Cape Town for Christmas

 

The top of Signal Hill with Table Mountain in the background

 'Cape Town for Christmas' has been our mantra--repeated amongst almost every cruiser headed this way--for so long that it was hard to believe that we were actually here (in time for Christmas, with a day to spare).

Getting excited about the one harbor seal in Knysna seems so quaint now.

Like many hard-won goals, the journey was just as significant as the end-result. Actually, there was hardly any evidence of Christmas at all here in Cape Town besides a smallish tree and the odd decoration. Even Muslim Malaysia was more 'Christmas-y', with loads of decorations and Christmas music.

View from Signal Hill

There was holiday socializing aplenty: we had eggnog and watched How the Grinch Stole Christmas on Perry with Sonrisa's projector, enjoyed a happy-hour get together with all the other cruisers with oysters provided by Ohana and Dafne 2, and Sonrisa hosted an upscale Christmas morning dock breakfast. Unfortunately, on Christmas morning itself, Matt was laid out with a stomach bug but we had a pleasant, low-key day.

The cannon fires every day at noon.  Yes, it's loud.

The journey to Cape Town from Knysna marked the end of our stint in the Indian Ocean. We have officially ranked the Indian Ocean as the third favorite of the three Oceans we have sailed in due to its usual combination of large and confused seas (we might even rank it 4th, just on principle alone). Ironically, the worst part of our leg from Knysna to Cape Town was after we had crossed the invisible line into the Atlantic Ocean. With Cape Town almost in view and most of the passage complete, I was starting to feel pretty good about having 'completed' our journey past the southernmost point of the continent. The wind had filled in nicely and we were sailing along at a nice clip after having been so light that we had to motor for a good part of the prior evening.

Skate park with Table Mountain as a backdrop

But as we passed Hout Bay, the winds started to pick up and kept getting progressively stronger. When Table Mountain came into view, we could see the 'tablecloth' (the sheath of clouds that sometimes blankets the mountain) being pushed down its side by katabatic winds. After breaking our mainsail batten recently too many times with strong and unpredictable winds, we decided to douse the already triple-reefed sails and motor in. 

For the next hour, Perry was tossed around by confused seas surpassing our trip from Curacao to Cartagena. There were sustained winds of 40 knots with at least one 57-knot gust. We broke dishes that have lived unscathed on Perry for nine years because of the weird way the waves jerked the boat around. Matt and Conrad were soaked by waves as they stood in the cockpit, which is unusual on Perry. This last battering by the local ocean was mostly just uncomfortable rather than dangerous but we were relieved as we entered the calm waters of the port just before sundown.

Mark and Conrad finally together again with these guys

 

As it turned out, we had bad timing, bad luck, or both. Boats that came into Cape Town earlier in the afternoon and the following morning had completely calm seas. On our approach, we were lucky enough to see a penguin and breaching humpbacks in the midst of dozens of seals and dolphins.

We have been enjoying the V&A Waterfront, which has the feel of Disneyland without the rides (though there is the giant, slow-moving Ferris wheel). Shopping isn't our thing, but it is a luxury to be within walking distance of a grocery store that has pretty much everything. We have also taken advantage of a few of the many restaurants, rationalizing that we went so long without eating out that we can afford to splurge a bit. This is the kind of thinking of course that will drain our bank account and give me ulcers. But the delicacies beckon.

We are ticking boat projects from our list and at some point will rent a car to play tourist. This is wine country (and our dollar goes a long way in South Africa). Wine tasting is almost a sport here and the vineyards resemble Napa Valley. We also want to go to the top of Table Mountain,   see penguins (the last ones we saw--besides the guy en route--were in the Galapagos), and a hundred other things. One thing we are not planning to do is swim in the 56-degree Fahrenheit water.*

*Matt and Conrad considered doing a Great White shark cage dive, but killer whales have mostly chased them away from the area.

Whether to weather the weather

Caracal (Kruger National Park)

Richards Bay was a joy to us after our passage from Tanzania. We reveled in the abundance of fresh produce, good wine, quality beef, and the friendly people. Zululand Yacht Club, besides being possibly the most affordable marina anywhere, went to great lengths to accommodate the influx of cruising yachts and even presented each International boat with a bottle of champagne. With all the cruisers around, there were plenty of opportunities to socialize (braai, anyone?). We even had enough Americans (and honorary Americans) and turkey for a Pilgrim-sized Thanksgiving dinner.

Elephants frolicking and bickering (Kruger National Park)

It was a good thing that Richards Bay was a pleasant place to be, as it became a bit of a bottleneck for cruisers headed to Cape Town. Everyone was waiting for a decent weather window which never seemed to materialize. The run from Richards Bay to Cape Town is one of the most challenging routes in the world because of the Agulhas current (a SW running current that can reach 6 knots), unpredictable weather patterns, and a lack of good anchorages to stop along the way. The combination of the current and gales from the wrong direction can be dangerous. 

Fortunately, with good weather forecasting available and lots of wisdom (such as the locally known and colorful Des Cason who volunteers to advise cruisers like us), you have plenty of information available to let you know when the going is good. But no amount of analysis is going to change bad weather to good, so we (and lots of our cruising friends) waited. And waited.

Our luck at spotting leopards continues

 

While we were waiting, we decided to take a short road trip to Kruger National Park and Blyde River Canyon. We saw a lot of animals during our economy car self-drive through Kruger.  Even though there weren't  anywhere near the numbers of animals compared to Tanzania, there were several that we hadn't seen before. A highlight was the dung beetles, which are hilarious in real life (especially 3 beetles fighting over one dung ball). We stayed at a campsite in the park with a resident warthog and hyenas howling at night. We also experienced a half-hour thunderstorm where we were pelted with near golf-ball sized hail that we were certain would dent up the rental car (luckily it didn't).

Thunderbird (ground horn-bill)

Saddle-billed stork

 

Why did the hyena cross the road? Maybe he didn't...

Love is in the air (the smaller one is the male)

Greater kudu

 

Blyde RiverCanyon was like a mini-Grand Canyon. We spent a day taking in its highlights and stretching our driving-atrophied limbs before heading back to Perry. As luck would have it, a weather window opened up for the day after we returned to Richards Bay. So we set about checking out of Richards Bay (which involved visiting four government offices and an impressive amount of paperwork, including a sketch of our boat and a diagram of the route we were going to take), getting diesel, shopping for groceries, and cooking a few passage meals.

Bourke's Luck 'potholes'

The Three Rondavels viewpoint

After buying some takeaway chicken dinners from the Zululand Yacht Club, we set off shortly after 5 p.m. for the 350-nautical mile journey to East London. To make it to East London before the next weather front, we had to leave right after the southerly winds had slowed, not allowing the kicked up seas time to subside. Our passage from Richards Bay to East London was fairly miserable. 

Atypically, both Matt and I got sick the first night (it may be a while before Matt will eat Peri Peri chicken again). Other than a brief period of downwind sailing, we had confused and large seas the whole passage. It was a relief to make it to East London. Unfortunately, we had to wait outside the harbor for an hour while tug boats navigated a big tanker out of the harbor. That made us two for two in having to wait for boat traffic before port control would clear us in (we had previously waited outside Richards Bay for two hours when we arrived to South Africa). Erie Spirit now refuses to follow us into a port because of our bad luck in this department.

East London is a small rural area and the Buffalo River Yacht Club was very welcoming and friendly. We got mixed messages from locals about whether or not it was safe to walk from the yacht club to the other side of the river. However, at least one restaurant told us they stopped delivering pizzas to the club because their drivers kept getting mugged. We lived in Chicago for years without ever being mugged, so while all the talk of mugging since we have gotten to South Africa is a bit unsettling, it's hard to gauge how worried we should actually be since half of the warnings seem to come from taxi drivers with a vested interest in keeping us from walking!

From East London, we headed to Knysna (pronounced 'nice-nah'), considered one of the most scenic places in South Africa. This passage was better. Considering the constant chilly drizzle and having to run the motor for half a day, you can see how low the bar is for a good passage these days. We had considered skipping Knysna because the narrow entrance can be tricky in the wrong conditions. Below is a satellite image of the entrance to the harbor on a typical day. Generally, you want to avoid the white foamy areas so you don't want to do it when it's all white foamy areas.

 

We took the advice of Mike at the Knysna Yacht Club and timed our journey to arrive about an hour before high tide to avoid breaking waves and adverse current. Sonrisa and then Erie Spirit led the way into the the forbidding fog. Our timing was right and we all made it through unscathed.

Fog at the headlands ('The Heads'). Seeing where you're going is overrated.

Over the hump

Kynsna is a beautiful coastal town that reminds us a bit of Cape Cod. It is popular with retirees because of the reasonable cost of living and bounty of natural beauty. Everyone walks and (almost) nobody gets mugged. Between the scenery, oysters and sushi, it will be hard to work up the motivation to leave.

The Heads from inside on a calm day

Mussels at the East Head Cafe

Andrew and Matt enjoying craft beer at the Knysna Distillery