TYING THE CIRCUMNAVIGATION KNOT -- CAPETOWN TOWARD THE CARIBBEAN

Michael Johnson

Mike's account of Aissa's travels have already appeared in Flying Fish 1991/2 and 1994/1, and in 1990 he was awarded the Barton Cup for his west to east passage around Cape Horn. Aissa is a Westsail 32, a double-ended heavy displacement GRP cutter built in 1974.)

Passages always seem to take longer than anticipated, especially when you are traversing an area that holds as much fascination as an ocean bordered by Africa and South America. With the five southernmost capes now behind Aissa, I felt we should get the most out of this homeward-bound leg and not look back with regret at what we had bypassed in our rush to the northern hemisphere. Aissa departed Capetown on 24 April 1994 as a southeast gale blew itself out. The afternoon was so clear that the mountains had a surreal quality. The sunset was all pastels and soon a huge moon lighted our way north toward the tropics. On this passage I had one new crew member (joining in Capetown) and another who had sailed with me from Kenya. We were initially bound toward the Skeleton Coast of Namibia -- so called because of the skeletons of hapless ships and whalers cast up by the cold Benguela Current on this fog-shrouded, imperfectly charted, desert coast.

Aissa took five days for her passage from Capetown to the old diamond mining town of Loderitz about 500 miles distant. We sailed well offshore with favourable winds except for a northwester, which ended in dense sea fog. This cleared just as we closed with Dias Point off Loderitz Bay (named for Bartolemeu Dias who sheltered here in 1487 in his search for a route around Africa to the East). The desert comes down to the sea here. Huge dunes loom in the distance, and Loderitz itself provides the striking image of a turn of the century German town sandwiched between desert and sea.

This town was the epicenter of a diamond rush in the early part of this century, and the stories from those times are fascinating. Many `diamond palaces' in Loderitz were built during these boom years and the richness of the architecture is preserved today. Diamonds are still mined further south and Loderitz is surrounded by the Sperregebiet (a forbidden area). The traveller is prohibited from stepping from his vehicle as he passes through this desert zone. Patrols are said to be overzealous, well armed and uninterested in asking questions.

We found Namibia to be a colourful and varied country. There are only two good harbours -- Loderitz and Walvis Bay -- although anchorage can, at times, be had elsewhere depending upon conditions. My newest crew member left the boat in Loderitz due to family illness, and two of us sailed the 300-odd miles to Walvis (Whale) Bay. The Walvis Peninsula, which provides a protective arm around the harbour, is only 2 to 4 feet in height. This makes it difficult to see from any distance and dangerous in foggy weather which is common all along this coast. From here northward toward Angola is the true Skeleton Coast `having been the scene of innumerable wrecks, not only from the imperfect nature of the surveys, but because onshore sets by the current are frequently experienced. A further cause is the prevalence of fog, especially during the winter' (from the Sailing Directions for the South West Coast of Africa).

Walvis Bay, an enclave that once belonged to South Africa, had been turned over to Namibia, but when Aissa arrived there were still few signs of change. Small yacht clubs exist in both Loderitz and Walvis Bay. Moorings are available to visitors, and both clubs are very hospitable as well as providing valuable sources of information. We obtained visas for Brazil in Windhoek, the capitol, and while waiting for these to be processed travelled about the country in a four-wheel-drive truck, camping as we went. This took us north into Kaokoland, an area inhabited by the nomadic Himba people and said by some to be one of the last of the `wild' areas of Africa. We drove to the Angolan border and followed the Kunene River (which forms that border) along a terrible track. While in the north we met Johanne Steyn, a South African Special Forces veteran, who pointed us toward the Hoanib River where we encountered several of the rare desert elephants which recently numbered as few as eighty animals. We travelled the Skeleton Coast by a road that took us to Terrace Bay, a former diamond mine, with a beach of polished agates and other semi-precious stones. The coast is bordered by dunes and littered with all sorts of wreckage. It is lonely and desolate but starkly beautiful -- provided you are not stranded as many a mariner has been. In Walvis Bay the `Berg Winds' were blowing. These are hot, dusty winds sweeping from the east over the desert. The anchorage in the bay is exposed to them and the land is often obscured by haze. The sunsets are the pay-off, however, as they are the most vivid of oranges due to the dust from the sand dunes which is suspended in the air.

We departed Walvis Bay keeping well offshore. At times there appeared to be fog patches on the sea in the distance and odd mirage-like images of land where there was no land. This was strange and a little disconcerting. I had never seen anything quite like it before, and suppose it was in part due to the proximity of desert and cold current. These `mirages' were noticeable in the mornings and evenings for several days. There was a fair amount of ship traffic, mostly diamond diving vessels and fishing craft. Northward up the Skeleton Coast we passed abandoned diamond mines, Cape Fria and finally the mouth of the Kunene River, which marks the southern boundary of war-torn Angola. Suddenly Aissa was alone on an empty sea.

About fifty miles to the north of the Angolan border lies Ba¡a dos Tigres (one wonders about the origins of the name). I had heard something of this area from Johanne Steyn and several aviators. The South West Africa Pilot described it as one of the best anchorages on the Angolan coast. Before 1963 a low sandy arm swept out to the northwest forming a bay about 18 miles long and 6 miles wide, while on the mainland huge sand dunes came down to the sea. Since 1963 the peninsula has become an island as the sand spit at the southern end (Saco dos Tigres) has been washed away. No source mentioned how much water covered the washed-out portion of this peninsula. There had once been a considerable town, Sƒo Martinhos dos Tigres, about five miles south down the sandy arm, but it was now said to be abandoned. The South West Africa Pilot commented on it as if it were still viable, but again no-one seemed sure if this was the case.

North of the town on the point is a lighthouse (inoperative) and there is a large shipwreck on the ocean side of the spit. I was not able to obtain any detailed charts of this area but I still felt an approach was possible given the information I had from several sources. We closed with the coast in haze and surface fog, finally catching a fleeting image of a ghostly-looking ship. The wreck appeared at first to be sailing in the fog. Then, as Aissa drew closer, I could see the breakers and white water around her. She had made her last passage -- caught by the tigers perhaps. We carefully made our way up the coast, around the point and into the Ba¡a dos Tigres as the fog burned away. We could see black figures on the bright sands and at first mistook these for people, but upon closing we saw that they were in fact large grounded birds starkly contrasted against the glaring white beach.

Aissa sailed south down the bay past wrecked and gutted warehouses and buildings. We anchored in front of the destroyed Sƒo Martinhos dos Tigres, just off a large yellow stucco church with a ship-styled weathervane topping its steeple. The place had an eerie feel, as if we were entering someone's home when the occupants were out but might momentarily return. All was still except for the birds and our voices as we lowered the sails and dropped the dinghy into the water. I rowed ashore with signals worked out in case anyone showed up. From the beach I could see a considerable town with many substantial and some elaborate buildings. On crossing the beach toward the church I saw what definitely appeared to be a landmine exposed in the sand. I carefully walked to the church, following a hard path that I thought would be the most difficult to mine. Inside, the church was totally destroyed. The walls were covered with red graffiti and a Madonna and Child lay beheaded near what had been an altar. In the dust were barefoot prints. I walked from one end of the main street (which had also served as an airstrip) to the opposite end. There were the ruins of a hospital, a post office, water tower and other buildings whose use I could only guess, all built of blocks and mortar to last longer than they had. It was a sad, desolate place.

I retraced my steps to the beach and rowed back to Aissa. I told my crewman about the possibility of mines and that I didn't advise him going ashore. He agreed, and we departed the way we had come. We were almost clear of the bay when I saw three large blue vessels appear out of the haze. Upon sighting us they altered course and steered straight for Aissa. There was no possibility of out-running them but I headed directly for the lighthouse point and the open South Atlantic. At the last minute the lead vessel altered course and continued on south (perhaps they were only curious) but then they closed with each other and swung toward us again. By now we were rounding the point. The three vessels did not follow, and I headed Aissa west toward St Helena. Our last view of Africa was the wrecked ship on Peninsula dos Tigres, which in the distance and descending darkness looked as if she were sailing again.

Aissa sailed due west for nine days during which time we logged 1048 miles. The skies were mostly overcast, with the winds favourable and sometimes up to gale force. We eventually sailed into James Bay and anchored near the wharf. St Helena is 10.5 miles long and 6 miles wide, and provided us with a pleasant stop though the anchorage was very rolly. I was reminded of Kipling's `St Helena Lullaby':

How far is St Helena from the field of Waterloo

a near way -- a clear way -- the ship will take you soon.

A pleasant place for gentlemen with little else to do.

Ascension Island was our next landfall, about 700 miles distant, after an uneventful passage. A small bit of rock (about 7 miles at its widest) breaking the surface of the South Atlantic above the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, the island is stark and bare with volcanic peaks in the clouds. We anchored in just under 5 fathoms of clear water. It was not as rolly as St Helena, but upon approaching the wharf and steps (the only landing you are allowed to use) we found a heavy swell running which slammed into the steps and dropped over 10 feet as it pulled sucking away from the stone wharf. We could not land on the first day but were able to do so eventually. As this island is both an American and British military base, stops here by yachts are not encouraged though they are tolerated for short periods (officially 48 to 72 hours). We topped up our water tanks and departed for Fernando de Noronha, just off the bulge of Brazil and about 1100 miles away.

We had a favourable current and the wind steady astern, a full moon again lit our way and the weather was warm and pleasant. Flying fish were numerous. After nine days we made landfall in these lush Brazilian islands whose volcanic spires give something of the appearance of some of the Polynesian islands. The islands are a Brazilian National Park and some 195 miles from Cabo de Sƒo Roque on the mainland.

We anchored in the Bay of Sƒo Antonio on the leeward side of Ilha de Fernando de Noronha. There was one other foreign sailing vessel (French) and a number of local craft anchored near a newly constructed breakwater. These islands are under-populated and beautiful, but they are not a port of entry for Brazil (you are first supposed to clear in on the mainland before sailing here with a permit). I was allowed to go ashore with special permission from the police and charged no fees, but I later learned that the French vessel, which had a permit having come from the mainland, was charged a daily fee. The island water was not safe to drink without treatment and there were no official facilities for changing money. After a short stay we departed for Bel'm and Amazonia about 1100 miles away.

After some 195 miles we crossed my January 1989 outbound track when I was en route to Cape Horn, thereby `tying the knot' and completing Aissa's circumnavigation. It had been 5 years, 6 months and 2 weeks since Aissa sailed southward through these waters. As of 1 August 1994 she had sailed around the world from East to West, south of the five southernmost capes.

(2324 wrods)