The wind howls all night and the rain continues to pour down. Confused though by how early it gets light, I am awake at 5 am and want a cup of tea. I have to wriggle a lot before Mike eventually wakes up and is sufficiently disturbed to get out of bed and provide one for me.
We had been going to take the shuttle into town today but after making the tea and peering out of the window, Mike proclaims the weather to be like being in England and promptly goes back to bed.
The wind is so strong that it pulls the boat away from the pontoon. Getting off is therefore not an option from the back steps and I have to get off over the side. With long and very flexible legs, this is not normally a problem but the floating pontoons here are really low to the water so stepping over requires me to put one foot on the one inch wide window ledge and balance there precariously on the way down. In strong winds, wearing flip flops, bikini and sarong (which is determined to wrap itself around everything except me during my descent) I manage to get off. Elegant it is not but at least I don’t fall in the water!
I pop over to say Hi to Jutta, Jochem and Eline. Sitting in their cockpit we watch the wind pulling at the yachts, trying to drag them sideways, which in turn tugs at the newly constructed floating pontoons, pulling them sideways too. I have visions of the whole lot being pulled apart and out to sea.
When I get back to the boat, Mike, although still in his dressing gown and slippers, has started on his list of jobs. While he is captive, I pin him down for a long overdue haircut and general tidy up. Now I can be seen in public with him – as long as he shaves!
The wind and rain continue. The upside (of the rain anyway) is that I don’t have to wash the outside apart from the cockpit. Mike goes off to listen to a talk about the journey south then west towards Cape Town by a local sailor, most of which is about the dangers of not taking note of the weather. All sailing here revolves around the weather and the short weather windows. They’ll be no long distance hauls but short shops of a couple of hundred miles each. This would be good if we didn’t have time constraints. We need to be in Knysna a couple of days before Victoria arrives on 26 November, but with the blasted generator part not having turned up yet, we are stuck here for longer than we should be.
Almost immediately he gets back we have to leave to go to the welcome party being given by the Zululand Yacht Club. We have been given free tee shirts from them and everyone wears them. We start off in the bar with free drinks then move downstairs for the prize giving and presentations. We win first prize in the multihull division for the second time in a row.
A local dance troupe of kids puts on a fantastic display of Zulu tribal dancing. They are fantastic and their enthusiasm makes you want to join in. I love African tribal music; the beat, the stomping, the drums. Wonderful stuff. It reminds of that group that was around in the late 70s, Burundi Black.
A competition is set up for us. Whoever can spit a piece of impala droppings the furthest will win an impala hide. I am up for having a go even before they reveal that they will actually give us chocolate peanuts instead of impala poo to use, but first there’s the barbecue. The amount of food is huge, and even though I am almost at the end of the queue there is loads left.
There’s live music as well, and as the wine has been flowing a bit, most of us get up to dance, although as usual, most of the women are more enthusiastic than the men.
Then the spitting begins. By the time I get outside, chocolate peanuts have been flying everywhere. I watch some of the guys. They can project them a long way – it must be all that hot air behind them. I have a go but my ladylike attempts are quite pathetic.
Oisin from Brown Eyed Girl wins the gobbing contest and goes off with his prize. After lots more dancing, I am suddenly overcome with a fit of tiredness and we creep back to the boat and into bed.
No comments:
Post a Comment