way out of the pass into Elba Reef, and we spent the day motor sailing northward, finishing at Shab Abu Fendera (Fendera Reef), just across the border into Egypt, at about 1530 hours just after being converged upon by a very large pod of mischievous dolphins. One of them even splashed me when I was up on the bow watching. Fendera Reef is also very inadequately charted but we had good enough light to get in and anchor in 25 meters of water in the lee of the large coral patch. Winds for the day were light and variable, never exceeding 6 knots, and the sea state was slight, making for a fast and relaxed trip.

29 April

At first light we lifted the anchor and followed our track back out of Fendera Reef. Winds were light from the northeast, so we made an 85 mile dash to Dolphin Reef where we planned to relax for a couple of days and do some diving. We made it in just shy of ten hours and had good light for the approach to the reef anchorage. There were four liveaboard dive boats moored on the reef, so we reckoned the diving must have been pretty good. There were also five other cruising yachts at anchor, so we had a bit of company.

30 April

I woke up early in the morning to howling northerly winds, feeling sorry for the boats that were on overnight passage heading north. Although we would be sitting out the blow in the comfort of Dolphin Reef we would be accumulating a fresh coat of red dust. Winds were in the 20’s gusting to 30 in the morning but moderated to around 15 late in the morning. We splashed the dink and headed to the east side of the reef and had a nice dive on a beautiful wall there. The sea life consisted mostly of smaller reef fish, but we did spot a couple of nice sized maori wrasse, a white tipped reef shark cruising along the wall, and a very inquisitive sea turtle. The Red Sea has not disappointed us in its diving. We had all the other yachties around for happy hour(s) on Moonshadow that evening.

1 May

We were weather bound again by a fresh northwester from 15 to 25 knots. The seas crashing on the windward side of the reef were off-putting enough to keep us here for another day or so. Merima passed the time baking and sewing, and I caught up on some writing and photo organizing. It was too windy to do any work outside and if we touched anything exposed, we would get red dust all over ourselves.

2 May

Weather-bound for a third day! The bar has hit a peak and started dropping, so it looked like the end of the blow was on the radar screen. We had a good long dive on the east wall. It was probably the best dive we’d had in the Red Sea to date. We saw a small school of big dog tooth tuna schooling by, schools of trevally, some huge red snapper in the pukas, lots of lion fish, a couple of large maori wrasse and a huge moray eel. The wall is just covered with hard and soft coral, sponges, fans, gorgonians and other colorful encrustation.

3 May

After a calm night, it was time to move north again. We got underway as soon as we had enough light to get a visual on the tricky reef at the pass, around 0730. We made it out OK and bashed through a residual swell of about a meter, and light easterlies. After an hour or two, the seas moderated and we had a good fast ride north to Gezirat Wadi Gimal about 48 miles from Dolphin Reef. Because the winds were forecast to be out of the south, we decided to press further north a few miles to Shab Ghadeira, where we would have better protection and an easy exit before good light the next morning for the longer (58 nm) leg to Port Ghalib. We wanted to be in a good position to arrive in Port Ghalib with good light and early enough to get checked in, as there were about 8-10 boats arriving Friday after a weather-bound backlog.

We anchored in 17 meters and the wind absolutely died. The whole scene was surrealistic, with clouds reflecting off the sea, and the sea and sky blending into infinity in a light mist. The evening’s entertainment was listening to all the goings on on the VHF radio. There’s usually a lot of chatter between ships’ crew in the Red Sea, mostly ethnic slurs that drive us to the point of switching off the radio. But this evening there was a very articulate man with an Arabic accent who had quite a good shtick. He could have been Ali G for his wild sense of humor. He was taking the piss out of the Coalition Warships and various ethnicities. We also heard one of the yachties going stealth as they thought they were being stalked by a couple fishing boats. It seems that some people don’t have enough drama in there lives, so they create it in their imagination.

4 May

We were definitely getting close to civilization. We started seeing more buildings ashore, and a mega resort every couple of miles up the coast. Navigating through the myriad of reefs was easy as they were almost all well marked by dive boats, spilling divers on to over-dived sites. The number of floating plastic bottles we saw was disgusting, and reminded us of the endless sea of rubbish we encountered in Indonesia. And they call this “eco-tourism?” We arrived at Port Ghalib at about 1400 hours. There were 13 other yachts at the Customs dock. Customs were waiting for our arrival before taking all the paperwork to the airport for processing. Some of these frustrated yachties had been waiting since 0600 that morning!

A couple of hours later, with the Egyptian check-in formalities completed, we got tied up and plugged into shore power for the first time in nearly four months. Water, well that was another story. There was only one outlet, about 100 meters away, so we’d have to form a hose brigade. At least we could get a nice meal out and drinks at the dive resort attached to the marina. Otherwise, Port Ghalib was still pretty much of a construction site and quite lacking in facilities. Its most redeeming quality is that it had the first, last and only proper fuel dock (that we were aware of) with a pump in the Red Sea. After our last fueling experience in Suakin, this was a big draw card for us. We decided that we would get fuel, get provisions, and get out! It was nice to have a good meal out again.

5 May

I spent the first hour and a half of the morning forming the “hose brigade.” That is gathering all the hoses from the side tied boats and trying to mate the myriad of different connections so that we could get water from the hotel outlet to the last boat, some 300 feet away. Once this was accomplished we all began taking turns washing off many weeks accumulation of dust, salt and “pink stuff” which is a gooey combination of the two. When we finally got the hose that afternoon, we rediscovered that the boat was in fact white and got her really clean again for the first time in months. We enjoyed a great meal at the resort’s buffet that night and relaxed afterwards in the sheesha garden with a big pipe.

6 May

It was a mostly relaxing day as we made preparations to depart the following day. The marina office assured us paperwork would be ready by that afternoon “100%”-sure! Merima ordered some fresh provisions through the resort which were very nice, and delivered right to the boat that afternoon. The paperwork didn’t show up but the duty officer in the harbor office said he’d fax it ahead to Abu Tig Marina, our next stop. My confidence level with the Egyptians so far was hovering close to zero.

7 May

We were up at 0500 and headed over to the fuel dock. Filling was fast, clean and easy, but after first getting a pre-approval for our purchase, their Visa card machine wouldn’t work any more. Further, they would not accept Egyptian pounds, only US dollars. I wanted to make a bit of a stink and wait till the credit card machine would work so we didn’t have to use the cash that was earmarked for the Suez Canal transit fees, but we had a long day plan and needed to get moving. We got away by 0730 and made it to the next good anchorage, nearly 80 miles north, by sunset.

8 May

We were up early and made our way further up the Sea in light northerlies. We passed the resort area of Hurghada where there was literally one mega resort next to another for miles along the shoreline. Even more were under construction. It looked as if there were enough rooms available to accommodate half of Europe, Asia and Russia all at the same time. From what we could see from seaward, most of the beaches looked very average and were overcrowded with oversized people wearing undersized bathing suits.

We made the last 58 miles to Abu Tig Marina by early afternoon and were happy to arrive in a “real marina, “i.e. not a construction zone, with all, if not most of the facilities and amenities fully operational. The marina staff at Abu Tig was most welcoming and very helpful in getting us into a very tight med-moor slot. After we got tied up, plugged in and the pasarelle installed, we went straight to the travel agency to book our Egyptian land travel. We organized an eight day inland tour with a very nice and helpful travel agent named Tamer Ramzi who managed the Pro Tour office in the marina. The itinerary covered almost everything we wanted to see in Egypt within a realistic time frame and the price was very reasonable.

It was nice to be able to relax and enjoy some of the amenities offered by a first world style marina-shopping, cafes, bars, restaurants, live music, grocery stores, WiFi, etc.

9 May

We spent most of the day tidying up Moonshadow, rinsing down, vacuuming up and wiping off yet another buildup of red dust that had been bestowed upon us, courtesy of the Arabian Desert and the unrelenting northerly winds. At least at the end of a hard day’s work, we enjoyed a stroll around the marina, checking out the mega yachts of Egypt’s rich and famous and enjoyed a nice meal out and a sheesha and music afterwards.

12 May

We were picked up by a mini bus at 0530 and headed for Luxor along with our cruising friends Susan and Ron from Gemini who would be our traveling companions for the next week. We were on vacation!!! We headed to the town of Safaga where we joined a police escorted convoy of tourist buses headed for Luxor. The convoy is meant to protect tourists from an attack by insurgents who would like to destroy Egypt’s huge tourism industry. In theory it seems intelligent, but practically speaking, all it does is put all the tourists together at a set time and place so that we could be one easy target. There have been no attacks on tourists for years, but the whole convoy thing, including rest stops, has become a big and very cheesy business for the Egyptians along the convoy routes. We soon found that what lines the pockets of Egyptians in most cases is more important than the convenience, safety, pleasure and comfort of the tourists.

The tourist convoy to Luxor.

A girl and her pet goat poses for photos at a rest stop.

We arrived in the ancient city of Luxor late in the morning and boarded the Nile Admiral, which would be our home base for the next four days. I suppose it is a bit ironic for cruisers going on “vacation” to go on a cruise. The Nile Admiral had been recently refit and was up to five star standard with beautiful accommodations, excellent food and friendly and helpful staff. We wouldn’t be losing any weight on this trip!

After an excellent buffet lunch we spent the afternoon with our guide, a lovely Egyptian lady called Raga, touring the magnificent temples of Karnak and Luxor. Merima and I soon discovered that we could spend hours just studying the intricate and interesting hieroglyphics and artwork carved in relief and painted on the temple walls.

Luxor Temple.

Dinner aboard the ship, accompanied by a surprisingly good Egyptian wine was excellent!

A felucca on a sunset sail on the Nile.

13 May

We spent the entire morning on the West Bank of the Nile at Luxor, visiting the Necropolis of Thebes, the Two Colossi of Memnon, the Valley of the Kings and the temple of Queen Hatshepsut in the Valley of the Queens. Of course no visit to the Valley of the Kings is complete without a foray into the tomb of Tut Ankh Amun, known to most simply as “King Tut.” Even though the boy king was one of the lesser pharaohs, he has become so popular because his was the only tomb in the Valley of the Kings to be discovered intact, with all its riches having escaped tomb raiders for thousands of years. The actual tomb is quite small, and after visiting the exhibit of the riches discovered inside, one wonders how it all fit.

We thoroughly enjoyed the tombs and were fascinated by what stories might be told by the myriad of hieroglyphics and carved reliefs covering the walls inside the ancient tomb, many of which are fully intact and/or still showing bright color.

King Tut’s tomb.

Ancient emoji.

We were back on board the Nile Admiral in time for a late lunch and sailed for Esna, where the ship stopped and waited to negotiate a lock before continuing up the Nile to Edfu where we tied up for the night. Sitting on the top deck watching the stunning scenery of the fertile Nile River Valley going by was a wonderful and relaxing way to spend the day while we left the driving to someone else. As we approached the waiting area, we were chased by a dozen or so men in rowboats, some who managed to get lines tied to part of the ship. They were selling various clothing items like T-shirts and galabayas, the full length shirt/dress worn by local men and women. They had a very interesting marketing scheme. They would come along side the boat, and throw their items up to people on the top deck of the ship (three stories up) or looking out of their stateroom windows. If someone wanted to make a purchase, they would put the money in the plastic bag and toss it back to the guy in the boat. Otherwise, unwanted items were tossed back down, sometimes missing the boat. We dubbed this sales technique, the “row and throw.”

The rowboat merchants.

That evening after dinner, we enjoyed looking out at Edfu, still appearing to be in colonial times, with its beautiful old architecture and ornate horse-drawn carriages parading along the riverfront.

14 May

After an early breakfast we were off to visit the temple of Horus in Edfu, after which we returned to the ship and sailed for Kom Ombo. After lunch and a relaxing afternoon cruise, we stopped to visit the temple shared by the two Gods Sobek and Haroeris. While we found that we often got “templed out” in Asia, the Egyptian temples are all unique and had many interesting features to capture our interest. Of particular interest in the temple at Kom Ombo was a carved relief depicting some surgical instruments, extremely advanced for the era, as well as a room containing two mummified crocodiles on display. After our temple visit, we sailed on to Aswan, the end of the line for the cruise ship.

15 May

Peering out of the window in the morning, the scenery was stunning. In the distance we could see ancient tombs carved into the hillside above the river, and the ruin of a monastery which had been built into the cliffs above. In the foreground there were small green islands in the middle of the Nile, with feluccas, the local sailing boats, moored on them as well as on the river banks. In the morning we visited the Aswan High Dam. While it may be an engineering marvel, it is certainly not much to look at. After, we visited the temple of Philae, perched in a placid setting on a small island above the dam in Lake Nasser. It is one of many temples that had to be taken apart and reconstructed on higher ground to avoid being covered forever by water.

The Temple of Philae.

After lunch we enjoyed a boat ride around Aswan’s Elephantine Island, affording us good views of the Mausoleum of Agha Khan and the Old Cataract Hotel, made famous by Agatha Christie in her book Death on the Nile. We would have preferred a ride on a felucca, but apparently there was too much wind. Not for us!

Elephantine Island.

That evening was fancy dress night on the ship. Most of the guests dressed in galabayas, the traditional Egyptian dress worn by men and women that resembles a long nightgown. They are actually quite comfortable, but not roomy enough for dancing without hiking them up a bit. The crew organized some Club Med type games for the party after dinner and it was quite a fun event.

Fancy Dress Night on the Nile Cruise.

16 May

After breakfast we headed to the airport and boarded an Egypt Air flight to Abu Simbel, a half hour flight that put us near the border of Egypt and Sudan on Lake Nasser. Abu Simbel is the site of two temples built by King Ramses II for himself and his favorite wife.

The Egyptians call Ramses II the “Busy Man” as he never did anything in halves. He had dozens of wives and 150-200 children (and they named a brand of condoms after him?), depending on who you talk to. He was a war hero and the first to attempt to create a navigation link between the Red Sea and the Med Sea. I guess his temples couldn’t be garden variety either.

The first extraordinary thing about these two temples is that they were not built in the typical manner of piling stone blocks one on top of the other, but in fact were totally carved into the side of a solid sandstone cliff. Mind you, this was done around 1200 B.C., so it was a bit before they had jackhammers, power drills or dynamite, so one can only guess how many gazillion man-hours of hammer and chisel went into this temple. The painting and reliefs in the temples are mostly intact and they are truly an awesome sight to view. The second extraordinary thing about this site is that in order to prevent the temples from being covered forever by the rising waters as Lake Nasser filled up behind the Aswan high dam, they were painstakingly cut into pieces, in some cases with hand saws, and then meticulously reconstructed on higher ground just above the original site so that the suns rays would penetrate deep into the far reaches of the temples as they did in their original positions The Egyptians literally moved mountains to preserve this amazing piece of history.

Abu Simbel.

We hopped a flight back to Aswan, enjoyed a very tasty local style lunch in town and then boarded an overnight train to Cairo. Our sleeper car was small but reasonably comfortable, the dinner barely edible but greatly improved by a bottle of Jardin du Nile Egyptian wine. We were told that there was beli dancing in the Club Car that evening. When we showed up, we found what looked like a scene out of a 60’s movie, quite smoky from a group of Japanese tourists partying at one end. The beli dancing consisted of one of the waiters dancing with a pair of oranges stuffed into his shirt, who then recruited Susan and Merima to join him. We all had a few laughs and enjoyed a couple drinks before retiring to our cabin.

The overnight train was an interesting experience and we managed to get some rest. If it wasn’t so quiet, at least it wasn’t heeling much, and we didn’t have to take turns standing watch all night.

17 May

We arrived at Geza Station on the outskirts of Cairo at about 0630 after what was meant to be a “continental breakfast.” We hustled off the train and were transferred to the Hotel Mena House. Along the way, quite by surprise, we caught a glimpse of the Great Pyramids out the window.

Set in the shadows of the Great Pyramids, Mena House was once a hunting lodge for the King of Egypt. The hotel remains spectacular in its architecture, décor, beautiful grounds and world-class service. This would have to rate as one of the world’s great hotels, and is truly the nicest place we’ve ever had the pleasure to stay in.

At Mena House.

We spent the day visiting Memphis, the pyramids of Sakkara (a.k.a. the Step Pyramids) the Temple of the Valley, the Great Pyramids of Geza and the Sphinx. While we could have given Memphis and the Step Pyramids a miss, no matter how many times one sees these things in photos, there is absolutely nothing so moving as encountering the Great Pyramids and the Sphinx in person.

At the Pyramids of Giza.

The Sphinx.

While we were at the Great Pyramids, we stopped in to see the “Solar Boat.” This craft was discovered after being preserved in mud for thousands of years. It had no metal fastenings and its 2000-odd wooden pieces were fastened together entirely with rope. The pieces have been reassembled and the boat is on display in a climate controlled pavilion next to one of the pyramids.

The Solar Boat.

After a bit of rest in our posh room, we enjoyed some wine on the balcony overlooking the pyramids, and had a wonderful Indian dinner in one of the hotel’s restaurants. The ambience was exceptional with some beautiful live Indian music in the background.

View of the Pyramid from the balcony.

18 May

After an immense buffet breakfast in the dining room, we began another tough day of sightseeing with our guide Ahmed. Starting at the Citadel of Saladin, we visited the Mosque of Mohammed Ali. It is one of the few mosques where tourists are permitted inside. With its ornate decoration, massive chandeliers, and beautiful 100+ year old hand made oriental rugs, it is a spectacular place of worship. To be there during prayer time must be incredible.

The Mosque of Muhammed Ali.

Cairo is a very big city, with endless quickly built, non-descript, unpainted brick buildings. In the residential slums, rubbish is a huge problem. People just put it into plastic shopping bags and throw it on the roof. I suppose it pays to live in the upper floors of a tall building, but we couldn’t believe that the roofs of many low rise buildings looked like a garbage dump.

Our second stop of the day was a visit to the Egyptian Museum. It is so massive that it can be completely overwhelming, but Ahmed focused us on a few areas of particular interest. After spending quite a bit of time viewing the treasures of Tut Ankh Amun (King Tut), we visited the hall of mummies and then had a wander around the ground level to view some of the larger pieces of the eclectic collection.

Later in the day we had a wander around the Souk of Khan El Khalili bazaar. While the narrow alleys and passages were very interesting architecturally, the shops were mostly full of tourist souvenir type items, and the after awhile the endless touting can be a bit much. We abandoned the shopping early and enjoyed a Turkish coffee and sheesha in one of the small cafes in the narrow passageways.

The Souk.

After a cocktail in the hotel lounge we enjoyed an Egyptian style dinner in the grand dining room of the hotel. After dinner, there was a show of Nubian dancing. The costumes were quite ornate and beautiful and the dancing very unique. After, we had a sheesha out in the garden with a view of the lighted pyramids off in the distance.

If one is keen to visit as many of the Thousand Places to See Before You Die, Egypt is a pretty good place to check out. I think we managed to catch about nine in just one week.

19 May

After a lovely room service breakfast, we hopped into a minivan for the trip back to Abu Tig Marina. On the outskirts of Cairo we made a very important stop-Carrefour! Carrefour is a chain of very nice grocery and general merchandise stores which we were first exposed to in Singapore. We spent three hours overloading a shopping cart with all the goodies that we had been deprived of or run out of since we last did a big provisioning in Southeast Asia.

Arriving back home in the early evening we found Moonshadow looking like she had been parked downwind of a volcanic eruption. In some places the dust was piled up nearly an inch thick!

20 May

We spent the morning washing off the huge accumulation of dust and sand, but with more fresh northerlies forecast, we knew it wouldn’t last long. We couldn’t wait to get out of Egypt, the desert, and the endless dust and sand.

23 May

After spending most of the morning cleaning the Arabian Desert off the inside/outside of Moonshadow, we departed Abu Tig Marina and headed northeast to Shab Umm Usk. We were told that there was a pod of very friendly dolphins there that we might be able to swim with. It was great to be on the move again, in clean air and water and away from the dust and noise of the marina. We didn’t spot any dolphins but enjoyed a quiet night on anchor out in the Red Sea reefs.

24 May

We got under way at about 0630 and retraced our track through the reef pass and headed north through the Straits of Gobul into the Gulf of Suez. We crossed the north/south shipping lanes in favor of the east side of the gulf. We were told that winds and seas are generally lighter on the east side, and it would put us on a more direct course towards Port Suez, well clear of the shipping lanes. With very light breezes forecast, we motored and didn’t even bother to pull off the mainsail cover.

The main hazards there were the myriad of oil wells and drilling rigs. In some areas there were more oil platforms per square mile than Starbucks outlets in a big city. Some of the rigs had long diagonal bits with flames burning at the extreme end, resembling giant genie lamps floating on the sea. Off to our starboard side was the Sinai Peninsula with its barren mountains poking out of the sandy desert. It was reminiscent of the awesome beauty of the scenery along the shore of the Sea of Cortez in Mexico.

A nice southeasterly breeze piped up in the mid-afternoon so we rolled out the genoa, shut down the engine and enjoyed sailing for the first time since we could remember, and made it to the anchorage at Shab el Hasa in time for sundowners.

We were contacted by our Suez Canal agent, Captain Heebi of the Prince of the Red Sea agency, who gave us an update on the weather. He told us that the wind would shift shortly from southeast to northwest. Sure enough, just after sundown, the wind died for a short while and then filled in at 15 knots from the northwest.

25 May

With a fresh northwesterly blowing, we had decided to stay put instead of bashing our way north. Captain Heebi called us at 1000 hours and told us that we should move north immediately or risk being weather bound where we were for 3-4 days, with even higher winds forecast. We got under way within minutes and started bashing through short 2 meter seas and winds up to 21 knots. It was not very comfortable, but we were prepared to put up with a bit of short term pain to avoid being stuck in the middle of nowhere for the rest of the week. After a few hours, the seas gradually began to moderate a bit, and by late in the afternoon we were moving nicely in slight seas and winds of less than 15 knots. We covered about 55 miles before sundown and found a comfortable anchorage off of a resort at Damaran Abu Mieish. This allowed us to escape the zone where the gales were forecast and by the time we settled in for a sundowner, the breeze was less than ten knots.

26 May

We woke up to calm winds, flat waters and a hazy horizon and were under way by 0630 hours, headed for Port Suez. Our course kept us clear of the main shipping channel funneling into and out of the Suez Canal, but through a couple of very large ship anchorages. The approach to Port Suez and the Suez Canal Yacht Club was very easy, and we hugged the right side of the channel to keep clear of the ships queuing up for the morning convoy.

28 May

Transit day!

As we departed Egypt and reflected a bit on our experiences there, we found it to be a friendly and fascinating place, and for the most part the people we came in contact with were warm, friendly and very welcoming. Having an opportunity to get up close and personal with so much incredible history, was truly an experience of a lifetime for us. The food and culture have made impressions that will last a lifetime.

The biggest irritation, more like a constant and annoying background noise, was the extreme tip/gift/baksheesh demand syndrome that has afflicted many of the lower paid people who interface with tourists. With the exceptions of the nice hotel, cruise ship and marinas where we stayed, it seems that nobody will give even the slightest courtesy without expecting or demanding a monetary reward. Policemen at the temples would smile and offer to take your photo, and then demand a tip. Attendants at the tombs would point out an interesting feature, and then stick out their hand. Bus and ferry boat drivers all announce that they wish to receive a gratuity. Most public restrooms have an “attendant” who collected 1 Egyptian Pound (about 18 U.S. cents) for the privilege of using a dirty toilet in a smelly restroom. In one case, when I insisted that the attendant clean an absolutely disgusting toilet before I would pay, he looked at me like I had two heads. Merchants would offer us small “free gifts” and then endlessly hound us to give them a gift (money of course) in return. We unfortunately had to refuse anything that was offered to us “free.” In some cases they were so irritatingly persistent about forcing us to take the “gift,” that we had to just lay it on ground and walk away. On the many occasions when we did pony up with some cash, almost invariably it was not enough, and we were shamelessly pressed for more. We got to the point where we would apologize and take it back, and they would finally realize that they had hit the limit. I think the expectation is that we should have emptied our pockets out and then led them to an ATM where we could get more. If you plan to visit Egypt, make sure you are prepared with a pocket full of small (1 pound and 50 piastres) notes before you go out anywhere in public.

Looking back on the Red Sea, most of the negative things we expected (gale force headwinds, sandstorms blasting off our paint, pirates, etc.), we never encountered, and the countless wonderful experiences we encountered, we never expected.

Posted in All Cruising Logs, Inland Travel Logs, Red Sea Logs | Comments Off on Egypt, Red Sea, the Nile and Cairo

Red Sea Logs-Sudan

Posted on June 5, 2007 by George Backhus

14 April

We had read that sometimes there can be very active patrols on both sides of the Eritrea/Sudan border, but all was quiet for us and it was a mostly uneventful overnight passage to Khor Nawarat. The only interesting situation was a fishing boat adrift that we passed in the morning as we approached Khor Nawarat. When they spotted what they thought was a floating convenience store, they fired up the engine and set about on a collision course. We assumed they were looking for handouts of cigarettes and booze but I wasn’t interested in anyone coming along side-i.e. crashing into our topsides-while we were under way, so I gave the throttle a nudge and we soon left them in our wake. We arrived at the East Passage about 1000 Sudan local time and found the entrance easy and straight forward. C-Map’s charting was spot-on. I caught a glimpse of a lone dugong tail slip into the calm water on the way in. We wound our way around and took anchorage in the lee of Shatira Islet.

The grib files showed another bout of dreaded northerlies on the way, so we planned to hole up there, relax and do some diving for a couple days. We washed another coating of red dust off the boat with what fresh water we could spare. Six other cruisers arrived that day so at least we would have some yachties with which to socialize.

We were visited by some rather rude fisherman who came along side even after my request for them to stay off. They bumped their rough wooden boat into the topsides, and then made requests, actually more like demands, for cigarettes, swim fins, dive masks and fishing line. They were not at all impressed that we only carried enough dive gear for ourselves and don’t smoke. It seems that the “John From” society is alive and well on this side of the planet as well.

15 April

We were visited by some men who claimed to be Sudanese military from a nearby base. They were in an unmarked boat and were not wearing uniforms, but were nicely dressed, friendly and polite and asked to come aboard to check our “permits.” We gave them copies of our passports and the vessel documentation, which they briefly glanced at-upside down-and then handed back to us. Weather or not our paperwork was in order seemed to be of less concern than if Merima was a single woman or if there were any single and unattached women on any of the other boats in the anchorage. I suppose it can be very lonely being a Sudanese soldier in a remote border outpost. We had some nice conversation comparing our respective customs, and when they had more or less determined that they were looking for love in all the wrong places, they gave us a warm welcome to their country and departed. For some odd reason, none of the other boats were visited by these guys.

Most of the yachties in the anchorage gathered on the beach for sundowners that evening. There was an interesting arrangement of sea shells (dead) and gun shells (live), forming the outline of a large cross on the ground. The live shells were apparently remnants of past border disputes with neighboring Eritrea. We set up the nibbles inside and stood around the arrangement socializing. Khor Nawarat is one of the most scenic anchorages we’ve visited so far, and we enjoyed watching the red sun set over the rugged desert mountains just inland from the coast of Sudan.

Sea shells and gun shells.  Happy hour near the Sudan-Eritrea border.

17 April

We departed early in the morning for Long Island, about 50 nm northwest. A 12-15 knot northeasterly filled in at about 1000 hours and we were able to sail and lay our waypoints all the way to the anchorage at Long Island, a rarity when making a northerly transit in the Red Sea.

18 April

We spent the morning doing wash and doing a few chores on board. After lunch we went out to the east side of Long Island and went snorkeling on the reef. The visibility was pretty average, but it was great to see a very alive coral reef with vibrant colors again. It had been awhile! We also saw quite a few sea turtles, an inquisitive school of large trevally and the usual assortment of colorful reef fish. We were looking forward to more diving as we made our way up the Red Sea.

19 April

It was a good day to make some northing, so we departed at 0700 for the port of Suakin via the Shubuk Channel between the shoreline and the offshore reefs. Sea Map charts and waypoints indicated in the Red Sea Pilot were disturbingly far off, and to use them as our sole means of navigation could have been disastrous. There’s no substitute for good light, clear water and “eyeball navigation” which got us and the rest of the fleet through with no dramas that day.

Once we were out of Shubuk channel we had winds bang on the nose at about 12-14 knots. We had to pull the throttle back a bit to avoid pounding in the short, steep seas. Along the way we had a brief but festive dolphin visit.

We arrived at the channel entrance to Suakin harbor about noon. We received a call from Laurie on Faith who requested our assistance in negotiating the channel into the anchorage. Gregg was back on board and recovering from a bad bout of Malaria, but was still very tired and resting from the ordeal. We waited for them for about 20 minutes as we hovered around the entrance and then guided them in through the channel, which was quite narrow at some points, to the anchorage next to the town. The last stretch of the channel passes the ruins of the old city, built circa 1500, now abandoned and left to decay. The whole place looked like the set out of a movie set in biblical times. Sometimes it’s difficult to fathom how people can live so primitively, in the same era, on the same planet as us.

Ruin of an old hotel, Suakin.

Just as I completed a quick oil change on the main engine, Mohammed, the local agent arrived and we handled check in, ordered diesel and dinghy fuel and some local currency, all in about 10 minutes. In contrast to Eritrea, check in to Sudan was very simple and efficient.

20 April

If the check in was a piece of cake, getting a load of diesel into Moonshadow’s tanks was an incredible ordeal. That day, FUEL was a four letter word! The boat with a delivery of four drums of diesel that we had ordered arrived promptly at 0900, and that was about the last thing that went smoothly that day.

Attached to Flintstones-era hand-crank pump that was to be used to transfer the diesel was a piece of very stiff and ill-fitting plastic irrigation pipe. The crowd of guys on the boat began pumping fuel, about half of which was leaking into their boat. They became irritated that I wanted to filter the fuel through my Baja filter. I was irritated that more was going into the bilge of their boat than into the tanks of Moonshadow. Clearly this operation was about as amateur as it could get and we were not impressed.

A screwdriver was requested to tighten the hose clamp. Two turns to tighten it up and it snapped. I supplied them with a brand new hose clamp which six of them struggled to install, but the hose still leaked profusely. I called a time-out as I refused to pay for the fuel that was spilled into the bilge of their boat, and sent them off to get their act together or bring us our money back.

They returned an hour later with a nice new hose, and again requested the screwdriver so they could attach it to their pump. The fit was excellent and we were in business, well at least for about 45 minutes, until it was time to pray. They took off, having pumped less than one 50 gallon drum of diesel into Moonshadow. I wasted the whole afternoon waiting on board for them to return. At least Merima was able to get into town to have a look around and pick up some fresh provisions at the market.

When they did return at 1600 hours, one character dressed in what looked like a service station attendant’s uniform, hopped on board, uninvited and sprawled himself out in our cockpit as if he was a sultan on his personal yacht. Merima and I looked on in horror as he ran his greasy grubby hands on our canvas cockpit cushions, leaving rusty diesel stains all over the material. We asked him to be careful, but he kept touching the boat, leaving fingerprints all over. Merima finally lost patience and demanded that he get off our boat. He was obviously quite irritated at having a woman, let alone one that he considers to be an infidel, speak to him like that, and chose to ignore her. I had also run out of patience and got up to “usher” him off our boat. He realized that I wasn’t there to shake his grubby hand farewell and decided it would be wise to get back aboard his boat under his own steam. He rejoined his colleagues, all of whom thought that the situation was quite humorous. We were not at all amused by this disrespectful buffoon.

The fueling took two more hours. While the group of guys on the fuel boat took turns pumping, I had to stop them every 10-15 minutes to clean the Baja Filter as it became clogged with the profusion of sediment in the fuel. The rest of the yachts in the anchorage looked on, unimpressed, as they heard me regularly cleaning my filter with compressed air and patiently awaited their turn to get crappy fuel. At this rate, I thought, some might have to wait for days! It was the worst fueling experience I’d ever had, full stop. At least we had enough diesel to get us to the next proper fuel dock some 400+ miles north in Egypt. I politely suggested to Mohammed that if his drums were clean, the process would be much faster, as all of the boats had been forewarned to filter the fuel.

Hand pumping diesel from drums, Suakin.

21 April

We spent the morning wandering around Suakin town. Suakin is a remnant to Sudan’s slave trade, and appears to have been frozen in time about 500 years ago. There didn’t appear to be any electricity or running water. Transportation was mostly donkey carts, but we did see a few camels here and there, one with a lovely jeweled bridal. Most of the buildings were nothing more than shacks that had been thrown together from scraps of wood and corrugated iron with a few crumbling stone or mudbrick structures interspersed. Even the mosques appeared to be very basic and primitive, lacking the materials to build the ubiquitous tall and narrow minarets we’ve seen elsewhere.

Water tanker, Suakin.

There were very few women around, and those that we did see were almost totally covered. Most of the men were wearing traditional Arab dress. Quite a few were carrying daggers or swords. Everyone seemed very friendly and we were greeted warmly by many people we passed. The younger men wanted their pictures taken and laughed when they saw their digital image on the camera screen.

Some friendly locals, Suakin.

We found some good basic fruits and veggies at the fresh market. We passed a meat market that would have made a coroner feel squeamish. While we kept our distance, we did peek in here and there and saw one stall that sold just goat heads! By the look on one customer’s face, we gathered that they were quite a delicacy.

The fresh market, Suakin

Merima bartering for eggs at the market.

A happy customer planning a meal of goat’s head soup.

After shopping and wandering around a bit, we stopped in at a café for a cuppa. This place was about as far on the opposite side of the spectrum from Starbucks as it was from Seattle. Water was heated over an open fire in the corner of the stone walled room. Between the smoke and the flies, the air was pretty thick, but our coffee and tea were excellent. Other patrons greeted us and chatted while we relaxed and enjoyed our brews. Suakin is one of those places that truly can be described as “National Geographic.”

The coffee house in Suakin.

That evening, most of the cruisers gathered for happy hour in the “lobby bar” in the ruin of an old hotel on water’s edge at old Suakin. It looks as if it had once been a grand place and with open-air ceilings, it provided an interesting atmosphere for sundowners.

Happy hour in the hotel lobby bar.

22 April

We departed Suakin at about 0630 and headed north through the channel inside the offshore reef. Just abeam Port Sudan, we stopped in at a small bight in the Wingate Reefs and dove on the wreck of the Umbria. The Umbria was an Italian flagged ship scuttled at the beginning of WWII to prevent the British from commandeering her and her cargo. It was a pristine wreck, covered in very alive and brightly covered hard and soft corals, sponges and shells. The visibility was well over 100 feet, making it a spectacular dive. There were loads of fish, including a very large grouper and two barracuda about five feet long each. There were still lots of bottles, jars and other unidentifiable objects in the cargo holds. It was Merima’s first dive on a sunken ship and now I’m afraid she’s hooked on wreck diving. A few weeks later when we were glancing at a dive guide, we read that while the Umbria was considered the best wreck dive in the Red Sea, there were still enough explosives on board to level Port Sudan. I don’t think anyone will be smoking down there.

After the dive, we picked up the anchor and motored north into headwinds to a small bay called Marsa Daror, where we anchored for the night. A marsa is a river mouth opening to the sea, and in this part of the Red Sea, they occur at fairly close intervals, making for convenient day hopping up the coast, or a place to duck in if the weather turns nasty. Entry into the marsa was straight forward and everything was as it was charted on C-Map. The anchorage was tight and non-descript, but as an overnight stop afforded good protections and good holding in mud. We had sundowners aboard Breakaway along with the Monte Cristo’s.

23 April

We followed our electronic track out of Marsa Daror at first light and headed up the coastal route as far as we could before turning north northeast towards Jazirat Bayer, a small island surrounded by reef. As we moved away from the coast, we found that the reef was poorly charted. Fortunately it was a clear and calm day with good light, so we could weave our way around the shallow patches along our course line. We arrived at Jazirat Bayer about 1430 hours and entered the well marked pass into the long, narrow lagoon and anchored just inside.

As soon as we were settled in, we hopped into the dinghy and went just outside of the pass on the north side where we went snorkeling for about an hour. The visibility was very good, the coral was pristine and sea life varied and abundant. We saw many large grouper, coral trout, snapper and other delectables, as well as a plethora of colorful reef fish. The Red Sea had been some of the best diving I’ve seen in years!

24 April

We departed Jazirat Bayer just after the sun broke the horizon and headed for Khor Shinab, about 40 miles to the north. It was an easy motor sail in light winds and calm seas, and we still had excellent light upon our arrival around mid day to navigate the narrow three-mile passage into the best anchorage.

Khor Shinab is a very unique anchorage which was reminiscent of being up a river in the middle of the desert. It also reminded me a lot of the Sea of Cortez in Mexico, sans cactus.

After a quick lunch we took the dinghy back out to the pass and went for a dive. The wind was getting up to 15+ knots by then so it was a bit lumpy on the surface, but down below the visibility was good, there was lots of sea life and the coral was very alive and colorful. It’s interesting that the water in the Red Sea seems to be bluer underwater than in other places we have dived. We saw one very large barracuda, a small lionfish, a small stingray and many nice coral trout, grouper, trevally and snapper. We decided to go back next time with just snorkel gear for some spear fishing.

25 April

Just after listening in to the Red Sea Net, we took a walk up Quoin Hill along with most of the other yachties in the anchorage. It was an easy walk, as the weather was rather cool considering we were in the African desert. The terrain, soil and rock all seemed strangely unfamiliar to us, but the views that the walk afforded were spectacular. From the summit of the hill there was a commanding view of our surrounds. We could see back three+ miles down the marsa to the Red Sea and inland many miles to the mountains. There was a whole lot of nothing there, and if one wasn’t transiting the Red Sea, there would be little chance one would ever encounter this beautiful and rugged spot. After lunch, Jordi from Cormoran and I went out spear fishing in hopes of finding the main course for the barbeque/birthday party for David on Raconteur planned for that evening . We went back out to the entrance of the marsa and came back with a 15 lb snapper, two 5 lb trevally and a 4 lb coral trout. There was plenty of fish to feed the crowd of 18 that night, and we had a festive pot luck dinner that carried on well into the still, moonlit evening. I presented David with the “Horny Man” toy that was presented to my by Beth and Al from Sunflower for my last birthday in Malaysia. This was one of those gifts meant to be passed on among cruisers and is good for a belly laugh.

Hiking at Khor Shinab.

Fish speared for David’s birthday party dinner.

David is presented with the “Horny Man.”

26 April

We decided to chill out one more day in Khor Shinab and get some chores done. We cleaned Moonshadow’s bottom, made some repairs to the dinghy and did some planning for the rest of the Red Sea cruise. The grib files looked good for at least the next three days, so we planned to get moving the following day.

27 April

We lifted the anchor at 0700 and bid farewell to Khor Shinab, the nicest anchorage we’d visited in the Red Sea so far. Following the inside passage we made our way north in 10-15 knot northerlies, but the seas were mostly shielded by the offshore reef. Thirty miles north we turned seaward and went out to Elba Reef. Conditions were light and entrance into the reef was easy with good light. We anchored about 50 meters from one of the small passes so we could dive without having to launch the dinghy.

After lunch we got into the water and I could hear dolphin voices. They were about two boat lengths away but didn’t come any nearer when they could tell we were in the water.

We swam out over the reef to the seaward side. The visibility was excellent and there were lots of interesting caves and swim-throughs. The coral and sea life were both very nice. Near the end of the dive, I shot a nice sized coral trout for dinner. Before I could get it off the spear and into the catch bag, a half dozen reef sharks had come around and circled the wagons. I could tell by their movements and the angles of their pectoral fins that they had more than a passing interest in my catch, so I moved well away from the gun, spear and fish and began yelling at the sharks. After a couple of loud underwater shouts, they moved off and we were able to get our main course back to Moonshadow without having to share it with the men in gray suits. We cooked it up whole that evening and enjoyed a wonderful seafood feast and planned to sail for Egypt the following morning.

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Are you using Skype and Wifi to stay in touch?

Posted on April 19, 2007 by George Backhus

The technology available to the cruiser these days is continuing to make it easier to keep in touch with family and friends, to keep abreast of information on what lies ahead, and to share information with those who plan or would like to be out here.

While we’ve not really used Skype much, we think that Voice Over Internet is an excellent concept and it makes it much easier and cheaper for yachties to keep in touch with those who are far away. We spend very little time on long distance phone calls, and are still happy to have more private conversations when we have cell phone coverage. We usually get a local SIM card when we’re going to be in a country for more than a few weeks, so the cost to call the States/New Zealand is relatively low.

We love WiFi!! We purchased two new laptop computers in Malaysia and both have mobile technology installed. Wherever there is WiFi, we can get connected to the Internet without any additional equipment. “Hot Spots” are becoming more common in the areas we’ve been cruising.

Many of the marinas in Singapore and Malaysia now have WiFi, which can be accessed from on board in the marina or a nearby anchorage. If it wasn’t free, the cost was just a few dollars a day.

Where the marinas didn’t have WiFi, we’ve usually managed to find a café that has access for as little as the price of a cup of coffee. Many major airports such as Changi in Singapore and KLIA in Kuala Lumpur have WiFi throughout, so while we are awaiting flights, we can check email or surf the web.

Occasionally, there are open networks in range, either from nearby homes, businesses or mega yachts that are not secured which have allowed us to gain access to the Internet when we are close by.

We don’t use any additional gear than is already in the computer, but if there was an antenna that allowed us to snatch the signal from miles out to sea, we would surely buy one!

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The Red Sea: Yemen and Eritrea

Posted on April 15, 2007 by George Backhus

29 March

We lifted the anchor at about 0600 in the morning from the anchorage off the small fishing village of Ra’s Al ‘Arah. The sky was overcast and there was an eerie layer of haze on the water. The morning breeze was just a couple of knots so we motorsailed west along the south coast of Yemen, near the west end of the Gulf of Aden. As we approached Bab el Mandeb or the Gates of Sorrow, the breeze filled in to 8-10 knots from the northwest. Once the sun rose higher, the haze disappeared as we had hoped for, and we had much better visibility when rounding the corner from the Gulf of Aden into the Red Sea.

We opted to pass through the small strait between Perim Island and mainland Yemen, since it was the shorter route, and it also kept us well clear of the steady stream of heavy shipping traffic funneling through the large strait just to our west. Even the large strait is only about 11 miles across at its narrowest point, and with a steady stream of supertankers and mega-container ships, this area can be like a maritime version of rush hour on a southern California freeway.

Camel train stop, Eritrea.

As we passed through the small strait, we noted that the land to either side of us was parched and barren of vegetation. It looked like it had a thorough going over with an extraterrestrial blow torch. The lighthouse on Perim Island was surrounded by a fortification which appeared to be from the colonial era, and there were some other buildings which appeared to be towers and bunkers, indicating that this had once been an important strategic point. To starboard on the mainland, there were castles or forts on the tops of the peaks overlooking the sea. The lack of anything modern in appearance gave it all a surrealistic appearance, and looking at it was like taking a quick time machine ride back into biblical times.

As we turned the corner, breathing a faint sigh of relief that we had finally reached the Red Sea, the wind came on the nose. Another milestone behind us, another challenge ahead! The seas were slight, so the ride was still comfortable. We made our way across the designated shipping channel, weaving nicely between the flow of traffic, and into the safety of the Rubitino Channel, which is the approach to Assab, one of the two major sea ports of Eritrea. If your atlas is a bit dated, this was once part of Ethiopia. We bore away into the channel, and rolled out the genoa, shut down the engine, and sailed for a couple of hours toward our day’s destination.

A fishing dhow near Assab.

In the channel we were passed by a brightly painted fishing dhow that appeared to be an early Noah design, but with an engine. The crew seemed very friendly and greeted us with wildly waving arms. A bit further along, we were approached by a smaller, more modern boat crewed by a couple of local fellows. They also waved their arms wildly and signaled their excitement and approval of this yacht charging up the channel under full sail with a bone in her teeth. They turned around and came close and asked us to stop. We’re not sure what they were after or if they were government officials out of uniform, but we signaled to them that it was too hard, and we needed to carry on so that we could make it through the channels and reefs to Assab while there was still good light. They seemed to be satisfied with this.

As we approached the Port of Assab, a radio call to Port Control went unanswered. We anchored just to the south of the commercial port just before sunset. The port was closed and the town was quiet. We assumed that this was because it was a Thursday, the local Muslim weekly holiday. The anchorage was calm and we celebrated our arrival in the Red Sea with sundowners. We learned from Jean Leon of Monte Cristo (the only other boat in the anchorage) that the city had pretty much become a ghost town. All the Europeans that had once lived there shifted to Djibouti during the last of many wars of independence against Ethiopia, and the port remains closed. We saw very few lights in town that night.

30 March

We gave Moonshadow a much needed and well deserved bubble bath. I spent the afternoon doing some minor repairs and light maintenance. We listened in on regular Net reports about Gregg on Faith, who is in hospital in Asmara, apparently with a nasty case of malaria that he had contracted in Sri Lanka or Yemen. We also learned that diesel fuel was no longer available to visiting yachts in Massawa, our next planned fuel stop. Sounding the tanks, we determined that we would have enough to make it to Suakin or Port Sudan, provided we sailed as much as possible and used very conservative power settings when we were forced to use the engine. Also, we decided we would move when the winds were light or favorable, and hunker down (and do some diving) when the prevailing northerlies became fresh.

31 March

We departed Assab at first light, headed for the Hanish Islands. The Hanish Islands are a barren group of volcanic islands in the middle of the Red Sea, which are Yemenese territory. They make for a convenient stopover point for small boats heading up or down the Red Sea looking for rest and respite from unfavorable winds and seas. Winds were light from the west-northwest, but we were able to sail at 5.5-6 knots close-hauled in about 8 knots of breeze. The winds died about half way there and the sea became oily smooth. We motor sailed the rest of the way to Suyul Hanish and arrived in the early afternoon. Suyul Hanish is not much more than a few volcanic cones poking up out of the sea. Apparently it is quite valuable to the Yemeni, as there are rough stone bunkers and covered guns in emplacements visible on high points around the island. A few people wearing very tattered civilian clothing came out to have a look when we arrived and anchored on the south side of the island. Satisfied that we were not going to try to take this slice of paradise in the middle of the Red Sea by storm, they returned to their business, which appeared to be endless resting. It must be hot as heck on the island, which is mostly dark volcanic stone, and there was virtually no vegetation. We felt the heat radiating out to the anchorage, and it was barely spring!

Hanish Islands, Yemen. Clear water, fish, and gun emplacements.

The water surrounding the island was crystal clear and we could see the bottom easily in 15 meters. There were schools of fish breaking the surface of the water in unison, making a loud whooshing sound. We hopped in for a cool dip and enjoyed diving down a few meters into the cooler thermo clines below. Merima reminded me that it was the first time we’d been off the boat in a week. Just on sunset, we began to feel a hint of a southerly breeze. Rather than sit on a lee shore if this breeze should fill in, we shifted to a more suitable anchorage on the north side of Suyul Hanish and anchored for the night.

1 April

We were awakened at O-dark-hundred to howling winds, with bullets of up to 35 knots, whistling though the rigging. We weighed anchor at 0600 and headed for Mersa Dudo, about 50 miles to the northwest on the Eritrean coast. It was too rolly and blustery to even think about setting the main, so we just rolled out a little bit of the genoa and sailed nearly DDW (dead down wind). It was a quick trip which we made in about 5-1/2 hours. The April Fools joke that the wind gods played on us was that both the anchorages in the area were untenable in a southeasterly gale. We would have loved to spend a night or two there to see the turtles come ashore to lay their eggs during the full moon, and enjoy the awesome beauty of the landscape, but Mersa Dudo was engulfed in a desert sand storm! Nearby Sadla Island, a secondary anchorage, had swirling winds and bullets to 40 knots. We tried to anchor in its lee, but were being pushed back into the island. Since we wouldn’t have gotten any sleep there anyway, we decided to set sail again, heading northward to points unknown. We thought we might as well take advantage of the southerly breeze for as long as it lasted, and we most certainly would have been more comfortable sailing DDW than at anchor. A few miles further north, conditions settled down a bit so we plotted a course for Port Smyth, about 150 miles north and 30 miles from Massawa. The winds gradually moderated throughout the day and by nightfall we were motor sailing in a light breeze.

At Port Smyth, Eritrea

2 April

The winds shifted around to on the nose, but remained light at 6-8 knots and the rolly following sea moderated. We arrived at Port Smyth at about 1000 hours and entry through the pass was too easy with good visibility in the crystal clear waters. We were greeted by David and Linde from Raconteur just after we anchored. Port Smyth is a lovely anchorage. We were happy to be at rest again, and planned to spend a couple of days there to do some walking and diving. A couple from the Spanish catamaran Calcetines in the anchorage popped by and brought us a couple of reef fish which they had just speared out on the reef, so we had a lovely dinner of fresh seafood.

3 April

After the morning Net we took a walk on Shumma Island. It was quite dry and barren, but there was evidence that there had once been some sort of settlement there. We saw ruins of a jetty, a water cistern and a few other buildings. There were also lots of shells all over the raised coral island. It appears that visitors, probably local fishermen, would camp and dine on clams and conch they caught on the nearby reefs. The yachties in the anchorage had sundowners and snacks on the beach that evening, so we had a chance to get acquainted and swap stories with all those we’ve been chatting with on the radio on the Indian Ocean/Red Sea Net for the past couple of months.

4 April

Winds were still fresh out of the north, but easing, so we decided to postpone the trip to Massawa for at least another day and catch up on a few odd jobs on the boat.

5 April

Winds were very light so we motor sailed to Massawa. Winds dropped to nothing on the way so I dropped the main and washed the coating of red dust off the boat as we motored along in mill pond-like conditions. As we approached Massawa, we contacted Port Control, who told us to tie up to the commercial wharf and report to Immigration as soon as we arrived. Merima and I brought Moonshadow alongside the rough bulkhead brilliantly, with much effort at about 1230 hours, only to discover that Immigration was closed till 4 pm. The other arriving yachts were being directed straight to the anchorage. Friggin’ idiots! We managed to get away from the commercial wharf, narrowly avoiding damage to the topsides, and proceeded to the anchorage. We went to Immigration, the Port Captain and Customs after 1600 hours. The “other” Immigration office for processing visas was, of course, closed by then. Massawa was turning out to be a royal pain in the ass! We went out to dinner at Beaches Restaurant with Como No, Gemini and Bluenose. Merima’s jandals and crocs were pinched from the dinghy while we were at dinner.

6 April

I finally cleaned the starboard side of the boat of the horrible oil stains we acquired in the anchorage at Salalah. What a job! We went ashore late in the morning to get our visas for inland travel and were told Immigration was closed till 1600 hours. Went back and met a local man named Mike who owns a small café and looks after the yachties. He was very helpful. We later managed to get our visas from a very polite and efficient Immigration officer but had no joy getting permits to visit the Eritrean capital of Asmara, because the Depts. of Tourism was all out of permit forms (they don’t even have a copier!) and the Department of Internal Security was closed. We were told to come back the next morning. Susan from Gemini had organized a minibus so we could all leave first thing in the morning on Easter Sunday.

7 April

We went back to the Dept. of Tourism and he still had no forms. The guy handed me what he claimed was his last form and asked me to go next door to a copy shop and make three copies per person. Of course it was closed. We had to go all the way back to Moonshadow to make copies, so I made enough copies for all ten of us going. Merima and I got our permits from the Tourism Dept. but the Security Department next door was closed, apparently for a four-day Easter weekend. The tourism guy took us to the Security officer’s home and after much talking in their tongue, said he would open for us all to get permits. By the time we got back, all the rest of those wishing to go to Asmara were at the Dept. of Tourism to apply for their travel permits. The security guy showed up, but refused to process the paperwork and told everyone they would have to come back at 5 PM for their security clearance. We all felt that this was highly disrespectful, considering all that was involved was a rubber stamp. A few quick chops and all of us would have been happily on our way. The group dubbed the place the “Department of Anti-tourism” and unanimously decided it had enough of this bullshit. We all agreed that we would depart Eritrea first thing the following day and report to the fleet behind us that Eritrea was just too hard and should be given a miss. The Tourism guy, seeing half his annual visitor count evaporating before his eyes, got very nervous and after a lot of spirited talking and negotiating between him and the security guy, we were told that one person could come back at five and pick up all the forms. This sounded like a palatable compromise, so we agreed. An hour later the tourism guy, feeling very bad about how we had been jerked around, found some of the yachties down by the wharf at a café and handed over all the forms that had been stamped by Mr. Security. For a country with the second lowest GDP in the world, literally begging for tourism dollars, they sure made it excruciatingly painful for anyone to visit what little they have to see.

8 April-Easter Sunday

A baboon along the road near Asmara.

Bluenose was boarded and robbed during the night, so some of the group planning on going to Asmara became worried about security and passed on the trip. We set the alarm system on Moonshadow and were on the bus at 0730 for the breathtaking four-hour ride up into the cooler inland mountains of Eritrea. Leaving Massawa, we first passed through typical African desert with sheep, goats and camels grazing on what little vegetation could be found amongst the parched, sandy and rocky terrain. The desert gave way to rolling hills, then green mountains with scenic little villages. The next range of mountains was steeper and dryer. The predominant vegetation was prickly pear cactus clinging to the rocky mountain faces. The road was pretty good, but rather narrow with hairpin turns seemingly carrying on into infinity. Near Asmara we encountered three baboons lined up on a stone fence to the side of the road, seemingly telling us to see, speak and hear no evil. After the fourth security checkpoint, we finally rolled into Asmara with its beautiful wide boulevards, palm trees and lovely 1930’s era European architecture. Within a few hundred meters, it was as if we had been beamed from the African continent to a village in Tuscany. We were taken straight to the Asmara Central Hotel, where, on the third try, they managed to find us a decent room with all the facilities we were promised; an attached bathroom, running water and a toilet that worked.

The fresh market in Asmara.

Early in the 20th century, Asmara was an Italian enclave in the heart of North Africa. It still has the feeling of a small Italian city with its architecture, outdoor cafes and other Italian influences throughout. Many people here still speak Italian.

An Italian market, Asmara


We parked our bags in the room and immediately walked to the middle of town. The main street was crowded with locals promenading in their Sunday best, and the sidewalk cafes were buzzing with activity. We could have easily been on the boulevard of an Italian town, except there was nary a Caucasian face to be seen. Women wore bright, colorful outfits and men wore designer suits or a local costume which was white from head to toe. Most all the shops were closed for the holiday. We enjoyed a great pizza at an Italian restaurant on the main street and afterwards had a nice stroll around the central city. After a rest, we went out to dinner at an African/Italian restaurant called Milano with very African décor. The city was very busy and loud that night and we had trouble sleeping for all the loud music and revelry.

9 April

A housewares stall at the market in Asmara.

Asmara appeared to be back to normal. Shops were open and we walked through local markets selling everything from fruits and vegetable to clothing, housewares and furniture. Wandering through the various shops, we found some great local Italian style coffee, cheeses, grissini (bread sticks) and a few other delectables such as artichokes. We had a lingering lunch at an excellent outdoor Italian trattoria and by 1400 we were ready to head home.

10 April

The ride back to Massawa was faster, as it was mostly downhill. There were lots of baboons along the road on the first leg of the trip. We stopped and fed them bananas and they gathered around and climbed on our minibus. The rest of the trip was beautiful, if uneventful. We returned to Moonshadow and found her fine, other than a fresh layer of fine red dust. This must be why they call it the Red Sea!

First thing in the morning, we checked out of Massawa. We had to move Moonshadow near the commercial wharf so, believe it or not, Immigration could come aboard before we departed to check that there were no stowaways or local people being smuggled to the outside world. Apparently Eritrea keeps its borders sealed to prevent a “brain drain” of its best and smartest to other countries with more opportunity. The Immigration officer, who obviously didn’t fall into either category, forgot to stamp us out on our passports when I was in his office, so I had to go ashore again and hike a kilometer back to the office after we had our departure inspection. This would have been the perfect opportunity to pick up a few stowaways. Bloody idiots!

We finally got away at about 0900 and headed for Sheikh al Abu Island. We motorsailed in light breezes about half way and then shut the motor down and enjoyed a quiet sail the rest of the way, tight reaching in 5-7 knots of breeze. We failed on our first attempt at anchoring as the anchor held, but the bottom gave way. When we pulled up the anchor, we found that we had captured yet another huge “Bruce boulder.” Once again our big crowbar saved the day!

11 April

We opted to spend the day anchored in the lee of Sheikh al Abu Island, as by early morning the breeze was up to 15 knots out of the north. The other three yachts sharing the anchorage departed at 0600, headed north, and returned after a few hours of bashing into the weather and making very little progress in the short, steep seas. Winds had gotten up to the mid to high 20’s from the north. We had a bit of water saved up, so washed off a ton of red dirt from all the leading edges, and started catching up on some correspondence.

12 April

The winds were still out of the north, but had dropped to around 15 knots. We decided again to stay put till it dropped a bit more or shifted direction. The red dirt has started accumulating on all the leading edges again. The Red Sea is relentless!

13 April – Friday the 13th!

Not the best day to leave if you are superstitious, but the weather window looked good for at least 24 hours. We headed north with the option to tuck into Difnein Island if the northerlies were too strong or seas too uncomfortable. When we were close, the winds were light but on the nose and we were motorsailing comfortably into it. We decided to press on to Khor Nawarat, across the border into Sudan, another 120 nm north. At this speed we would arrive the following day and be able to negotiate the narrow pass with good light. Just after we passed Difnein, the wind clocked to NE, probably influenced by the warming of the land to our port side, so we rolled out the genoa, sheeted it home and sailed till the winds dropped off to low single digits at sunset. This saved us about 5-6 hours of diesel, easing our fuel concerns a bit more.

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Salalah, Oman to Eritrea (Pirate Alley)

Posted on April 14, 2007 by George Backhus

We’ve just spent a most delightful week in and around Salalah, Oman and are on the move again. Salalah has been a wonderful introduction to the Middle East-beautiful sights, friendly and helpful people, and excellent food. We explored ancient tombs, rugged mountains, 15th century ruins and saw more camels than one could imagine. We wish we could have spent more time, but we don’t want to miss the favorable conditions at this time of year for moving north up the Red Sea. We’ll get a report out about our visit when we’re able.

This passage will take us through the Gulf of Aden, labeled by some as “Pirate Alley.” From a security standpoint, this is probably the piece of water that cruising sailors fear the most. That said, with more Coalition Forces activity in the area, combined with a step up in patrols by the Yemeni Coast Guard, it appears to be much safer than in days past.

We’re on the trailing edge of this year’s cruising fleet and have heard no reports of any attacks or attempted attacks on cruising yachts preceding us. Even in years past, the odds of facing off with pirates has been less than 1%. We’re willing to face the odds and move on, albeit with a bit more caution than we usually exercise on passage.

Convoy or alone, that has been the question. Many of the yachts before us have formed convoys for the passage, while others have gone alone. Statistically, in past years boats in convoys have fared no better or worse than yachts going it alone. There is no doubt that from an emotional standpoint, it is much nicer to have others around, but it definitely makes the trip more slow and difficult, and in the past, pirates have had no qualms about robbing five or six boats in one go.

The negatives of a convoy, for us anyway, outweigh the positives. We would have been happy to convoy with some yachts of similar speed capabilities if there were some. Most of the convoys are using a speed of advance of 5 to 5.5 knots, and sailing in close formation, which at night without nav lights can be a challenge. We expect to maintain a speed of advance of 7.5 to 9 knots with liberal use of the engine. This will reduce our time in “Pirate Alley” from five days to three and change, for the 600 nautical mile trip. I liken it to walking across the freeway. The longer the time you spend in the middle, the greater your exposure to getting whacked. We feel the ability to move fast and change course quickly may be an advantage.

Our strategy is to remain 15 to 20 miles off the Yemeni coast, maintain a constant radar and visual watch, and steer to avoid, or speed up to remain clear of any small vessels that may have a close point of approach. We will avoid any radio chatter, position reporting and run with no navigation lights at night.

Merima and I will be back to a “two-handed” crew for the remainder of the trip to the Med and have spent some time preparing in the event that we are approached by a boat that exhibits hostile intentions. We have set a procedure for making Pan Pan or Mayday calls, and have telephone numbers handy for the U.S. 5th Fleet, Yemeni Coast Guard, the French Navy and the Anti Piracy HELPLINE.

At the end of the day, these people who are labeled as “Pirates” are usually no more than poor fishermen who perceive cruising yachts as floating pots of gold, and are hoping to supplement their income by a bit of assertive begging. Even in the past, where robberies have occurred, we’ve not heard of any yachties being physically injured. Should we determine that an armed boarding is imminent, our intention is to call a Mayday, set off the EPIRB, launch flares, attempt to remain calm and then surrender. There is nothing aboard that cannot be replaced excepting our lives.

We’ll be departing shortly and plan to get a report off daily to let you know how we go.

Day 1

We’ve yet to see any dodgy characters out here, nor any of the 15 to 20 knots of wind forecast for the Gulf of Aden. So far it’s been 5-8 knots of breeze from well behind the beam, and we’ve been motor sailing since we departed Salalah. The good news is that we’ve had a half to one knot push from the current as we’ve been cruising off the coast of Yemen. Our first 24 hour run was 216 nautical miles.

Other than the usual shipping traffic running along parallel courses, we spotted two pods of humpback whales yesterday morning, and a large pod of dolphins played and sang around the boat this morning.

Last night the cell phone went off as we caught reception from Yemen. Its sort of strange to be out in the middle of nowhere, out of sight of land and be able to send text messages to mates here and there.

We’re hoping that the breeze fills in and we can conserve our fuel. If so, we may give Aden a miss and press on into the Red Sea and make landfall in Eritrea, roughly eighteen hours further down the track. We’ll make the call tomorrow some time.

Day 2

After 41 hours of motor sailing in light airs, we finally hooked into some breeze late last night. We are now sailing fast in a northeasterly breeze in the low 20’s Unfortunately this is right along the rhumb line, so we are now gybing across the northern half of the Gulf of Aden, favoring the Yemeni coast with it’s positive current.

There has been plenty of shipping traffic to keep us on our toes. We almost always have at least one or two large ships in sight. We’ve also seen a couple of traditional fishing dhows and a couple of small open boats, none of which has diverted course to come say hello (i.e. ask for booze and cigarettes) so far.

The only close encounters we’ve had have been with a sailfish that surfaced, with its large dorsal fin fully exposed, just a few feet off the port side of “Moonshadow.” We also were entertained for awhile yesterday morning by a large pod (at least 50) of black spinner dolphins. They seem to be more acrobatic than other species, and a couple of babies were doing some high jumps.

Our 24 hour run from yesterday was 205 miles, and we’ve got just a few more hours before we’re out of what is known as “Pirate Alley.” We’ve got plenty of company out here, and with a short steep seaway, its no place for a small speedboat such as the type pirates might use.

Since we have good breeze and plenty of fuel, we’ve decided to bypass Aden and head straight through the Gates of Sorrow into the Red Sea and make our first landfall in Eritrea near the town of Assab. If the breeze holds, we should make it by tomorrow evening for a late happy hour.

Day 3

“Pirate Alley” is now behind us (big sigh of relief!) and the Red Sea is just ahead.

The wind has still been blowing very steadily down the course line at 16-23 knots , which means that we’ve had to gybe five times to make our way to the next waypoint. We’ve made good 165 miles in the last 24 hours, although we’ve probably sailed at least 200 miles over the water. We’re happy to have wind instead of engine noise!

Weaving our way through the large volume of shipping traffic has been our greatest challenge, and we’ve yet to have any sort of small craft come close or change direction towards us.

On one occasion last night we were headed towards a fleet of five small fishing boats all showing small red flashing strobes, similar to the type that was commonly used in Asia. We gybed away before ever actually seeing any of them.

As of this writing, we have roughly 100 nautical miles to the Gates of Sorrow, the entrance to the Red Sea. We hope to be anchored in Eritrea some time early tomorrow morning.

Day 4

On our fourth day out, we enjoyed a nice day of sailing as we passed the port of Aden. Reports from cruising friends who had called in there were that it was dirty, difficult and unless one wanted to travel inland to the capital of San’A’, it should be given a miss.

Other than a case of DDW syndrome, meaning that our mark was dead-down-wind of our position, we enjoyed a nice day of sailing. When the winds dropped below the 20 knot mark, we put up the spinnaker for a few hours. The 1-1.5 knot positive current we had enjoyed slowly evaporated. Unfortunately, we weren’t making the sort of forward progress we had hoped for as we were gybing across the course line, and we would have missed passing through the Gates of Sorrow in daylight.

We decided to take a break and took anchorage for the night at a small Yemeni fishing village called Ra’S Al’Arah about 30 nm from the gates and proceed again at first light in the morning.

Shortly after we anchored, we were approached by a long open fishing vessel with about ten Yemeni men aboard. They were very warm and friendly. I gave them a few packs of cigarettes, which they immediately began to enjoy. While they were mostly in traditional dress, two of the men indicated that they were military. They asked for our papers, so I gave them a letter of introduction (in Arabic) and copies of our passports and ship’s documentation. They were very polite and asked if they could keep the paperwork, which I agreed to. They also asked if we needed any services from their village. I explained that we just wanted to rest there for the night and would move on in the morning. We said our goodbye and they moved on.

After a very restful night, we got under way at 0600 this morning for the last leg of our trip to Assab Bay in Eritrea, about 75 miles to the northwest.

Day 5

Starting out early yesterday morning, the sky was overcast and there was a low haze on the water. Winds were just a couple of knots as we motor sailed from our anchorage on the south coast of Yemen. As we approached the Gates of Sorrow, the breeze filled in to 8-10 knots from the northwest. As the sun rose higher, the haze faded and we had much better visibility as we rounded the corner from the Gulf of Aden into the Red Sea.

We opted to pass through the small strait between Perim Island and mainland Yemen, as it was the shortest route, and it also kept us well clear from the steady stream of heaving shipping traffic funneling through the large strait, only about 11 miles across at its narrowest point.

As we passed through the small strait, the earth to either side of us looked parched and almost barren of vegetation. The lighthouse on Perim Island was surrounded by a fortification which appeared to be from the colonial era, and there were some other buildings, towers and bunkers, indicating that this was an important strategic point. To starboard on the mainland, there were castles or forts on the tops of the nearby peaks. The lack of anything modern in appearance gave it all a surrealistic appearance of being back in biblical times. It probably looked as it did a thousand years ago.

As we turned the corner, breathing a sigh of relief that we had finally reached the Red Sea, the wind came on the nose. The seas were negligible so the ride was comfortable. We made our way across the shipping channel, weaving nicely between the flow of traffic, and into the Rubitino Channel, the approach to Assab. As we bore away into the channel, we rolled out the genoa, shut down the engine and sailed toward Assab.

Two men in a small boat came close, cheering and waving their hands, apparently giving their approval to us as we roared through the channel at 9 knots under full sail. They came close and tried to speak to us, but we could not hear them well or understand what they wanted. The driver asked us to stop the boat, as if it was as simple as touching the brake pedal, while he was wiping the repeated pelts of salt spray from his face. They did not look official, so we indicated that we needed to press on to Assab so that could arrive before dark. He seemed to be OK with this and they sped off.

Shortly after, we were passed by a brightly painted local dhow, or fishing boat. This one looked as if it was modeled after Noah’s Arc, with the bow and stern both very high and pointed. It would be difficult to tell if this thing were coming or going. The crew were smiley and waving.

An hour later we entered the port of Assab. Being a Thursday, the port was closed for the “weekend.” Port Control did not answer my numerous calls and the city appeared to be a ghost town. We were anchored and got the boat tidied up just in time for happy hour. Over sundowners, Merima and I kept looking at each other saying “I can’t believe we’re in the Red Sea!” I can’t believe we’re in Africa!”

Posted in All Cruising Logs, Indian Ocean Logs, Red Sea Logs | Comments Off on Salalah, Oman to Eritrea (Pirate Alley)

Salalah Stopover

Posted on April 13, 2007 by George Backhus

We arrived at the port of Mina Salalah in the Sultanate of Oman on the morning of 19 March after an easy and uneventful eight day passage from the Maldives. Big thanks to our crew Kurt and Tim for joining us and making it a safe, enjoyable and memorable passage.

Approaching from seaward, the other end of the Asian continent that we had left two months before was like arriving on another planet. By contrast to the tropical landscapes of Southeast Asia, Oman was dry, with steep shoreline cliffs, rugged mountains and barren, sandy plains. We could make out the city of Salalah, with its simple low rise monochromatic buildings. We had no real prior knowledge of Oman, other than it was a convenient stopover, fueling and crew drop-off point for yachts crossing the Indian Ocean heading to the Red Sea. Our expectations would have been easily met, because there were almost none. The plan was to do what we had to do as quickly as possible, and then take on the Gulf of Aden and Red Sea.

Port Control instructed us to anchor in a small basin in the inner part of the Port of Salalah. The Port itself is quite large and rapidly expanding and our charts and pilot books were quite out of date. Shortly after we anchored, we were visited by the Coast Guard and Customs, who came along side in a patrol boat. They wouldn’t acquiesce to my request that they remove their big black boots-so typical of these type of officials-before coming aboard, but offered that I could come barefoot onto their boat. They were polite and efficient and all the paperwork was handled within 15 minutes. There was a bit of confusion about the Immigration officials, as we were told that they too would come out to visit us, but they didn’t show up that day. We all enjoyed a relaxing evening on board, in the calm waters of the port’s visiting yacht basin.

We didn’t wish to be boat bound for another day so the following morning I hitched a ride to the Immigration Department in the Port Authority building and took care of the formalities. Back at the docks, I caught up with a local fellow named Mohammed (it seems like they’re all called Mohammed around here) who was sort of an agent/attendant to the yachties. He could handle all the formalities if necessary, but mostly organized fuel, water and rental cars for the visiting yachties, looked after boats when owners were away, and offered advice on where to go and what to see and do. He was very affable, spoke excellent English, and had a great sense of humor. Mohammed looked and sounded a lot like Eddie Murphy playing an Arabic role. We teed up the delivery a load of diesel fuel for that afternoon and rented a car so we could do a bit of sight seeing and provisioning. Fuel arrived as scheduled that afternoon by tanker truck. We rafted up to another boat tied to the crumbling wharf and took on our fuel with no dramas.

That evening we all went to one of the two places in Salalah where one could get more than a soft drink and a meal-a place called the Oasis Club-adjacent to the port. It was obviously an ex-pat joint, done up like an English Pub, complete with big screen TV’s showing sports, pool tables, red carpeting, dark wood, and four lanes of ten-pin bowling. We enjoyed a few drinks, a good western style meal and a bottle of wine with dinner.

After dinner, looking for a bit of local flavor, we piled into the car and headed to an outdoor restaurant a few miles outside of town. Along the way, we saw lots of local people having what looked like picnic dinners or takeaways out in the middle of the desert. At the restaurant we ordered local teas and Turkish coffees. The tea was very sweet and aromatic, the coffee strong, sweet and flavored with a hint of cardamom. We also each ordered a shisha pipe. A shisha pipe is a huge, ornate hookah style water pipe, perhaps three feet tall. In the bowl is placed a very moist and sticky flavored tobacco. We ordered one each of apple, rose petal, grape and strawberry flavors. Over the bowl, is placed a small piece of tin foil with numerous holes pierced in it. On top of this, the waiter placed hot embers, from a pot he carried around. Drawing on the pipe, you get a mild, cool, moist and very flavorful taste, and the smoke is so mild it feels more like vaporizer steam. We found it to be a totally enjoyable experience and saw many other groups socializing around us over the pipes. Between flavorful puffs, we had to contain our laughter as we heard quiet conversations in Arabic, and the sounds of the air bubbles as people drew from their pipes. We kept saying to each other “can you believe we’re in the Middle East?”

On Wednesday morning we hopped in the car and took off to do a bit of sight seeing. Kurt, our on-board pastor, wanted to check out Job’s tomb, so we headed north into the mountains to a town called Ghadu. Winding along the mountain road, there were many farms or ranches on what seemed to be almost barren land, with not much growing besides a few weeds and frankincense bushes. The bits of vegetation that were clinging to this dry and rocky land were the targets of the many camels grazing about, and we even saw one baby, still wet from birth, struggling to stand up on wobbly legs.

Tim and Kurt in the mountains

A newborn camel

We found Job’s tomb, and wondered what this parched land must have been like in his day. We visited his burial site, inside a very small mosque, covered in blankets, with an attendant on hand to guide the visitors and keep the frankincense burning.

Job’s tomb

We headed to downtown Salalah to a recommended restaurant for lunch. It was interesting that the roads were all very nice, wide and modern. If we didn’t know we were in Oman, we might have thought we were in Palm Springs. We enjoyed an excellent lunch at a Lebanese restaurant in town. The price was quite reasonable, and the staff was very warm and friendly.

Cruising around town a bit after lunch we came upon a bird sanctuary near the sea, replete with pink flamingoes standing in the shallow estuary. We also found the local bazaar and did a bit of shopping. The last shop was the Lulu grocery store, which was quite modern and stocked with a lot of western foods. The only way that a visitor would know that they were in Oman was that all the female shoppers were dressed from head to toe in black, with faces covered excepting a slit for their eyes. It felt a bit like Halloween as we strolled through the aisles.

We were a bit tired from the day, but went up to the Oasis Club to meet with a few other cruisers to discuss strategies for transiting “Pirate Alley” in the Gulf of Aden. While I was meeting, Merima and Tim went into the bowling alley for a game or two. Merima got a kick out of the local men, who had to hitch up their long robes so that they could manage the wide stride necessary to deliver the bowling ball. The local men, unaccustomed, if not distracted by having a woman bowling along side them, were surprised to see Merima scoring a fair few strikes and spares.

We had a nice dinner afterwards on the terrace overlooking the sea. After dinner we went back to Moonshadow and had a blowout going away party for Kurt, who was flying out the next day.

We dropped Kurt at the airport the next morning and bit him farewell. We carried on driving east to visit the coastal villages of Taqah and Mirbat. Along the road was some spectacular desert scenery, mountains in the distance, Bedouin camps, and camels. Lots of camels.

We had a drive through look at Taqah with its interesting buildings, old and new, and carried on to Mirbat where we stopped in at a local Indian restaurant for lunch. The place was a basic as they come, but the food was excellent, cheap and they even had utensils for us westerners.

We wandered around the old port in Mirbat, and explored the15th century ruins in the old town. Many of the buildings were fairly intact and looked as if they had been inhabited within the last five or ten years. After our exploring, we wandered down to the water where there was a lovely little café. On a stone terrace overlooking the water, we relaxed and enjoyed a Turkish coffee.

In Mirbat

That night it actually began to rain. We stayed on board and quiet meal in.

On Friday, we drove west towards Yemen. After a stint through the desert, we came back along the sea shore for awhile. The road then proceeded through an incredibly rugged mountain range. The engineering of this road along the sheer mountain faces was absolutely remarkable. The only fault to the road was that it did not have a bridge over the creek bed at the bottom of a canyon. I suppose it’s not much of an issue if it only rains four days a year. The problem is that it had rained that day, so the roadbed was now a couple of feet under the river bed. Trucks and SUV’s were able to pass OK, but cars were stuck on one side or the other until the water would recede.

After watching some cars and trucks ford the river for about a half hour, we decided not to take any unnecessary risks with our rental car and headed back to Mugsayl Bay Beach where we checked out some interesting caves and blow holes along the coast. After, we had lunch at a beach café. It was interesting to watch local families playing on the beach and swimming in the surf, the women who were swimming were still wearing black clothes from head to toe. They obviously have not heard of the burquini!

At the border of Oman and Yemen

Mugsayl Bay

We returned to the out-of-town restaurant for an excellent Lebanese dinner, and a round of shisha pipes with coffee for desert. Since Friday was the holiday evening, lots of groups were out having a family meal. Since most of the women cannot show their faces in public, the restaurant provides either private rooms or movable partitions so that each group can have privacy if they wish.

It was Tim’s last day, so we headed into town and did some provisioning, ran some errands, enjoyed a last great Lebanese lunch at our favorite restaurant in town and dropped him at the airport. I checked out of Oman that afternoon, returned the rental car and we were ready for a Sunday morning departure from Salalah.

I don’t know if we were anxious about the Gulf of Aden, or if we really enjoyed Salalah, or both, but we would have liked to hang out there for another week, perhaps doing some sight seeing further afield. The people were very friendly and helpful, the scenery was beautiful, the food was excellent, the culture fascinating, the provisioning very good, and we were made to feel comfortable even though we were very much outsiders. We felt we were on the trailing edge of the fleet moving into and up the Red Sea, so felt it was time to get moving again. We departed Salalah at first light the next morning and sailed west into the Gulf of Aden.

Posted in All Cruising Logs, Indian Ocean Logs, Inland Travel Logs | Comments Off on Salalah Stopover

A Month in the Maldives

Posted on April 12, 2007 by George Backhus

The Maldives is a country made up of 26 coral atolls strung across the Indian Ocean to the southwest of India in a row extending north and south for about 450 nautical miles. Most of the reefs in the atolls do not reach the surface, but there are still nearly 1200 islands, of which about 200 are inhabited. In fact the English word atoll takes its origin from the Maldivian language, Dhivehi. While the population of the Maldives is about 300,000 (supposedly 100% Sunni Muslim), it receives about 600,000 tourists annually. Most of them never see the capital city of Male because they are whisked directly from the airport on an adjacent island by speedboat or sea plane to one of the 80-odd posh island resorts where they spend gobs of money to chill out on their vacation or honeymoon. For us, the Maldives offered a nice halfway stopover point where we could change crew, fuel, provision and rest a bit while were making the 3500 mile trip across the Indian Ocean from Southeast Asia to the Red Sea.

From a few miles out to sea, we assumed that making landfall at the island of Male was much like approaching any other tropical island. Before the land itself appears over the horizon, one can see the tops of palm trees and perhaps towers or taller buildings. As we made landfall and the features came into view, we could see that the spikes on the horizon were not palm trees at all, that in fact Male was completely covered with mid-rise buildings. We weren’t exactly expecting to see a miniature Singapore situated in the middle of the Indian Ocean, but weren’t overly surprised considering the two square kilometer coral island is home to about 100,000 Maldivians.

Approaching Male from seaward.

Arriving in the late afternoon from our 1200-mile, 7-1/2-day passage from the Andaman Islands, we were happy to have a few sundowners and a quiet evening at anchor before grinding through the check-in formalities. Anchoring itself was a challenge, as most of the area specifically designated for arriving vessels was between 25 and 40 meters deep. Male seems rather lacking in facilities to handle the constant flow of heavy shipping traffic, let alone a few dozen pleasure yachts that come passing through each season Local boats had hooked on the few shallow bits in the protection of the island of Male. We finally got settled in a 25 meter patch, but spent the evening rocking and rolling in the refracted trade-wind swell exacerbated by the swift currents running through the narrow channels between the islands and reefs. We contacted our agent Abdullah, who indicated he would tee up all the appropriate officials so that we could check in the next morning at 0930.

0930 came and went without word from Abdullah and we were unable to reach him by cell phone or VHF. When we finally made contact late in the morning, he informed us that the time had been pushed back to 1230 hours. At least we had the morning to tidy up “Moonshadow” from the passage. 1230 came and went with no activity. Finally at about 1530, we were instructed to come into the small commercial harbor and med-moor to the bulkhead. Abdullah, along with all the officials, were there to catch our stern lines. Customs, Immigration and the Coast Guard all came on board. They were all professional, efficient and polite young men who spoke English reasonably well. Within a half an hour all the paperwork was filled out, chopped and the formalities were completed. We were granted one month visas and received a permit to cruise within the North and South Male Atolls. If we had wanted to visit any of the other atolls, we would have to apply for a special permit and cough up another US $400. There seemed to be enough to keep us busy in these two atolls that we didn’t opt to go afar.

We were all keen to get off the boat and have a meal on shore, so on recommendation of Abdullah, we headed down the waterfront a ways to the Nasandhura Palace Hotel for dinner at their outdoor courtyard restaurant. The food was good, but since the Maldives is a strict Sunni Muslim society, the strongest thing we could get to drink was non-alcoholic beer. Served icy cold, it was tasty and refreshing, and put out the fires of the spicy curry dishes we’d ordered.

After dinner we took a stroll home along the lively waterfront of Male, passing the local fish and fresh produce markets. There was quite an assortment of fish on offer, but tuna seemed to be the main course. It is apparently the staple protein in the Maldivian diet, which comes as no surprise considering the seas surrounding the Maldives produce some HUGE specimens. We saw a few nice fish laid out that were more than a meter long and must have weighed well over a hundred pounds each. Moving one around was a two-man job.

A delivery of tuna to the local fish market.

The following day we took a stroll around the narrow and winding streets of town to stretch our legs a bit and check things out. Friday is the Muslim “weekend” holiday so most businesses, banks and government offices were closed. Quite foreign to us westerners, everything is open for business from Saturday through Thursday. Imagine popping into your bank to do business on a Sunday morning. Late in the afternoon, some of the smaller family owned businesses opened for a few hours. Five times a day, starting from very early in the morning, the city echoes the call to prayer through amplified speakers in the minarets. Almost everyone would dash off to their mosque, wash themselves in the long sinks attached to an outside wall, and commence prayer. Shops close, the city becomes almost quiet, and if there isn’t enough room in one’s mosque of choice, people lay down their prayer rug right on the street or sidewalk, and pray facing Mecca, even if they are facing straight into a wall.

Most of the men we saw wore casual western style dress, but the women generally were fully covered from the neck down and wearing head scarves. We were told that the dress code used to be more relaxed and this practice only started after 9-11, perhaps as a show of Muslim solidarity.

The style of architecture in Male is a blend of east and west. The basic simplicity of the Middle East is ever present, but there is the occasional western flair. The city is reasonably tidy, but since nearly every square foot is built up, it is lacking much greenery or open space. The roads are so narrow in places that one has to scrunch up against the wall to let cars pass without getting clipped by a rear view mirror. Many home fronts are not much more than a door through an outside wall or a gate leading to a small private courtyard. Homes appeared to be small and crowded, and many doorways opened straight into the living room. We heard that in many cases, people sleep in shifts as there are not enough beds for everyone. Overall, the standard of living in Male appeared to be relatively high compared to its neighboring countries, due mostly to the Maldives’ thriving tourism industry.

We were quite pleasantly surprised by the variety of goods on offer in town. A couple of grocery stores had many “ex-pat” items available. Prices for most fresh items were quite high as most everything had to be flown in from Australia or Asia. A cantaloupe cost US $10, a head of lettuce was priced at $8 and an avocado was $5. There were a couple of reasonably well stocked chandleries, some decent hardware stores and a couple of fishing gear shops where we were able to get a few necessary supplies. We even found a store specializing in reverse osmosis water makers and were able to purchase some second-hand spare parts for our 20 year old Sea Recovery unit. The only thing seemingly not available in Male was adult beverages. There were many non-alcoholic beers and sparkling wines on offer, and tonic water but no gin. How does one drink tonic water without gin?? If you wanted a drink, you had to take a ferry to the airport hotel, on another island, where there was a western style restaurant and bar.

Male has plenty of restaurants and cafes, offering all sorts of food such as Chinese, Italian, Indian and Thai. We enjoyed some excellent meals out and the prices were very reasonable. If the Maldivians don’t partake in drinks, they make up for it with ice cream. Cafes specializing in all sorts of delectable desserts were popular, and it wasn’t uncommon to see the locals devouring more than one fancy ice cream creation after a meal.

Most everyone we came in contact was friendly, extremely helpful and spoke English well. If we inquired about something, we were often personally led to the shop where it could be found, or even driven if it was further away. If someone wasn’t able to answer our question, they would usually pull out their cell phone and make a call to get the information for us.

Being tied up in Male’s commercial harbor was interesting. Outside the harbor there was a constant parade of ships, ferries, yachts, fishing boats, small local boats called dhoanis, and live aboard tourist charter boats called “safari boats.” Inside the harbor, very primitive wooden cargo boats, looking to be vintage late 19th or early 20th century, laden with bananas, limes, cabbage and other produce from India and Sri Lanka, came along side and were offloaded with cranes, nets and lots and lots of strong hands and backs. A couple of days in the noisy and dirty port were enough so we headed out to the popular visiting boat anchorage of Hulhumale.

Hulhumale is a lagoon that is alongside what was once a large coral patch that has been reclaimed for the expansion of the city of Male. While very little has been built on the new island, there is regular ferry service to Male, about 20 minutes away, for 5 Rufia or about US 40 cents each way. In addition to a few apartment blocks and a very large and ornate mosque, Hulhumale Island has a few small grocery stores, cafes and an Internet café. We also were able to get petrol for the dinghy at a “service station” which was a couple of tanker trucks fitted with metered pumps parked under an awning.

From there we headed northwards on the east side North Male Atoll to check out a couple of dive sites. After a couple of attempts to anchor on or near some recommended dive sites, we gave up. Lacking local knowledge, we had difficulty anchoring in the deep passes awash in wicked currents, in some cases more than 4 knots. Diving was akin to swimming inside a huge washing machine. Graham and Thane were quite keen so they contacted a local dive boat and organized a trip to some good sites. This worked out much better and they got in a couple of excellent dives. Merima I planned to hang out for awhile so we thought we’d get it sussed so we could dive on our own.

We enjoyed a week or so of island hopping through the atoll, anchoring off of gorgeous US $1,000 a night resorts, snorkeling in the clear blue waters, and then returned to Hulhumale to drop Thane at the airport. We then headed out for a few more days of island hopping and did manage to find one very nice dive site at a place called Baros Thila where we could hop over to the drop point by dinghy and dive on a very nice wall.

A local sailboat off one of the many Maldivian luxury resorts.

A thila is a patch of coral reef inside the atoll a couple of meters below the surface. In the case of Baros Thila, there was a long stretch where the reef made a near vertical drop from a few meters below the surface to more than 20 meters to a sand bottom. There were some interesting caves and overhangs, nice soft corals and plenty of large fish lurking on the eastern most point of the thila waiting for their daily meal to arrive in the current. I’m not sure if it was the time of day, or the moon’s cycle, but the current there was negligible on three different dives. We seemed to have cracked the code, at least at this spot.

We hopped across North Male Atoll back to Hulhumale and dropped Graham at the airport. It’s always great to have our friends with us, particularly on long passages, but after six weeks with guests on board, Merima and I were ready to shift gears and enjoy some quiet island time out on our own. We hopped the ferry into Male to pick up a few fresh provisions, enjoy a meal out and a stroll on dry land, and then headed off to see a bit of South Male Atoll.

Our first stop was a well protected anchorage off of Velassaru Island where we chilled out for a few days. We had heard that many of the resorts weren’t too friendly to yachties, but when we went ashore there at the Laguna Maldives Resort, they welcomed us in for dinner. We chose to dine at “The Grill” out on the beach and enjoyed a candle lit dinner of local fish right on a sugar sand beach with the stars reflecting off the calm lagoon. Merima enjoyed a night off from galley duty and I didn’t miss doing dishes!

We had heard from some cruising friends that there was some good and easy diving on the other side of the atoll, so we headed east to a large and shallow anchorage off of Eboodhoofinolhu Island. The shallow depth and white sand bottom gave the massive lagoon the color of a swimming pool.

Anchored in a calm lagoon.

The current was strong in Embudhoo Kandu, the channel to the south of our anchorage, so we decided to dive it with mask and snorkel, and drift along with the current, dinghy painter in hand. This worked out pretty well and we saw some very large fish and manta rays as the sea bottom went by at 2-3 knots.

We enjoyed a couple of days in this anchorage off of Eboodhoofinolhu Island, and went in for a nice dinner at the Taj Exotica resort there. This resort was rated as one of the top five in the Maldives. While the food was nicely prepared and the staff very friendly, the timing was all off so we didn’t feel the service deserved this rating. After dinner we shifted to the bar for a nightcap, where we were greeted, seated and then ignored, so we had the nightcap on board “Moonshadow.”

With just a week left before we planned to sail for the Middle East, we headed back to Hulhumale to get fuel and provision for the trip the rest of the way across the Indian Ocean to Salalah in Oman.

Fuel was brought to us by a small barge that came along side us in Hulhumale. It was clean and very easy. We provisioned up in Male, finding almost everything we needed, and even managed to organize a bootleg shipment of beer/wine and spirits from one of the wholesalers who sell to the resorts, so we were able to top up the fun locker.

We spent just over a month in the Maldives due to crew/guest schedules. It was probably a week or so more than we would have liked as there is not much for the cruiser to see or do from a leisure standpoint, other than anchor off of resorts and dive. As we mentioned, the diving is reasonably good but can be a challenge on your own due to the depths and currents so if you wish to dive on the best sites it is better accomplished by hiring a local dive boat. Visiting a resort for a night out is a very expensive proposition. On the other hand, the weather was stuck on perfect for the time we were there. We had negligible rain, and generally light breezes. As a cruising destination, I think most might find the Maldives a bit lacking, but as a mid-Indian Ocean stopover point, it is about as good as it gets.

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How do you avoid drift nets?

Posted on April 5, 2007 by George Backhus

Sailing across the Indian Ocean was the first time we’d come across large drift net fishing. I suppose that the best way to deal with them is to give them a wide berth, assuming you know where they are located.

The yachties ahead of us reported known positions of drift nets on the daily cruiser’s net, and we made notes of these positions. That said, they were usually not there by the time we arrived a few days later. Some drift nets were reportedly marked by buoys, some lighted and some not. The best one could hope for was to see them on a moonlit night. Some fishermen remained close to their nets and advised oncoming traffic by radio of how to avoid their nets. We had this happen one night, but the fisherman could not speak enough English to tell us how far out his nets were laid. We were told by some yachties that the nets were usually set to windward of the fishing boats, but we could not confirm this was the norm.

We’ve never had the misfortune of becoming entangled in nets. I’ve picked up the odd fish trap or lobster pot over the years, but managed to cut them free without too much drama. I can’t imagine trying to cut free of a net in the middle of the ocean, in the middle of the night, in a seaway. We did hear a horror story about a yacht lying in Salalah that had become entangled in a net. The weather was heavy, and for whatever reason they were unable to strike their sails. They ended up with broken sails, broken gear and apparently some other damage to the yacht and had to return to port for repairs.

I suppose we would have to assess the situation if we were to become entangled. If we could safely do so, we’d strike the sails and I’d get in the water and try to cut us free. If we could not, we’d have to heave to or drag the net until conditions allowed. Hopefully there would be enough sea room. Some boats have line cutters installed on their prop shafts. I don’t know if this would allow them to mow through a drift net, but it is probably helpful if one runs into a fish trap, lobster pot or a bit of stray line floating on the surface.

At the end of the day, the only defense is constant vigilance and a dose of good luck.

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