Saturday, October 12, 2013

East London to Ponta Do Oura and back


24 Sep. 13

We are still here and still tied to the jetty waiting for next week so we can catch the bus back up to Durban to fetch our car and go off to the wedding in Mozambique. After the wedding we hope to sell the car and catch another bus back here. I don’t like leaving Yrumoar alone for too long, she misses me I think, so we don’t have much time to sell the car and hope it sells quickly. Sharlene and Kenny have invited us over on the weekend to celebrate their anniversary and today is national braai day in SA so we will row over to the yacht club and see if anything interesting develops.


Braaing/barbequeing on Yrumoar
A cruising yacht came into the harbour yesterday morning and wanted to raft up to us. I had to tell them they couldn’t since the owner of the jetty told us not to allow anyone to raft onto us or tie onto his jetty. Later I apologised to them when we went across to have a shower and they invited us aboard for coffee. On board the two Australians had hijacked a South African couple in Durban to sail down this treacherous coastline with them. They had suffered a knockdown and all their plates had broken as they had flown out of the locker onto the cabin floor. One of the guys told me that South African sailors have to have balls of steel to sail in this ocean. I just laughed at his comment thinking silently to myself how my balls turn into raisins and try hide inside my body whenever we go out. 

25 Sep. 13

So the Ozzies left sometime last night and we are still here. I wonder how often this is going to happen to us, people coming and going and more people coming and going while we don’t seem to move. Perhaps it will change one day and we will become the movers while others wait.

 Today I have to do the washing again since Lola has some or other “allergy” to washing powder. Quite convenient I think. Anyway I don’t understand how we wear so much clothing considering we don’t go anywhere. So I decided to tell the crew to start getting used to their naked bodies since I am going to toss all their clothes overboard when we cross the Atlantic.

I don’t know if I mentioned this before but doing the washing is quite a job. I have to get off the boat with a jerry can and fill it with water. Next I empty the jerry can into two buckets. I use one bucket to wash and the other to rinse and soften the clothes. I am sure everyone had to do it like this about a hundred years ago before the advent of the automatic washing machine so why am I whining about it. It is after all just one of those little perks that comes with the lifestyle we have chosen.

I don’t mean to sound like a disgruntled ex-housewife but after I did the washing this morning I counted the t-shirts on the line and noticed that Rauen and Lola are the washing culprits. Lola had numerous items on the line and took about half the space, but then she is a girl so it’s understandable. I won’t mention the underwear since us boys all had about the same and Lola more than doubled that but it’s the t -hirts that got me going. Kyle and I had two each, but Rauen had four. I know it doesn’t sound like a lot but I did washing about a week ago and everything was clean. Anyone who knows Rauen will know that to even find him in a t-shirt is impossible. He walks around topless all the time and I can’t remember the last time I saw him in a t-shirt. So my question, or gripe is, when does he wear all these t-shirts? It must be while he is asleep because I asked him and even he couldn’t explain. As for Kyle and myself. I know you are all thinking 2 t-shirts in a week, that’s disgusting! But anyone who lives on a boat will tell you it’s how it is. I like to call it “eco” dressing.    
 

8 Oct. 13

Leaving Yrumoar is not like leaving your house when you go on holiday. Well I suppose it is similar except your house won’t disappear out into the ocean if you didn’t tie it down properly, or sink if a huge log comes floating down the river and punches a hole in your hull. A disaster could still happen to your house while you are away but is usually the last thing on your mind while you sit on a beach somewhere sipping cocktails through a straw. I mean the chances of the ground suddenly opening up and swallowing your house or a river spontaneously developing in the neighbour’s yard then flooding over your walls are rather slim. So generally when you go away on holiday you lock the doors switch on your alarm and leave without a second thought. Simple isn’t it?
However when you are leaving your floating home tied to a jetty in a bouncy harbour that tests the strength of your ropes during every tide change, things are a bit different.

We had to leave Yrumoar to fend for herself while we headed off to Tammy’s wedding in Ponta Do Oura, Mozambique. The morning we left I had to close all the sea cocks and prepare the toilets by rinsing them a few times with fresh water and vinegar so the smell would not kill us when we came back. Marine toilets stink all the time, but if left for a while and I mean a short while like 24 hours without flushing, they really stink. Something like the inside of a morgue without refrigeration to keep the bodies “fresh”.

The toilets are only one thing on a list that has to be done before leaving. Checking and rechecking ropes, switching off water pumps, testing bilge pumps, turning off the gas, checking the dingy, pumping the fenders etc etc, and even after everything is done things can still go wrong. Anyway I did what I could and we left her alone while we caught a taxi to the bus stop in town. Typically we arrived an hour early and the bus was an hour late so we had a burger at the roadhouse next to the bus stop to kill some time. Eventually the bus arrived and we found our seats on the top floor at the back and sat down. Both Lola and I are nervous passengers and I thought the back of the bus would be the safest place if the bus driver decided to fall asleep and crash into a tree.
The bus took off down the road and we tried to make ourselves comfortable. This wasn’t easy as there is very little leg room between the rows of seats and we suddenly realised what a sardine in a can must feel like. Fortunately for the sardine it is dead when it is shoved into the can.

 
 
It was a long bus ride and the seat soon became uncomfortable. Adding to our discomfort was the fact that we couldn’t smoke on the bus and our addiction made us irritable. At one point I tried to pour some Coke into a glass for Rauen as the bus went over a bump and spilled it onto my shorts. This lead to a small temper tantrum by me and a reprimand by Lola followed by an uncomfortable silence in the back seats of the bus. After four hours the intercom system went squeeeeee and a barely audible voice announced our arrival in Mthatha. The bus finally made a pit stop and we could get off to stretch our legs. Oh, and of course satisfy our addiction.
I think my cigarette was alight before my feet touched the ground but I can’t really remember the moments before I lit up to clearly. When my mind finally cleared a few minutes later we went into the shop to buy a pie and a snack for the rest of the trip. The shop was quite busy but we found what we wanted and the queue moved quickly and a few minutes later we left the shop. As we walked out the door we saw our bus leaving and had to run after it. Someone on the bus noticed us running waving our arms in the air and told the driver to stop. As we got on and walked towards our seats at the back I could hear the comments as each person on the bus had to add their 5 cents worth. “ah nearly got left behind hey” giggle giggle. “almost missed the bus hey” giggle giggle. I didn’t find it quite as funny as they did but I think it was due to nicotine withdrawal.

Our next pit stop was in Kokstad. It was already nine in the evening and we had been on the bus since midday so just wanted to get off already. This time however we stood right next to the bus so it couldn’t leave without us. Rauen was asleep at the time so we left him on the bus. As we stood there the bus started up again and this guy standing next to us whose job title I don’t know but he had walked around offering coffee and tea on the bus so I assumed he is like a bus steward or something told us it was going into town to drop off and would be back in a few minutes so we could just wait. We did that but stood panicking about Rauen as we watched the bus drive off. What if he woke up and couldn’t find us? Anyway it happened just the way we panicked and I could see Rauen running around in the bus as it drove down the road. His phone had died so he couldn’t call us but managed to find a lady on the bus that gave him her phone to use and he called to tell us the bus would be back so we mustn’t panic. Still not sure who panicked the most.
It was one in the morning when we finally arrived in Durban and called a taxi to take us to Kim’s house. The taxi cost R160 for the 12 km and we watched the meter all the way as it counted up rapidly. More than once we considered telling the driver to stop and we would just walk the rest of the way. Fascinating how a bus ride from East London, around 700km costs R350 but a taxi ride from Durban to Durban a short trip of 12km costs R160.

11 Oct. 13

We stayed over a Kim’s house and she took us to the Bluff Yacht Club to fetch our car in the morning. We had left it there under a tree and wondered if it would start after standing for more than a month. It started first time and we went back to Kim’s with a few stops along the way to get some stuff for her son, Devon, whose school project was due the next morning. I helped Devon with his project and by 10 in the evening we all went to bed. The next morning we left at sunrise and headed towards Richards Bay. We decided to buy a new camera and made a few stops along the way but couldn’t find what we wanted in our price range. After walking Gateway mall flat we left empty handed thinking we would try again in Richards Bay.

 Dylan was still at work so we had some time to kill and stopped at the mall in Richards Bay where we did eventually find our new camera at a price we were prepared to pay. We saved about R1500 on our purchase so were happy we had decided to shop around.

It was really good to see our old friends again and we spent a pleasant evening at their house. The next morning after a good breakfast we left for the border at Kosi Bay. Dylan gave us directions and told us it was a three hour journey so we had timed our departure to arrive at 2 in the afternoon. The trip took a bit longer due to extensive road works with many stop go’s and we realised we would miss our arrival time by over an hour so tried to call the guy who was supposed to collect us at the border. Unfortunately Vodacom had other ideas and our cell phone signal only lasted long enough for his phone to ring once. We were about 10 minutes from the border before the signal came back and had a slightly irate Mike meet us there after about 20 minutes. He told us the Taxi had already left for Ponto and we would have to wait for it to come back. Living on Yrumoar has made us extremely relaxed so we didn’t mind at all and I think he was way more concerned than us as I watched him trying to make phone call after phone call to find out the progress of the taxi.

The taxi eventually arrived and it reminded me of the taxis in SA, small minibus terrorists intend on killing everyone on the roads. My suspicion was confirmed when we came flying over a sand dune and stopped directly behind a four by four going in reverse. The inevitable happened as the four by four kept reversing and we went forward only stopping once we had collided with his tow bar. In typical Mozambique style both vehicles drove off after the accident without even blinking an eye or swearing at each other. The drivers didn’t even get out to access the damage.


 
For the rest of the journey we bounced up and down and held on for dear life as he sped his way across the dunes avoiding the occasional four by four going in the opposite direction on the same path as us. It’s only about 15km but it was the most treacherous and bouncy ride I have ever experienced in my life. At one point I tried to take a photo of Kyle as he had wedged himself in the back seat with his arms holding onto the roof but the taxi bounced so much my photo couldn’t catch the moment very well.

 
 

Tammy and Jason had a very romantic wedding service on the beach and we had a great weekend with very little sleep. They stayed some distance from us and we had to cross the sand dunes a few times to get to their place and back. Fortunately it wasn’t in the taxi as they arranged someone to collect and bring us back so the trips were a lot more comfortable.

 



Sunday arrived all to quickly though and we had to say our goodbye’s. It’s never easy parting with friends and this time Lola broke down in tears as we headed back to our tent in a friend’s Subaru. I just left her to cry and didn’t say anything to make her feel better. I thought she needed the tears.

Monday morning we left Ponta Do Oura in the taxi and had another breakneck journey back to the border. This time the taxi got stuck in the thick soft beach sand and had to be towed by a passing truck. We stayed overnight with Dylan and Niccolette before leaving on Tuesday morning to Durban to stay at Kim and Darren.

We left Durban at 5 on Thursday morning and arrived back at Yrumoar in the late afternoon. She was happily waiting for us and it felt great to be back home.

Along the way I noticed something and asked Lola and the kids if they had the same experience. When the bus arrived in Durban it didn’t feel like home even though we had spent almost a year there. The same thing happened inRichards bay and again in East London. I thought back to the last time we had been up to Joey’s and realised we didn’t feel at home there either. It made me wonder where, if anywhere, we would feel at home again.

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