"No immediate threats". That is how Des, our weather router for this passage, normally started his daily bulletin. But not every day, as we were to find out.
A few days before leaving La Reunion, we learned of a Lagoon catamaran that sank in rough weather before getting to Richards Bay. You can say what you like about people using French production boats to try to cross oceans, but the news still rattled us. Fortunately, we had met up with our friend Gary (SV Manxman), on his third circumnavigation, and his reassuring words brought new confidence. In addition we had signed up with Des Carson, a legend of a weather router, to help us do the crossing. Des has also written many articles (available on Noonsite) and we had researched them thoroughly.
This passage, the final leg sailing across the Indian Ocean, has many issues which make it difficult.
Firstly, boats leave La Reunion based on a 'weather window' which probably is only good for the first half of the passage. i.e. one that allows them to get south of Madagascar. Arriving south of Madagascar, you have no idea if there will be a weather window to get into Richards Bay. Route choices and strategy will then vary, depending on what you find when you get there.
Secondly, the weather in the Mozambique channel (west of Madagascar) is notoriously unpredictable. Strong, south westerly 'busters' appear regularly and sometimes unpredictably. You will need to deal with at least one on the crossing.
Thirdly, the east coast of Madagascar has no 'bolt holes', whilst the southern tip has shallows with treacherous seas. Given that people leave when there is a strong SE wind blowing, Madagascar presents a dangerous lee shore and ample sea room must be given. There is also a compression zone off the south east corner which significantly increases windspeed.
Fourthly, there are significant and seemingly random currents which affect route planning. Getting them wrong can slow you by up to 2 knots
Next, at this time of year, the Mozambique channel is notorious for violent thunderstorms and lightning.
Finally, it is the last 100nm to Richards Bay, 10 days or more into your passage, where the Agulhas current can produce terrible sea state in wind against current situations. If the wind is from the south at more than 10 knots, the port should not be approached. And weather windows with winds in the north typically last a maximum of three days.
The general guidelines for the passage are;
a) to leave when there is enough east in the wind to comfortably stay to windward of an Aim Point, 26S 47E
b) do not sail straight to the aim point but 'loop' into it, giving more sea room between you and Madagascar and sailing the outer edge of the compression zone. We were sailing in the company of Brandon (SV Viento del Mar). They were 40nm closer to Madagascar. The peak windspeed they saw was 39 knots, compared to 33 knots for Skyfall.
c) from this Aim point head west as quickly as possible until far enough west that, should a strong SW buster appear, you can run and hide on the SW of Madagascar (at Nosey Ve).
We left on October 21st in the late afternoon, just two days after arriving in La Reunion. The sail to the compression zone off Madagascar was uneventful and fast. As expected, on the 25th the wind started to increase around teatime. The first reef went in after food. At nine I woke Chris to add a second. The third was planned for shift change at midnight.
The third reef became problematic. The line to the tack was tight. The second line to the clew was jammed and I could not get it tight. That meant investigating what was going on at the end of the boom, heeled over in 30 knots of wind. It is imperative that the boat is far enough off the wind that the boat is heeled, there is pressure in the sail, the mainsheet is tight and the end of the boom is stationary. The skipper knew this, the boat was set up with engine on to hold course and I was not too concerned as I stood, next to and holding onto the mainsheet, peering at the end of the boom with a torch.
I saw the problem immediately. The line attached to the zip of the lazy bag was wrapped around the reefing line. With one hand firmly holding the mainsheet, I used the other to try to untangle it. Powering into waves with 30knot winds in the pitch black. Then it happened. A huge wave came from the lee bow and knocked the bow to windward. Suddenly the mainsheet was no longer tight and the boom kicked to windward. I held on for dear life as the boat half tacked and my feet were mid air. Somewhere, I lost my grip and, my body now horizontal, I fell about one metre, landing with the small of my back over the back rest behind the helm station. I had the presence of mind to roll from the deck onto the cockpit floor and lay there. Boy, did that hurt.
I waited five minutes to make sure there would be no reactions to shock. The adrenaline kicked in, we dropped the main and got the boat sailing again under genoa only.
Chris was brilliant. Cool as a cucumber. He started feeding me painkillers every four hours and would not let me do anything. He claims not to be a sailor but, for almost 36 hours, he sailed the boat alone. It took three days before I could really contribute physically. I lay in the cockpit being fed and watered, offering advice occasionally whilst Chris got on with things.
To make matters worse, the following morning, with a substantial wind still blowing, laying in the cockpit, I noticed the top of the solar arch was moving slightly. I knew what that meant. I sent Chris to investigate and, sure enough, four welds had cracked.
If we did nothing, I knew the arch would not survive. But it was not safe to do much in those conditions.
Luckily, by lunchtime on 26th, the wind had dropped to nothing. We turned on the motor to head west, as advised, and set about remedial work on the arch. There were two actions required: to reduce the weight on the arch and to lash and bind as much as possible to hold the structure together. This meant removing the outboard and solar panels.
Fortunately, Skyfall has a lazarette large enough to accommodate them. I simply watched from the cockpit as Chris set about the work. (He did not want me to move. He thought it more important that I recover to be able to sail should conditions deteriorate).
Most of my recovery time was spent on my back, the only semi-comfortable position I could find. This was fine whilst awake but, like many men of my vintage, sleeping on my back is not kind on people nearby. I snore so loudly that I sometimes wake myself up! Chris commented that it had one advantage: if the fog came down we would not have to dig out the fog horn.
Having done all we could with the solar arch, we needed to consider our options. From the following day, we would have a NE wind which we could use to head west. Unfortunately, we could not get to Richards Bay before the next SW wind would arrive.
Following discussions between Des, Brandon and myself, we had three options:
to run and wait in Nosey Ve (Des preferred option). This would be a 200nm detour and sailing there and back would take 3 days which is longer than the 2.5 days we needed to 'lose' before a favourable wind was due to kick in. Also lightning is worse close to land.
continue west and aim for Inhaca (initial recommendation from Brandon). The Agulhas current is quite mild here and it is possible to cross even with a SW wind blowing, provided it is not to strong. My issue with this option was the electrical activity on the west of the Mozambique channel
hang out waiting in the channel (my choice).
We turned off the engine and drifted along at 1 knot for a day, waiting for the NE winds. During that time, the Skipper searched and searched for a strategy to get to Richards Bay. This included a review of CAPE data, which indicates where there is likely to be thunder and lightning.
We took the decision to use the NE winds, not to head west, but south west to try to get south of the worst of the thunderstorms. In addition, it would put us in a good position to use the SW winds, which were due to arrive in three days.
We would have liked to have got further south but, with warnings from Des, we sailed extremely cautiously. The updates changed from, "no immediate threats" to comments like, "completely surrounded- at 34S 38E massive thunderstorm - thinning out and moves north - will cross over you in a much reduced form - take care". And, if his message did not start with, "No immediate threats", then it would end with, "Sail slow, stay safe".
At night, most cruisers add a reef. In the Mozambique channel we added two reefs so as not to be caught out by the (extremely violent) squalls. Unfortunately, sailing in 15-20 knots with three reefs is not fast!
We sailed south for three days. It may have been slow, but we enjoyed some great sunsets and sunrises.
The southerly winds were due to kick in the morning of 30th Oct. That would be our signal to make the 'dash' to Richards Bay. But not in a straight line.
There is an important 'current carousel' ENE of Richards Bay. From our position we could reach/close reach round the top of it. And the wind, which would start blowing from the WSW (TWD=240), was forecast to swing around to the south east (TWD=160) as we sailed round the carousel.
On the morning of the 30th, before the new wind arrived, we had one more challenge to get through. For three days we had avoided the lightning. However, just a few hours before we would get wind, there were three bands of thunder clouds rolling towards us. We watched the distant lightning getting closer and closer. The sails came down and, tracking the active cells with the radar, we managed to zig-zag our way through the gaps in the first two banks. There was lightning, but nothing close. Unfortunately, the third band was continuous and moving too fast to avoid.
As it engulfed us, we gunned the engine and turned perpendicular to the front. In seconds the rain became torrential and the lightning started flashing all around us. It was terrifying. I am not religious but I admit to praying. Four strikes were within a few hundred metres of us but somehow Skyfall was spared. After thirty to forty minutes we motored out the other side, totally unscathed.
As we looked back, the cloud formation looked like it might dispatch a tornado or something (see top picture).
Mid morning, the wind kicked in and Skyfall was up and running. We had 13-18 knots, blue skies and Skyfall belted along under full sail. It was the first really enjoyable, fun sailing of the passage. SV Viento del Mar were just 25nm ahead of us. My boat loves to reach/close reach and, aided by the current, we covered 280nm in 36 hours.
The SW wind, which had closed our original weather window to Richards Bay had, by 22.00 on 31/10, catapulted us to within 110nm of our goal. But it was dying and the motor went on. The end of the SW wind signalled that the weather window to enter Richards Bay was officially open and, according to forecast, should stay open until 2/11. As we motored through the night and the following morning, some might have felt that the excitement was over.
But it is never over until it is over. If Des recommended, "Sail slow, stay safe" for the first part of this passage, his mantra for the second was, "Dash at full speed". Because this is the Mozambique channel where things change quickly.
To illustrate this, consider what happened to Brian (SV Holdfast), who came in to Richards Bay a few days earlier...
"Hold Fast has arrived in RB despite Mother Nature and PredictWind's forecasting ability trying to do me in. What a brutal passage. One of those real tests of sailing single handed. Gotta say up front my warp-lines saved my life last night. Zero question I would have had a broach or been knocked down without them. 50+ knots winds off the stern with stacked following seas up to my spreaders in the middle of a 3 to 4 knot current. It was all I could do to keep any rudder control for the better part of the evening. Twice I was sure she was going over. Cabin windows were almost in the drink. Ditch bag was on deck! "
Apparently, the wind went from nothing to 50+ knots in under two hours.
Our forecast predicted the new northerly wind to reach 15 knots by 10.00 in the morning, 20 knots an hour later and 25 gusting 30 knots by 13.00. Indeed, at 10.00, only 35 nm from Richards Bay, we put up the sails. Just before lunch the first reef went in. The wind rose so quickly that, by the time we were done with food, I decided to complete the journey under genoa only. It may have been slower, but I did not want to be caught out at the last hurdle. Sure enough, by 14.00 we had 25-27 knots and were happy to complete our passage at a leisurely pace.
The quarantine dock at Richards Bay is a big concrete wall and, although sheltered, the wind was gusting strongly in unpredictable ways. I almost messed up our mooring but owe special thanks to Ito and his crew (SV Seven Oceans) who took lines, fended off and saved me from embarrassment.
Des, our weather router, has a style very different from what I expected. He provides (weather) information, guidelines and warnings, but expects the skipper to make his own route choices (in my case, in consultation with Brandon). Des was kind enough to send a congratulatory message of which I am very proud. It included, " Your tactic was spot on - some things just can't be taught".
This passage had been the hardest and most dangerous crossing that I have done. The viciousness and power of the squalls here are unique (in my experience). Chris summed it up nicely posting, "I came for a challenge and something out of my comfort zone, I met the challenge, but I prefer my comfort zone!"
We had made it.
I hope you continue healing well after that extremely challenging passage. Hat’s off to you and Chris for overcoming significant challenges and making sound choices with tactics. I’m grateful you arrived safely and documented the journey so well. Cheers to you two and Skyfall.