A day in Eritrea

The Red Sea has been showing its gentler side today - calm seas with 10-15 knots of wind, making for very pleasant sailing.

I managed to keep the spinnaker up until 4am, when the wind died and I motored the remaining 20 miles to Harmil Island. It was a good job I arrived in daylight as as I quickly found myself enmeshed in a maze of coral heads and had to bid a cautious retreat until using the ratlines I could make-out a clear passage into the anchorage. The pilot guide referred to Harmil island as uninhabited. Being king of an island for a day always appeals, even if it's a land with a little else than a few stunted mangroves clinging to its otherwise barren sand. However no time to loiter, I wanted to press on while the strong northerly wind remained further up the Red Sea. So after dropping anchor I wasted no time in heading up the mast to investigate the furling problem. As I manually unrolled the genoa at the mast-head a boat rounded the NE tip of the island and headed in my direction. I didn't like the idea of a boat load of strangers arriving while I was dangling helplessly from the mast so I made a record-breaking descent just as the local military arrived. Despite the threatening looking weapons onboard my first and only Eritrean visitors were all smiles and left once they'd received some "gifts" - a couple of old novels and some drinks. They had a base at the southern end of the island - so much for pilot guide's claim of uninhibited lands. Not sure they appreciated my effort flying their flag, it was only up for a day and has now been replaced by a Sudanese courtesy flag.

I've just feasted on ceviche (thanks to Danika on Mata'irea for the recipe). I caught a fat dog-tooth tuna yesterday and have been making the most of it all day.

The parable of the weed and the boat hook
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One day a boat was sailing through a sea dotted with floating weed. After some time the weed became tangled around the self-steering servo rudder and the skipper of the boat noticed the speed had dropped from 5 to 4 knots. "I must remove the weed so that I'll arrive in the next anchorage before the wind turns against me", thought the skipper. His first plan was to use the boat hook to pull the weed from the rudder. He hung over the back of the boat and struggled with the boat hook for over half an hour trying to remove the weed, but the thickest weed at the bottom of the rudder was the hardest to reach and he failed to remove it. Suddenly inspiration arrived. Instead of battling precariously off the back he simply stopped the boat - the weed fell free. Pleased with himself he felt master of all problems, rapidly solved the genoa furling problem with liberal use of boiling water and WD40 as well as finding a novel solution to reuse mast winches' head when hoisting additional sails. The moral: A restful night away from shipping makes troublesome problems vanish.

Hamil Island anchorage (8.30): N16deg32.9' E40deg10.1'
Position @ 20:00 (GMT+3): N17deg00' E39deg45'

Superstitous sailors?

We'd studied the weather, debated our route and had decided unanimously to brave the conditions and leave our windy anchorage in Hanish Islands the following day. However, our resolve crumbled when we awoke to the same sound of the wind howling through the rigging, without a hint of the drop we'd been anticipating. Fortunately Ian came to the rescue with an excuse to allow us to temporarily postpone the decision - he was having trouble charging his batteries and wanted to investigate the problem. His alternator regulator proved to be the culprit and after some work we managed to rig a temporary solution with two switches and 12W and 24W light bulbs allowing him to set the charge rate to either 6A, 25A or 80A - almost as good as the real thing.

Preparing a Saudi flag: "There is no God but Allah and Mohammed is his prophet". Potential fines and prison sentances if you stray into Saudi waters and aren't flying the flag

The delayed gave us a chance to listen to weather reports from others further north. The omens looked good - 80 miles ahead of us the wind and sea had decreased. However then we downloaded a weather forecast showing the winds increasing. What to do? Gunner announced that he wouldn't be setting off as he'd noticed it was Friday 13th. Ian decided to give himself more time to get the boat in shape. Antares and Risho Maru, seemed happy to wait - but I'd built myself up to leave so decided to head off. My decision was based on the boat ahead reporting more favourable conditions and my concern that the strong southerly winds would die out in a few days leaving potentially light head-winds. I'd much rather put up with 12 hours or so of nasty seas, than motor an extra 300 miles. However I doubted the sanity of my decision as once I'd left the "shelter" of the anchorage the full force of the wind swept across the boat. I also hit a problem with the furling gear on the genoa - I could only unfurl a metre of sail. It gave me an excuse to turn back - but then I knew I would likely be stuck for another day so decided to press on and hoisted the hanked-on jib instead. Five miles out the worst of the gusts moderated, but then another 5 miles I was in a short occasionally breaking 3-4m seas. Kika coped fantastically and soon we were making a good 7 knots with only a small headsail set. I estimate the wind was 25-30 knots gusting to 40+.

In preparation I'd cleaned the hull, cooked and baked some passage food and managed to rig an alarm, loud enough to wake the dead (or sleepy), to the radar. Typically soon after dusk, I found myself in the midst of shipping transiting the Red Sea, but fortunately the radar alarm worked fantastically letting me know every 10 minutes if there were any ships within a 8 mile radius - which there were for most of the night.

Today as predicted the winds and seas moderated and I gradually increased the sail area, going from this morning's small working jib to full main and spinnaker by mid-afternoon. I seem to have become the temporary weather taster for the group, providing advanced weather information, though they're still calibrating my pronouncements of "little lumpy" and "quite a strong blow" with what it would mean for them in practice.

I'm planning a pit-stop at Hamil Island (Eritrea) tomorrow morning, to fix the furling gear, then if the wind holds I'll push on into Sudanese waters - just to continue the tradition of visiting countries at turbulent times. To date I've been in Thailand during the airport protests, Tonga with riots after the King's death and Gulf of Aden, during the escalation in piracy. Though I narrowly missed Fiji during the military coup and Martinique for the current round of protests.

Position @ 20.30 (GMT+3) 14/3/2009: N16deg08' E040deg52'

Out of Aden and into the Red Sea

I'm writing this lying at anchor in the "shelter" of an island 80 miles into the Red Sea, with a steady 30 knots gusting 45 knots outside - I hadn't expected the notorious Red Sea weather to reveal its strength quite so quickly. Looks like I'm set for a challenging passage - seems to be a theme in these parts.

After a manic time in Aden, stocking up for the passage up the Red Sea, I set off on Monday at the same time as eight Scandinavian boats - including pirate convoy members Helen Kate. Swedish and Norwegian filled the VHF airwaves overnight, breaking up the little sleep I managed to grab, but tiredness was quickly forgotten as dawn revealed the entry to the Red Sea. Seldom has the transition from one Sea or Ocean to another been so pronounced. One moment I was sailing in the Indian Ocean, the next I rounded Bab el Mandeb ("Gate of Tears") and I was in the Red Sea. Initially the Red Sea, hid its true nature - the steep seas subsided as I rounded the headland, however an hour later and the strong SE wind was soon building a nasty steep chop. Our group divided, Helen Kate and I stuck to the east Yemeni coast, while the other boats crossed the shipping lanes to the western Eritrean coast. Our plan was to continue north while the southerly winds held, but by midday the heavy conditions were taking their toll and we both decided we needed a rest. A new plan quickly formed and we altered course for the Hanish islands, which we made just after dark with the full-moon guiding us into the anchorage. Bliss - an uninterrupted night's sleep in a protected anchorage. The next morning while we planned our next hop, the others from our pirate dodging convoy arrived, so instead we decided to be sociable and stay for a day. Our sociability might have been a tactical error as that evening the wind increased and we anxiously monitored the tension in our anchor chains as 45 knot gusts blew through the anchorage. You know it's blowing when you need to close your hatches at anchor to stop the breaking waves flooding the boat. The wind has continued throughout the day, delaying our departure - but we've decided to head off tomorrow and brave the steep seas as it looks as though 100 miles north (hopefully sooner), the wind is a much more reasonable 20 knots.

Helen Kate in Hanish Island anchorage

It's frustrating being storm bound as I feel time is ticking away - I have a hard deadline - my sister's wedding May 2nd. The plan is to fly back to the UK from Cyprus, but first I have to make the 1200 miles up the Red Sea with a wind that so far doesn't seem to share my urgency. Still I've been making use of the extra time in the anchorage to study the pilot guide - it's destined to become the most thumbed guide on the boat; engage in much weather punditry with the others and brave the wind and clean the hull. It's unbelievable how quickly the bottom has become fouled. I cleaned mussels, barnacles, weed and even found a small crab living in the space between the rudder and the skeg. Now if I was French I could have created a delicious "fruits de mer" topped with blue anti-fouling paint.

Anchorage @ 20:00 (GMT +3) 10/3/09: N13deg 46.8' E42.46.6'

Into Aden

We arrived in Aden just after midday. After the having the anchorage in Mukalla to ourselves, it took some adjustment to have to search for a place to anchor in amongst the other yachts - but great to be reunited with friends again.

The last part of the trip was fairly uneventful except Antares picking up a DSC distress call from east of Suqutra island over 600 miles away - amazing when VHF is normally only line of sight. More worrying was that when he tried to relay the mayday to the collation forces no one responded!

Looking back on this last leg, it's been great to sail the whole way and compared with most other boats in the anchorage it sounds like we've been lucky with the wind. One downside of the wind, is the accompanying desert haze - the ropes, deck, and any flat surface is covered in a thin layer of sand that makes everything look instantly dirty and unloved. I guess beating into the Red Sea head winds should wash it all away...

Aden 06/03/2009 12:30 (GMT+3) N12 47.59' E 44deg 59.00'

Final night in pirate alley

Another great day sailing - with spinnakers set and some close action between Kika and Antares.

Antares about to overtake Kika

Kika from Antares

I even caught a couple of small tuna; each giving two decent meals. They've been marinating in the fridge all day.
I've never used the spinnaker/cruising chute so much before. The boat seems so much more stable with spinnaker compared with goose-winging with main and genoa. Seems there's always more to learn...

Unless something catastrophic occurs we'll reach Aden tomorrow and tonight will be our final night in pirate alley. Perhaps a good opportunity to reflect.

Large ship piracy is clearly different from yacht piracy, with yacht piracy more armed robbery than hostage taking. Besides the actual piracy an almost larger problem seems to be the accompanying paranoia. This leads to a complete break-down in trust between ships in the Gulf and results in the danger of large ships moving unlit at night and being too frightened to respond to radio calls.

The literature implies that the pirates use fishing boats making the pirates initially indistinguishable from fishermen. Given some of the over-inquisitive fishermen whose motive remains unclear perhaps some of the reported incidents could have been opportunistic fishermen trying to make a quick buck - however this could be my own paranoia affecting me here. I certainly wouldn't like to sail these waters without other boats around, it's been more eventful than I expected and I think we've all felt reassured by the presence of others in our little convoy.

Position @ 12:00 (GMT+3), 05/03/2009: N13deg 26' E047deg04'
Distance to Aden: 128
Daily run: 122
Engine hours: 0

270 miles to Aden

After an intriguing stay in Mukalla we're off again, for the comparatively modest 270 miles trip to Aden. The infamous five have become the depleted foursome; Helen Kate wanted to press on to Aden rather than spend time exploring inland - how will we manage without the protection of our Viking twosome?

Jasper made me feel better about running out of diesel on the previous trip, by running out of water the instant he left the port - it seems a common problem - misjudging the levels of fluids in our tanks.

After a slow start the wind soon kicked in and up went four spinnakers. It's been a manic morning - preparing for sea, recovering and stowing the stern anchor, securing the dinghy and then the seemingly continuous adjustment to the sails as we worked our way around the coast. There was little spare time to worry about the pirates. However, sixty miles west of Mukalla is an area renowned for numerous armed yacht robberies, so it was important to stick together. I've never worked so hard. Of course if you fall behind, you can always ask the others to slow down a little, but that's tantamount to admitting your sailing ability is below par. In fairness the four yachts have very different sailing characteristics, so in practice the faster yachts tend to reduce sail earlier or delaying hoisting their larger sails, but it still means the slower boats have to work hard to stay close. With much work Kika held her own, but it's been an exhausting day.

The sail through the night, past the piracy hotspot was notable in two ways. Firstly the wind continued blowing all night, and allowed us to sail; recently we've had to motor after the sea-breeze dies soon after dusk. Secondly, just before midnight, we came across a confusing array of lights. The radar showed three boats close together. Calling them on the radio, clarified the situation. It turned out to be a ship under tow with an armed escort - not met many of those before.

Position @ 12:00 (GMT+3), 04/03/2009: N14deg 14' E048deg57'
Distance to Aden: 250
Engine hours: 2

Inland to Shibam

After some group decision making paralysis we let our helpful agent Maher organise a minibus and act as our guide on the trip to Shibam. As promised he arrived directly after morning prayers and we were off soon after 6.30am. Once we'd picked up our armed guard from the tourist police we were soon climbing the valley northwards and onto the arid highlands. There's little vegetation or population here, with the occasional sight of women (it seemed to be exclusively women) goat herders covered in black and wearing tall conical hats with the occasional camel roaming the plains.

Goat herding

After a good few hours drive the road began to descend into a deep, sheer, Grand Canyon like valley. At the foot of the valley was our first stop. Khaylata Bagshan - a pastel coloured fort from 1798 strongly built with impressively thick timber doors and windows.

Khaylata

Khaylata Bagshan

We continued along the semi-fertile valley, past towns built into the steep valley sides with houses blending in with the surrounding hills constructed from bricks made from clay and straw.

In many places recent floods had washed the road away but the slow pace over the unrepaired sections gave us more of a chance to spy scenes of daily life such as camels used to grind grains into flour and oil, with the camels walking around the mill in tight circles.

Rebuilding the road after flooding

Raboyn

Our stops included Al-Khriba - once home to the Bin-Laden family; Raboyn - a walled city built into the side of the valley; Seiyun the town where we stayed over night which included a museum in its fort. One of the exhibitions featured photos from 1930. From the photos it seemed little had changed; Toyotas have partially replaced camels and donkeys, children's clothing has adapted and sadly plastic rubbish now blows around streets, but it seemed little else has changed.

Our final destination was Shibam, known as the Manhattan of the desert. A walled city in the valley striking for its ancient high-rise buildings.

Shibam

Apart from meeting a group of Saudi tourists in dazzlingly bright white robes in Shibam we were the only tourists we saw over the two days. Incredible when you consider the amazing sights we've witnessed. It was a long drive home, speeding along the foot of the valley, just above the river bed with the latest Lebanese hits blaring from the stereo and the driver and guard chewing the small green leaves of Qat - the Yemeni national narcotic of choice. Allegedly Qat produces a mild stimulant effect - chewing a few leaves had no effect for me, but apparently I needed more persistence; by late afternoon most men have a ball of mulch filling their cheeks which they've been working on all afternoon. Fortunately our driver delivered us safely home just before sunset.

Mukalla

Although I'm getting closer to Europe, my first taste of Yemen made me feel like I've never been further away. The time difference is only GMT+3 and yet it feels like I've entered a parallel world with familiar sights and sounds co-existing with, to my eyes, entirely alien scenes.

It's rare to be the only tourists in a city but in Mukalla we were the only yachts in the anchorage and the only tourists in town. As such there were plenty of men keen to practise their English with us. Men, as our interaction with women was limited to glimpses of their eyes from the narrow slit in their otherwise totally covered bodies.

On my first day's excursion, I was befriended by Mohammed, who helped me hunt down a working ATM, find some switches for the boat as well as acting as cultural guide, translator, negotiator and arbiter of good taste - he recommended Iraqi dates over dates from UAE ("much better flavour"). The shops are an interesting assortment of traditional with the floor full with sacks of flour, rice and spices, juxtaposed with more recent arrivals selling mobiles and electrical goods.

Mohamed and anchorage

The first couple of days I spent reprovisioning and making essential repairs - the toilet once again has a stable seat, but the main task was filling the tank with diesel. Our agent Maher, supplied the diesel in leaky 18 litre cans. Transferring 200 leaky litres via dinghy in a roly anchorage from shore to boat vied for pole position of worse boat jobs alongside clearing a blocked toilet after a curry pot-luck or diving into the waters of a smelly port to free a fouled propellor. I wasted half the next day trying to rid the dinghy and decks of the layer of oily residue left by the refill.

One of the many familiar and yet confusingly different aspects to life is the way the Arabic version of Windows functions. The interface is a mirror image to a "western" interface, menus are ordered in the opposite directions, web browser back and forward buttons are reversed - (you press "forward" to go "back") and progress meters progress from right to left - looking, to my eyes, like they're going from complete to unstarted.

In summary, it's been a great break from braving the pirate infested waters of the Gulf of Aden with friendly, helpful people, great food (particularly the delicious clay oven baked flat bread, though I'm not sold on camel meat) and much to learn.

Exploring inland

Tomorrow I'm off to the old walled city of Shibam, known as 'the Manhattan of the desert'. It's already sounding intriguing as the tourist police (!) require that we take an armed guard with us.

Our guard

Arrival in Mukalla

This blog is written in a sleep-deprived, post-passage, alcohol fueled celebratory state, so the usual cautions should apply.

Tonight the five boats in our convoy are all safely anchored in Mukalla. Our overnight sail/motor was through a beautiful calm phosphorescent sea. The phosphorescence, was so bright that the luminous green light produced, frequently lit up the sail and a couple of times had me scanning the darkness for the ship's light responsible for the sudden light.

We had one worrying incident during the overnight passage. Early in the morning Risho Maru were leading our group, which by that time was scattered over a mile. They called and asked us to close in on them as soon as possible. A fast motor boat had sped towards them, onboard were five crew armed with guns. They didn't look like coast guard officials and didn't respond to calls on the VHF. Antares was the first on the scene and as fast as the speed-boat had arrived it turned and disappeared into the NE. Later we learnt that we were sailing past an oil terminal and these were guards tasked with defending the terminal from terrorist attack. Worryingly the oil tankers heading for the terminal steam at night without lights. It was a tense 30 minutes which otherwise marred a straightforward passage.

As we approached Mukalla the port captain took our details and gave us the friendliest greeting I've experienced:
'Welcome to Mukalla, you are most welcome. This is your second country.'

Mukalla gradually revealed itself as we headed towards the city in the faint light of dawn. On a narrow strip of land between the sea and mountains is the small city of Mukalla with narrow streets fenced-in by five/six storey apartments, all finished in white. After anchor faff using bow and stern anchors to attempt to keep the boats facing into the swell, and soon after we'd anchored successfully, officials visited each boat in turn, pleasantly surprising us with the efficiency of the check-in procedure. The Kika boat stamp had another outing, giving extra validity to my signature on the multiple forms.

We'll probably stay here for 3-4 days, giving us a chance to explore inland.

Mukalla anchorage (27/2/2009): N14deg 31.7' E049deg 07.9'

Land ahoy

What a difference a few hours rest makes. Yesterday's high drama seems a world away.

Last night we managed to remain remarkably close to each other throughout the night. This added its own challenges as some of us veered around more than others - at one point Astrid calmly called to ask if I'd seen the boat directly behind me - Kika's stern was 10m from Antares bow; the wind vane had taken me directly across Antares' path and we'd narrowly missed a collision. Apart from some other close-calls, though no other narrow misses, it was a quiet, calm night. We sailed half the night and motored the remainder over a flat sea.

Soon after dawn we caught our first glimpse of land and my first sight of the Middle East. Today's big adventure was to stop for a few hours at Palinurus Shoal, a sea mount eight miles off the Yemen coast. The chart showed a patch of 4.5m depth, on which we planned to anchor, snorkel and fish. As we approached the shoal, the horizon was filled with small wooden fishing boats - we estimated over a hundred. Soon each yacht had at least one inquisitive fishing boat greeting them.

Fishermen around Afriki

The fishermen were incredibly friendly and offered us decent size tuna and asked for little other than water and snacks in return. However after a while it was hard not to feel mobbed by them and our search for the 5m patch wasn't going too well. With local help Afriki found a 15m spot and anchored, but the rest of the fleet felt they needed a break from inquisitive fishermen so headed slowly off.

Risho Maru surrounded

Ian quickly fulfilled his blood lust and with a speared trevally rejoined the group. One reason for taking a break on the shoal was to ensure we'd arrive in Al Mukalla in the light. As our stay on the shoal had been briefer than anticipated we gave our engines a break and very slowly sailed SW. Early in the afternoon a sea breeze kicked in and we were treated to another perfect sail across calm seas.

Kika from Helen Kate

Helen Kate from Kika

A couple of times the radio has burst into life, the brief broadcasts carrying the fear of ship crew travelling along the patrolled corridor as they call the coalition forces for help with rapidly approaching small boats. I imagine most are false alarms, but some are undoubtedly real hijack attempts. After our positive encounter with the fishermen today, speeding fishing boats no longer cause as much concern as they did yesterday and the tribulations of big shipping feels less relevant; I hope it stays that way.

Acrobatic dolphins from Helen Kate

Tonight is our final night at sea before we reach Al Mukalla. We're motoring 10 miles off the coast, nearly far enough out to avoid most of the inshore fishing, but occasionally we'll have a boat in our path. I guess it ensures we'll doubly enjoy our first night at anchor.

Position @ 12:00 (GMT+4), 26/02/2009: N14deg 55' E050deg40'
Distance to Al Mukulla: 90

Dark shipping

It's been an eventful 24 hours. At times stressful, certainly tiring, but ultimately enjoyable and has seen our little convoy at its best; reassuring, supportive and generally watching out for each other.

Yesterday evening there was much debate about our route. As we approached the security corridor much more focus was given to our intended course and its implications. Our original plan had been to aim for the north-east end of the corridor then run parallel with it keeping a couple of miles north. However recent reports suggested that Chinese shipping had their own lane 5 miles to the north of the corridor and the prospect of being sandwiched between the Chinese fleet, the shipping in the corridor and patrolling warships didn't appeal. So after weighing many options we decided to head for the Yemen coast keeping 10 miles off as we sail towards Aden. We'd received positive reports from friends already in Aden who had sailed this route without incident. With the decision made we set our spinnakers for the new bearing and pressed on into the night.

Antares has an AIS receiver which provides information about nearby shipping and can sound an alarm if a ship enters within a defined area around your boat. Just before midnight Jasper was alerted to a boat 10 miles off heading in our direction. However nothing was visible on the horizon even though it was a clear night - odd. So Jasper called the ship, and rather than answering they stopped transmitting their AIS signal. We could locate the ship on the radar, but it was running dark - not showing navigation lights. This happened a couple more times throughout the night; very unnerving to be heading towards a busy shipping lane with boats deliberately keeping their navigation lights switched-off.

One time Jasper managed to talk to the crew on a "dark" ship. They seemed anxious and initially unwilling to talk, but eventually Jasper managed to persuade them that we were harmless yachts and the radio operator confirmed that they'd spotted us, but thought we looked like pirates and had tried to warn the coalition forces! It seems everyone is suspicious or even frightened of everyone else out here.

Half way through the night the wind died, on went the engines and my first problem surfaced. I couldn't persuade the electronic autopilot to steer a straight course. Recently the pilot had become more temperamental, but I thought I could work around its idiosyncrasies. Not last night, the course swang violently from side-to-side, in circles, anything other than a straight line. Not a disaster, I would have to hand-steer, but for how long? I wouldn't be able to sleep until the wind returned and I could use the wind-vane.

While tired, worried and keeping a look-out for dark and lit ships the second problem hit me. The engine stopped. I radioed the other yachts, who immediately stopped while I investigated. I'd run the tank dry. Again not an immediate disaster, as I had two spare 20l. cans, but not enough to reach our destination with the current forecast and doubly frustrating as I thought I had enough. Somewhere my sums had gone very wrong. After decanting the spare fuel and bleeding the fuel system we were off again.

As the sun rose, we cleared the last of the shipping. I was a mile behind the other yachts when Risho Maru called to ask if I'd seen the fast craft heading towards me. I hadn't but immediately remembered reading about how pirates use disguised fishing boats with powerful engines, which fitted the description of the rapidly approaching boat. The other yachts had already stopped and started back towards me, my rev counter reached new highs as I motored towards the others. Quickly though the threat disappeared as the fast boat started running on a parallel course then turned around and quickly disappeared over the horizon. Phew, but was it a real threat or just us becoming suspicious and frightened of everyone else?

As we ended up within hailing distance of each other, Ian suggested we stop for a swim. A brilliant idea that relieved the tension of the night.

Ian looking after Kika while I take a mid-ocean plunge

With the other boats around I borrowed a couple more cans of diesel and Ian offered to "lend" me his crew Hugh, so that I could get some rest. I willingly took him up on his offer.

Mid ocean refueling

With Hugh onboard we set off again motoring into a flat sea. While Hugh helmed, I worked on the autopilot problem. The rudder angle feedback wasn't working so the controller would run the motor and wouldn't register any helm movement. Very confusing to its small brain. Eventually I traced the problem - two gears only intermittently engaging. After a few false starts I once more had a working autopilot.

It feels like the worst is behind us, even though we've only just entered "pirate alley" - we've certainly experienced more, in the last few days, than I was anticipating over the whole trip to Aden . We're planning to head for Al Mukalla on Saturday for a rest and refuel before pressing on to Aden.

As I write this we've just enough wind to sail, which after a small sail vs motor debate, came down in favour of giving us and our engines some rest. It's very relaxing to be sailing across a calm sea, in near silence with the reassuring mast-head lights of our little convoy all around. I'm even steering using the wind-vane...

Position @ 12:30 (GMT+5), 25/02/2009: N14deg 48' E052deg35'

Pirate radio

After days of little or no wind, we're finally having a fantastic spinnaker run into the setting sun.

The day started with very little wind and some debate about whether to motor or try to sail. Those worried about diesel carried the day. Initially it wasn't looking promising, we were making 2-3 knots with a 2 knot favourable current, but as we'd motored through the night most were happy to persevere and have a break from the noise and heat of the motor. However by mid-morning you could hear the frustration on the radio as sails flapped impotently and recalculations were made to see how many hours motoring each boat thought they had left. Fortunately the wind slowly increased allowing a more respectable 5 knots though still with a favourable current.

There's been a definite rise in tension in the group as we approach "pirate alley". A couple of emails have cast doubt on our original plan and a ship called to advise us to minimise our use of the VHF, as there were a number of thwarted pirate attacks close to our position. The theory was that the pirates had a mother ship close by and we shouldn't draw attention to ourselves by using the VHF. After this sobering news we rapidly regrouped, our differing speeds had strung us out over 5 miles, which suddenly felt too much.

Although the piracy threat seems increasingly real, it should be tempered with emails we've all been receiving from boats who have made it to Aden without incident.

Our twice daily SSB net has developed a certain pattern. It opens with a musical introduction from Richo Maru and finishes with a poem from Afriki. This morning's crafted verse, alludes to difficulties with collaborative decision making:

Some want to sail; perhaps the majority,
Others want to motor; maybe the minority,
The problem on this ship,
With each extra day on the trip,
Means I need to keep coming up with new poetry.

Copyright 2009 Ian (Afriki)

Position @ 12:00 (GMT+5), 24/02/2009: N14deg 26' E054deg19'
Distance to security corridor: 77
Engine Hours: 16
Daily run: 57

Motoring in a flat sea

With brief lookout snapshots of the lights of the other boats between bouts of sleep it took some time on each lookout to work out my relative position to the other boats; was I gaining, heading too far south etc? Even motoring our progress was slow as we were caught in a 1-2 knot adverse current.

Happily in the morning we were all still with sight of each other and over the next hour moved together. The wind had been non-existent through the night, but a gentle breeze picked up first thing in the morning. Antares led the way when they hoisted their spinnaker, so not wanting to be left out, I struggled with lines and the pole and eventually managed to launch the cruising chute as a spinnaker.

Unfortunately the wind started to die around noon and much talk over the VHF ensued about whether to motor or continue sailing. The collective decision was made more complex as the weather forecast showed little wind over the next four days and three of us doubt we've enough diesel to motor all the way. We opted to motor and hope for more wind later. As we motored we entered a area of brown water, I tried to convince myself it had a red tinge and perhaps this is what gave the Red Sea its name. The other weren't convinced, but denied pumping out their holding tanks. After an hour we escaped the brown water and adverse current - all very strange.

It's a shame that worries about diesel mar what looks to be a calm few days as we enter the Gulf of Aden. I finished the day catching a small mahi-mahi - I was starting to think I'd lost the knack.

Position @ 12:00 (GMT+5), 23/02/2009: N14deg 16' E055deg48'
Distance to new security corridor: 89
Engine Hours: 16
Daily run: 75

International Armada

It's been an eventful day. All the boats started in a line spread over 20 miles, tonight we're motor-sailing within a couple of miles of each other.

We'd always planned to converge, but after two unsettling visits from a couple of over-inquisitive fishing boats, we decided it was time for a mid-ocean rendezvous. The fishing boats approached disconcertingly close, then stayed close-by even after course changes by the yacht. Despite the fisherman's reassurance "I fishing boat not terrorist", their behaviour put us on-guard.

Other ominous events today were a couple of VHF distress calls from the Gulf. Ian was particular spooked as he'd never heard his radio issue a distress alarm before and for a moment didn't know where the alarm was coming from and then didn't know how to cancel it.

Forming the convoy was an event. I quickly caught up with Risho Maru and finally "met" them in daylight, then we drifted together until mid-afternoon when three sails appeared on the horizon and gradually formed the distinct outlines of Antares, Afriki and Helen Kate.

In my excitement at seeing everyone again, I motored slightly too close to greet them and narrowly avoided severing two boats' fishing lines. Fishing and particularly quantity of fish caught has been one of the reoccurring topics of our radio net, so to sever a fishing line, could easily be misconstrued as a provocative act, analogous to the 1970s Icelandic cod war.

The English/Austrian/Dutch/Canadian/Norwegian Armada is complete and hopefully our numbers will discourage any piratical acts.

Tonight I feel like a child at Christmas, almost too over-excited to sleep. It's a beautiful calm star-lit night with four reassuring mast-head lights close-by; normally sailing is enough to keep me occupied, tonight I'll be busy ensuring I don't fall behind, race in-front, wander off to the south or become entangled in another boat. Hopefully we'll still be friends in the morning...

Position @ 12:00 (GMT+5), 22/02/2009: N13deg 57' E057deg03'
Distance to Gulf of Aden: 99
Engine Hours: 2
Daily run: 95

Dolphins in the sunset

The moon isn't making much of an effort to raise itself during the night, making for very dark nights and stunning phosphorescent trails. I know I've mentioned phosphorescence once or twice before, but last-night was one of the most spectacular shows I've seen. Sometimes the boat seemed to cause a large "blob" of luminous organism to glow, leaving bright circles, a metre across, swirling in our wake. A recovered trailing rope was transformed into a magical glowing tube - definitely worth braving the pirates for.

The brisk wind overnight moderated to a gentle breeze this morning, requiring vigilance to keep the sails full and boat moving more or less in the intended direction. For the first time in many days, I was able to leave the hatches open and air the sheets and pillows.

The full rendezvous with the other boats hasn't happened yet - I'm ahead of them by about 20 miles - but it's the first time we've been able to talk over the VHF radio ad-hoc, rather than the HF radio (SSB) at the set times for the net.

I spotted Risho Maru, one of the members of the convey, just after midday. They've been slowly catching up all day and not that I'm competitive, but I've been busy tweaking the sails all afternoon to try to avoid being overtaken. Finally at 7.30 they caught-up and overtook. Great to see another boat briefly, and I'm looking forward to the full rendezvous in a couple of days.

Risho Maru bearing down on Kika

Just before sunset, I spied some dolphins jumping in the distance. It was the acrobatic troupe again performing cartwheels, back flips, high jumps and belly flops, though this time it seems they were doing it for their own amusement, not appreciative sailors - I was too far away to count. Perhaps they were having a practice session and they'll give the full performance off the bow tomorrow.

Position @ 12:00 (GMT+5), 21/02/2009: N13deg 30' E058deg36'
Distance to Gulf of Aden: 194
Engine Hours: 0
Daily run: 107

Converging

The bumpy close-hauled sailing of the last few days has been worth it. Just after 2pm today I crossed the projected track of the other boats, 30 miles ahead of them and hove-to to await their arrival. It's been a wet trip to make the northing, but has its compensations; a couple of times last night the breaking waves brought some luminous drops with them, the phosphorescent blue splodges standing-out brightly in the dark star-lit only night - stunning.

The alarm on the radar worked fantastically well last night, alerting me to ships I could barely make out through the spray. Perhaps I should have opened the instruction book earlier; who said real sailors don't need instructions? I think I've made it to the north side of the shipping lane - there's definitely less shipping, though the radar is still checking for ships every 5 minutes. I'm hoping for a quiet night tonight.

We've changed waypoint - just as the previous one was in reach. The new waypoint is more down-wind, resulting in more relaxing sailing, so the change of course was agreed unanimously by the convoy committee.

I've finished off the last of the tuna with a large dish of cheviche. Tomorrow the line is out again with a new yellow/white/pink squid allegedly enticing to mahi-mahi, we'll see.

I'm experimenting with connection to different stations for sending and receiving emails. Today I received an email via the station in Belgium. This transmitter was the first station we used when we set-off, so it really feels like I'm closing in on Europe again.

The closest boat was 15 miles from my position at 18:00, I decided to sail through the night then meet-up with the others tomorrow, rather than risk missing or hitting the convoy in the night! It'll be great to be sailing in company - just hope their wind-vanes, hold a similarly "straight" course to mine. Time will tell...

Position @ 12:00 (GMT+5), 20/02/2009: N12deg 50' E060deg19'
Distance to Gulf of Aden (previous waypoint): 176
Distance to Gulf of Aden (new waypoint): 301
Engine Hours: 0
Daily run: 113

Signs of life

The radar detector has been busy beeping today, but frequent scans of the horizon revealed nothing with a radar. Finally late this afternoon I spotted a container ship. The first boat since leaving Male' over a week ago. A little later the VHF burst into life, one ship calling another to negotiate who would give way. Confirmation that I'd reached the shipping lanes. It gave me the chance to experiment with the radar to make it sound an alarm if another boat is heading too close. I've rarely use this feature as I'm normally worried about the power drain on the batteries, and besides I don't want to discourage my crew from keeping a vigilant look-out. However without crew I might as well make use of all the technical back-up I can, and the combination of the solar panel and wind generator, especially as I'm beating into the wind, are providing surplus power.

I'm slowly making my way through the monster tuna. Hopefully with a midnight feast tonight and second breakfast tomorrow I might be able to put the line out again and hope for mahi-mahi.

I'm currently holding my own and keeping about 50 miles ahead of the convoy, there are still a couple of days to go before we converge, so plenty of time to slow down.

Position @ 12:15 (GMT+5), 19/02/2009: N11deg 27' E061deg41'
Distance to Gulf of Aden: 289
Engine Hours: 0
Daily run: 143

Delayed gratification

What a difference a day makes; yesterday's tranquil sailing, overnight changed into a tiring beat into a sloppy sea. A couple of times Kika has flown off a wave causing a heart-stopping crash as the briefly airborne boat fails to defy gravity. One such moment seems to have caused the toilet lid to sheer off its plastic mounting studs. Normally a loose toilet lid wouldn't cause any major distress, but on this particular design the lid seals and is integral to the flushing mechanism. Until the wind calms down and I have a chance make good a repair with some trusty epoxy resin I guess it's going to be "bucket it and chuck it".

I'm still slowly converging with the others - I'm 50 miles closer to the waypoint than the fleet, though still over 100 miles from the closest boat.

Having quickly consumed all the pineapples I set sail with, I've been eagerly waiting for my mangoes to ripen and today I could wait no longer. What a treat, a perfect juicy tasty mango - now the race is on the eat the rest before they over-ripen.

On the fishing front it's been a day of much excitement. The first bite occurred soon after dawn just as I started downloading my email and discovered I had bumper inbox - thanks to all those who have written. I thought the fish could wait while I fussed over the slow connection, but by the time I'd finished downloading, the line was slack. With the second bite I must have hooked a monster; all the line raced out before I could make it to the reel and took the lure with it. Third time lucky. I'd just started giving my position on the evening radio net, when the line started whizzing out. Determined to not miss this time, I excused myself and landed a nice fat tuna, making it back to the radio in time to hear the weather and wind speculation.

Overall the day has passed surprisingly quickly, I guess when everything takes twice as long to do, time vanishes twice as fast.

Position @ 12:00 (GMT+5), 18/02/2009: N9deg 55' E063deg33'
Distance to Gulf of Aden: 432
Engine Hours: 0
Daily run: 113

Indian Ocean relaxation

It is another beautiful sailing day in the Indian Ocean, though I'm not setting any speed records. The others in the convoy are slowly catching up, they've gained 10 miles over the last 24 hours, but I'm still 80 miles ahead; I figure it'll be easier to slow down, than to speed up if I need to.

I still seem to be south of the shipping - the radar detector has been incredibly quiet since leaving Male' - I've never known such an empty ocean. Even though my daily plots show I'm getting close to the Gulf, I feel like I'm so used to seeing nothing but ocean stretching out to the horizon, that it's going to be strange seeing land or even ships breaking into the otherwise flat vista.

Again no exciting fishing news to report - three days now without a bite - could be time for a radical rethink tomorrow.

Position @ 12:00 (GMT+ 5), 17/02/09: N8deg 40' E064deg 59'
Distance to Gulf of Aden: 545
Engine Hours: 0
Daily run: 92

Convoys

I inadvertently broke my self-imposed puritanical ocean passage ban on alcohol today. I made a rice-pudding in which the recipe called for 1 cup of raisins pre-soaked in rum. When cooked, it turned out well, so one bowl led to another and before I knew it I was inelegantly groping for hand-holds out of keeping with the smooth sailing conditions. I ended up laying down for 5 minutes "rest" and promptly fell asleep, waking up an hour later feeling a little steadier. Talking of which, I've passed close to an area of the sea marked on the chart as the "Carlsberg Ridge" - could this be a cunning corporate sponsorship deal with mapping agencies designed to send thirsty sailors' minds spinning, or could it have been that the founders of the namesake brewery were incapacitated with seasickness in the vicinity and recognised similar effects from their brew..

It's been an easy sailing day. There's been a gentle trade wind blowing all day and we've been making 3-4 knots. The great news is the wind has veered to the NE, so I can ease the sails slightly and still make my course. All hatches are open again, and sheets aired. I'm not setting any speed records, but it makes for very relaxed sailing.

I've made contact with boats further north, who are heading in convoy into the gulf of Aden. I'm slowly converging with them, and plan to join the convoy before we enter the active pirate zone. So I've changed my waypoint to match the one they're heading for. The new waypoint is 300 miles closer so it feels like I'm making great progress.

As it was so calm I tried to resuscitate my camera after water leaked into the "water-proof" case. It seemed to work again when partially disassembled, but when a gust caused the contents of my work surface to shift dramatically to the side, I moved onto another project.


Position @ 12:00 (GMT+5), 16/02/2009: N7deg 23' E065deg35'
Distance to Gulf of Aden: 637
Engine Hours: 0
Daily run: 85

Return of the acrobatic dolphins

The days are developing a pattern; check email, organize meals, tune into the radio net, perform boat checks, make essential repairs, listen into the BBC news, interspersed by reading and boat projects if there's enough time. The rhythm is occasionally punctuated by moments of excitement such as today's acrobatic dolphin visit or the whizzing of the fishing reel, announcing a potential change of menu. The dolphin visit was incredible, one dolphin performing back flips and tail slaps until finishing its stunning display with three cartwheels - amazing.

The sea and wind have eased a little making for some of the best ocean sailing I've had, although it would be even better if the wind would veer from NNE to NE or even better the E, allowing me to ease the sheets and sail at a less precarious angle.

Position @ 12:00 (GMT+5), 15/02/2009: N6deg 39' E067deg08'
Distance to Gulf of Aden: 990
Engine Hours: 0
Daily run: 137

Arrival of the wind

What a difference a day makes. Gone is the lethargic wind of yesterday and in its place a 15 knot trade wind has finally established itself.

There are a few hours between dusk and the moon rising when there's only star light. What a fantastic display. The southern cross is still visible although it's tilted on its side and heading towards the horizon as I climb the latitudes. After marvelling at the stars for a while I decided I should try to understand my potential foes a little better and what better way than watching a DVD of "Pirates of the Caribbean". The almost total darkness outside and the slow rolling progress of the boat seemed to add to the atmosphere. Almost perfectly timed for the end of the film, the wind picked up and it was time to take the electronics down. Books can dry out - electronics and salt water aren't best of bedfellows as my newly dead camera can attest to after the "waterproof" case leaked.

The wind-vane steered throughout the night at a steady 3 knots and at dawn this morning the wind increased again since when we've been speeding along 6-7 knots almost in the right direction! It's a relief to be making decent progress again - even without a deadline to aim for.

The fishing line is out again as I'm finishing off the Tuna in Ceviche this evening (thanks Mata'irea for the recipe).

Position @ 12:00 (GMT+5), 14/02/2009: N5deg 47.3' E 69deg17.1'
Distance to Gulf of Aden: 1127
Daily run: 95
engine: 4 hours

Waiting for the wind

Almost on cue, as I watched the sunset and pondered which can to open for dinner, out ran the fishing line. The result, a small tuna in the fridge - perfect for a couple of meals. Apart from this dusk excitement, it's largely been a day of inactivity; the wind has died, the sea is almost mirror calm and Kika has been drifting slowly West.

One benefit of flat sea is any slight disturbance in the surface is easily visible. A school of dolphins broke the calm some distance off, but they remained fishing and didn't seem interested in socialising with boats. As we drifted along lots of small green fish swam along with the boat I watched them for a while expecting to see some larger predators arrive, but their lives remained undisturbed and my fishing line inactive.

Although I don't have an immediate deadline, I could only take so much inaction from the sails and just after midday my resolve to avoid using the engine cracked and on it went. A few minutes later, ripples began to disturb the surface of the ocean. Ah wind at last. Off went the engine, and I set the sails and for a minute or so I had a satisfying sail, only for the wind to die and the sea return to its glassy hue. I repeatedly alternated sailing attempts with motoring, constantly being fooled by a flicker of wind disturbing the surface, and many optimistic attempts to sail only ending in disappointment and the engine. Eventually I'd had enough, I set the autopilot, ignored the fickle winds and let the engine take the strain. Life is so much easier with a working autopilot in light winds.

The little wind there is is blowing from the NNW, not the anticipated NE. The result is I am struggling to make enough distance to the north. If the wind continues in this direction I'll end-up on the east-coast of Somalia. After much effort I managed to download a forecast showing a slight increase in speed and improved direction over the next few days. Here's hoping.

One Maldivian fly survived all attempts at eradication. The spray ran out so I had to rely on more mechanical forms of pest control and finally cornered it in on the chart table. Perhaps I've found my new calling - pest eradication.

Position @ 12:00 (GMT+5), 13/02/2009: N4deg 49.8' E 70deg34.6'
Distance to entrance Gulf of Aden: 1222

Setting sail for the Gulf of Aden

I set sail at 2.30pm for the 1550 nautical mile passage into the Gulf of Aden, with near perfect conditions; a flat sea, gentle breeze and clear skies. If the wind had been a little more from the North-East rather than the North the conditions would have been ideal. Still with the sails sheeted in tight, and a full moon guiding me, I cleared the north of Ari Atoll and the last of the potentially treacherous coral a little after midnight and headed into the empty expanse of the Indian Ocean.

I'd intended to set off first thing in the morning, but last-minute pre-passage preparations took up the morning including... spending the last of my Maldivian money, making yoghurt, engine checks, cleaning and stowing the dinghy, finalising a cunning pirate avoidance route, stowing the folding bike, securing all below deck, cleaning out the fridge, checking the weather forecast, emptying the bilge and final attempted repairs to the electronic self-steering. These were just the last minute items, I'd been preparing to leave over the last couple of days; restocking with food, refilling the water tank, downloading podcasts and checking out of the country with help from Amead our agent. As ever there were lots of items that fell off the list, including uploading photos to the blog and writing up our Maldivian adventures. I'll endeavour to complete the write-up over the next few days, but the photos will have to remain unpublished until I reach an internet connection, probably in Aden.

The only other item marring the start of the trip was a sudden infestation of flies as I sailed along the southern coast of Male'. Fortunately I was a little more prepared than last time and liberally fumigated the boat with my Chinese fly spray, reducing their numbers. A few robust individuals appear to have immunity to the spray so guess it'll take a few days until I manage to entirely eliminate my uninvited passengers.

Sadly for David the tourist diversions in Male' ran out after a couple of days and he found the time waiting for our return, trying. So much so that he decided to head home. So I'm starting this trip with a degree of trepidation; I'll be single-handed for nearly two weeks and heading into a renowned pirate zone. Still on a more positive note, the northern Indian ocean is known for its benign conditions, since I left the Maldives the radar detector hasn't located any other boats, and the navies of the world have defined a patrolled safe transit corridor through the Gulf of Aden. What most concerns me however is that I'll return to my feral ways, undoing two weeks of Kristin's civilising influence.

Position @ 12:00 (GMT+5) N4deg 37.2' E071deg 50.2'

Krstin arrives

Incredibly the plan came together, I made it to the airport with time to spare for Kristin's delayed flight from Oslo. Kristin eventually emerged frustrated that the selection of the best of European alcohol she'd brought with her from Scandinavia had to be abandoned on the plane as she'd been given false information at the duty free. Maldives have strict laws prohibiting the import of alcohol, pork products and dogs. She was somewhat consoled when she realised the Kika alcohol situation wasn't as desperate as she'd imagined - with rum that's lasted since Panama and gin from Samoa.

Unfortunately my efficiency hadn't managed to overcome Maldivian or perhaps just Male' bureaucracy and we were still waiting for our cruising permit. Amead promised it the next day, but was himself defeated by the various government departments required to scrutinise such requests. The expensive permit finally arrived on Tuesday afternoon and disappointingly stated we were allowed to visit only resort islands within Male' Atoll. Not exactly the freedom I'd hoped for, but an indication of the control the government likes to extend to free-roaming yachts. Still there was plenty to do to fill our time while waiting, with Male' to explore, stores to take onboard and Kiribati's homemade pizza to enjoy. David had "volunteered" to stay in a hostel for the first couple of days after Kristin's arrival and we quickly decided we enjoyed having the boat to ourselves, so we negotiated to subsidise David's stay in Male' while we explored the islands.

We eventually set off full of the finest fruit and veg Male' could provide and having to commandeer areas of the boat never before used for fresh storage. I was unusually apprehensive - I hadn't managed to find much information on cruising the Maldives and the little I had found indicated deep anchorages off resorts requiring yet more permission to anchor off their island. That and the charts aren't terribly reliable. Our chart of Male' Atoll stated:

"The depiction of reefs and dangers within the atolls is based on satellite imagery and aerial photography. Depths within the atolls are taken almost entirely from lead-line surveys of 1835, therefore many uncharted dangers may exist. Mariners should navigate with extreme caution."

Still it was a relief to set sail again, although my carefully crafted coral dodging course to our first night's anchorage had to be immediately abandoned as the wind was blowing from our destination. When I meekly suggested we could motor instead of sail, Kristin wasn't happy - "isn't Kika a sailing boat, can't we tack". Not used to such enthusiasm from my crew, I happily agreed to beat into the wind while keeping a sharp look-out of coral in our path.

Our first night's anchorage was off the local industrial island of Thulusdhoo - not exactly an island taken from the tourist brochures of the Maldives, but a gentle acclimatisation to island cruising after busy Male'. With little information and unreliable charting we struggled to find the break in the reef surrounding the island until from a distance we spotted another yacht. There must be an entrance around there I confidently predicted, my surety rapidly crumbling as we closed in on the listing boat firmly aground on the coral. Fortunately not too much further north I spotted a couple of poles and was lucky enough to be able to follow a local ferry in through the reef and find a secure anchorage just before dark.

Thulusdhoo: N04deg 22.6' E073deg 38.9'
-------------------------------------------------

Arrival in Male'

We had the perfect start to our last day at sea when a large school of dolphins swam with us for a good twenty minutes. It was as though they were an advanced welcoming party increasing our anticipation of our imminent landfall. We also saw large "flocks" of flying fish skimming across the water promising larger predators beneath the surface and for a while it looked as though we'd arrive with the fridge stuffed full of fresh fish. We lost the first fish as we reeled it in, the second was a monster, quickly running out all our line against a high drag and finally disappearing with the short-lived but successful squidski. Unfortunately re-rigging the line with a new squid failed to lure any more fish.

From a few miles off, Male' looked like a mini Singapore, densely packed high-rise buildings appearing to emerge straight from the water. The feeling was enhanced as we made our way to the packed anchorage on the more sheltered west side of the island; reminiscent of the busy anchorages on the south coast of Singapore.

With our tripping line readied we were prepared to try our luck on the 15m coral patch we'd learned was the only viable option for yachts, but as we approached the shallower water, we spotted another yacht further north in the anchorage. Hoping to glean valuable inside information about the check-in procedure we headed towards them. Unfortunately when they spotted us, they were hoping we might be able to help them! The Italians on Kiribati had arrived early that morning and were struggling to find an agent who would manage the check-in procedure for them. They'd tied themselves to the back of a large Omani fishing vessel and offered to take our lines.

Strung behind Kiribati

Once we'd strung ourselves behind Kiribati they filled us in on the situation. The next two days, Friday and Saturday were holidays, if we didn't manage to check-in today we'd have to wait until Sunday unable to leave the boat. It was now 4pm and as they'd been trying to wake up the bureaucratic machine ashore since the morning, the situation wasn't looking promising. We attempted to make contact with the authorities via the VHF, but couldn't raise any response. As we discussed the situation, over our first beer since leaving Thailand, the situation started to improve. With much Italian gesticulation Marco eventually contacted a couple of agents ashore via his mobile. Initially they quoted eye-wateringly outrageous figures for their services, but eventually we settled on a merely ridiculous price, although we doubted that they'd turn up as promised at 18.30. Incredibly the arrangement worked and after much form-filling and stamping - the Kika stamp being a requirement here to validate crew-lists and ship's papers copies - we were free to go ashore.

It was Marco's birthday, their dinghy had a puncture, so I offered to take the four of us (David staying onboard to catch-up on sleep) ashore for celebrations. It hadn't really sunk in before, that the Maldives are a strict Moslem country, so no alcohol is served, (unless in a tourist enclave) with the law appearing to be particular rigorously applied in Male'. Still we did our best to toast Marco's birthday raising our glasses of water over our Maldivian feast.

Position @ 15:00 (GMT +5) 22/1/2008: N4deg 10.7' E73deg 29.8'
Distance covered from Thailand to Maldives: 1550
Total time: 10days 0hours
Average speed: 6.45knots
Engine hours: 0.5hours

Squidski delivers

It's been a perfect day's sailing. Decent wind, with an accompanying moderate sea; perhaps the much anticipated Indian Ocean "pleasant passage making" conditions have arrived unannounced. We caught a decent sized mahi-mahi in time for supper, my first mahi-mahi since crossing the coral sea to Australia. Supper was a real treat; fresh fish, accompanied by coleslaw and lightly fried potatoes. We have the ocean to ourselves, no fishing boats and the radar detector has remained quiet.

I spent the day researching and preparing for our landfall. We have a freshly painted Maldivian flag ready for hoisting, and some idea of the check-in procedure. Anchoring off Male' for check-in appears problematic with 50m depths. The trick seems to be to anchor off the west side on a coral head in 15m making sure the anchor has a tripping line attached. We'll see... We're hoping to arrive just before midday tomorrow. The Male' check-in sounds a little bureaucratic with most boats avoiding Male' and stopping instead at Uligamu in the north which appears to have stream-lined its procedures. We've been told we need to provide seven copies of the crew list. I naively thought the ten copies I made in Phuket would last me into the Mediterranean...

It's becoming harder to make a decent connection for sending and receiving emails. We're moving out of range of the station in Brunei 2108 miles east and the Red Sea station 2930 miles WNW isn't yet close enough. I guess it's not going to get any easier for the next 500 miles or so...

Position @ 23:00 (GMT +5) 21/1/2008: N4deg 24.4' E74deg 48.6'
Distance to Maldives: 78
Daily run: 154

Return of the wind

With the genoa furled and the main secure, we let Kika drift through the night, while we caught up on some sleep. Just after 5am the wind returned and once again we could make decent progress towards the Maldives. Not only we were refreshed, but overnight the current had taken us 9 miles more of less in the right direction.

The wind and sea quickly built until by mid-morning we were once again careering along under a double-reefed main. It's amazing how quickly conditions can change from smooth windless ocean to roller-coaster ride in under four hours. It's hard to believe it's the same sea.

It seems that the waves sense when I've wedged myself in my favourite corner of the cockpit. No sooner have I started reading, than slap, a wave breaks over the boat and soaks me and my book. Today's drenching was the third in three days. I'm still searching for a new comfortable, shaded, dry location; perhaps under a tree somewhere!

In a slight change from the advertised plan we're heading further south towards Male' the capital of the Maldives, to pick-up "Kika Sailing Adventures" first repeat customer. Kristin is flying out on Sunday to join us for a couple of weeks cruising around the atols of the Maldives. If only I could persuade her to join us up the Red Sea...

Immodestly I'm awarding myself Master Chef honours today for a halfway decent loaf of bread I baked this morning. Unfortunately we finished the fresh tuna yesterday so we're back to being creative with the cans.

We've definitely escaped from the major shipping - the radar detector is silent and despite seeing a couple of fishing boats today, tonight there are no lights on the horizon, though as ever the sky is ablaze with another stunning Indian Ocean star spectacular.

Position @ 23:00 (GMT +5) 20/1/2008: N4deg 47.8' E77deg 21.3
Distance to Maldives: 232
Daily run: 127

Taunted by the wind

The wind has been playing tricks on us today. Firstly it lulled us into thinking the fabled gentle NE monsoon had settled down to its advertised 10-20kn; instead the wind and sea built overnight and by the morning it was time to put a couple of reefs in the main. Then just as we were setup for the reality of 25-30kn of wind, it changed tactics and rapidly lost strength. So we were back to full sail trying to make the most of the dying wind in a sloppy sea. As if deliberately taunting us it then shifted to the west - a head wind - so the best course we could set was SW, taking us south of our desired course, although at least it's taking us away from the busy shipping routes. As I write this 23:30, the wind has completely died and we've furled the genoa, lashed the main in the centre and decided we'll drift and catch-up on some sleep until the wind changes its mind again.

The good news is that before the wind vanished we were making excellent progress and passed our waypoint off the southern coast of Sri Lanka mid-morning. We're now on the final leg of this passage 267deg to the Maldives.

David wins the Master Chef honours today for his sterling efforts in the galley creating sushi for lunch.

Time to adjust the clocks - it's been getting lighter later and later in the mornings. Looking at our longitude we should be on Indian time GMT +5½, but having a half hour in the timezone seems unnecessarily complicated so we've adopted Pakistan and Maldivian time of +5GMT. Slowly but surely we're getting closer to home.

Position @ 23:00 (GMT +5) 19/1/2008: N4deg 49.9' E79deg 29.2
Distance to Maldives: 359
Daily run: 143

Full sails again

What a difference a day makes. The sea has calmed down, the wind has eased and for the first time in nearly a week, we've shaken out the reefs and are sailing along under full main and full genoa. It seems we've found the conditions mentioned in the pilot guide: "the NE monsoon blows at Force 4-5 (10-20kt) over most of the northern Indian Ocean making for very pleasant passage making.".

Now the ride less resembles a roller-coaster, we're able to contemplate activities other than mere survival. We spent the morning on repairs. David fixed the cockpit light and stern locker gutter, while I attempted to fix the log (speedometer) with some intricate solder work. All fixed, so now we can tell how much credit the ocean current can take for our record breaking progress. Answer: it's added between 1-2 knots to our speed.

With the easier conditions David disappeared in the galley for over an hour, emerging just before sunset with two pizzas - "meat feast" and "seafood extravaganza". They looked great and tasted even better. Then to finish a great day, the fishing line raced out, just as we were finishing our last mouthful of pizza. Finally our first catch of the trip - a small tuna. Fresh fish tomorrow...

The moon is rising later and later leaving the majority of the night to the stars, which are incredible. Surprisingly even though we're 5 degrees north of the equator the southern cross is still clearly visible. When the moon eventually appears it's a perfect half moon, aligned with the horizon.

Position @ 23:00 (GMT +7) 18/1/2008: N5deg 15.9' E81deg 50.2
Distance to Sri Lanka: 76
Daily run: 145

Nocturnal drenching

For the last few days we've been sailing across the ocean swell. Once an hour or so, a wave will rear-up and crash against the side of the hull. You can normally hear the rush of water then the slap as the wave hits and have just enough time to duck before the resulting spray arrives in the cockpit. This evening I wedged myself behind the wheel, normally a dry location, at the start of my three hour stint on night-watch. I'd just started reading when, without the usual warning, the drenching commenced. This wasn't the usual spray, instead it felt as though someone had set a fire-hose on me and went on and on. Eventually the water stopped, I could take a breath again, and found myself knee deep in water still holding the now pulped remains of my book. The cockpit drains were doing their best, but still taking an agonisingly long time to clear the water. Fortunately most of the hatches were closed, so the cabin remained relatively dry, until I squelched down the companionway to find a towel and change of clothes.

It wasn't a relaxing night. All night boats crossed our path. Fortunately most kept a respectful distant, but there were a couple that felt a little too close for comfort and required a change in course to avoid.

At dawn we studied the chart - how to escape from what felt like a major shipping route. It appeared that the traffic was heading from the Red Sea via the south coast of Sri Lanka and making for the Malaka straight via the Great Channel we'd passed through a few days earlier. We could have chosen a pass further north in the Nicobar islands that I think would have kept us out of the traffic - still it's easy to be retrospectively wise. Instead we've chosen to head further south and so far the plan seems to be working; we see an occasional boat to the north, but no longer feel like a rabbit caught in the middle of a major highway.

So far we've had strong winds 25kt+ making for a fast, sometimes exhilarating, but also tiring passage. The conditions haven't been exactly as anticipated; the pilot guide describes: "This passage uses the NE monsoon to cross from SE Asia to the Red Sea. Mostly the NE monsoon blows at Force 4-5(10-20kt) over most of the northern Indian Ocean making for very pleasant passage making." Still at least we're not becalmed.

As ever, we've a bunch of bananas which have all over-ripened at the same time. Today's solution - banana cake with dried cranberries and pine-nuts. Delicious and it seems to be keeping the mutinous crew quiet about the continued lack of fresh fish.

Position @ 23:00 (GMT +7) 17/1/2008: N5deg 17.9' E84deg 15.5
Distance to Sri Lanka: 221
Daily run: 162

Mutinous crew

Friday morning, the crew were looking mutinous:
"It's not happening like", muttered David.
"What", I replied, trying not to sound too apprehensive.
"We've had that squid out for three days and only one bite to show for it. It's not right!"
Relieved that David was only worried about our omega 3 intake, I decided it was time to act.

Fortunately I've never understood the meaning behind the phrase "A bad workman blames his tools", so had no trouble identifying tiger squid as the problem. However it's easy to identify a problem but acting on it can be tricky, especially when you have to tell someone they're not performing. I tried to break the news to tiger squid in a way which hopefully, after the initial shock, he can use to become a better squid. So I started by telling him how much we value his contribution, that he never complains just gets on with the job, but we'd been studying his productivity recently, and the current harsh economic climate, we can't afford any passengers. He nodded in agreement, unaware of what was coming. I went on, "sadly even though you've been a good reliable worker, and we value your innovative use of colour, we feel that it was time you looked elsewhere for someone who could better use and appreciate your skills." It was difficult to tell how he took it, as we were interrupted at the critical moment by a breaking wave. I think he understood, although he raised doubts that we'd do any better with another squid. I also heard him muttering as he went back into the box, "What more can your expect from me than offering myself up for daily slaughter, if only the captain had a clue what he was doing...".

Fortunately I've found some other willing workers - Squidski and friends from Warsaw, who assure me they'll have no problem bringing in the fish.

Apart from problematic fishing, the boat came to a juddering halt this morning. Then there was a bang, bang, bang along the starboard side and I raced to the stern to see a tree trunk emerge in our wake. No harm done, thought we've probably lost some anti fouling paint.

Despite our lack of success with our trailing line, flying-fish seem to be happy to land on deck overnight. This morning's count was four. We're not desperate enough to eat them yet, but give it a few more fish-free days....

Position @ 23:00 (GMT +7) 14/1/2008: N5deg 42.0' E86deg 58.4
Distance to Sri Lanka: 383
Daily run: 177.9

Acrobatic dolphins

It's been an exciting day. We've left the confused waters of the Andaman sea well behind us and in exchange we've been surfing down the large swells in the Indian Ocean. Added to which we've had a decent wind and have been making great progress. It's not the most comfortable ride, but exhilarating, surfing down the waves and watching the speed frequently break the 10 knot barrier. So much so that we've beaten our 24 hour distance record, making 182.7 nautical miles in 24 hours.

We also had our second dolphin visit of the trip. Today's visit was special - I don't remember having wild dolphins put on such an acrobatic show solely for our benefit. Today's school entertained with synchronized jumps clear of the water, shooting out of breaking waves, tail stands and back flips. The show lasted for 15 minutes, with one straggler staying on after the school had departed for a final encore of back flips. Stunning.

David's brief period of seasickness is well behind him, with a tricky juggling act in the galley resulting in a couple of great salads for lunch. It's not quite "master chef" competitive cooking yet, but I'll have to make sure I deliver the goods after a couple of dubious dishes.

This evening the wind's shifted, we're now on my favourite point of sail - a beam reach. The motion is a lot easier - less rolling and we're still hurtling west.

Position @ 23:00 (GMT +7) 14/1/2008: N5deg 52.9' E89deg 56.5
Distance to Sri Lanka: 560.9
Daily run: 182.7

Farewell Andaman Sea, hello Indian Ocean

It's been a day of contrasts as we've moved from the Andaman sea into the Indian Ocean. The day started with a rainy squall, requiring a couple of reefs in the main and a free shower in the process. As we approached the "Great Channel" between the Nicobar Islands and Sumatra, the concentration of shipping increased, we were seeing at least a couple of ships an hour - unnerving the way they suddenly loomed out of the rain. The Andaman roller coaster ride continued adding challenge to the couple of gybes we made to deal with the shifting wind direction in the channel.

As we left the Andaman sea, the seas became noticeably more regular and the wind increased - now at last some exhilarating sailing as we sped across the relatively calm ocean with a strong tail-wind leaving the rain behind us. The contrast in sea conditions and comfort levels is incredible.

Some excitement as the fishing line raced out this afternoon, only to lead to disappointment as we landed a large plastic sheet.

We continued our tastes of the World cuisine, moving to Mexico for lunch as we used the reminder of the spag-bol topped with coleslaw in Taco shells. Not convinced by Taco shells - far too fiddly and messy to prepare on a rolling boat. This evening we moved back to Italy for spaghetti carbonara - unfortunately I seem to have forgotten the tricks we were taught by Stephania in New Zealand. She taught us carbonara the Roma way - is there any other? Unfortunately this evening mine was more spaghetti with scrambled eggs and bacon - edible but not from Roma.

It's a star filled night, with plenty of shipping around adding interest to tonight's watches.

Position @ 23:00 (GMT +5) 14/1/2008: N6deg 01.9' E93deg 00.0'
Distance to Sri Lanka: 743.6
Daily run: 168.4

Andaman roller coaster

David's gentle introduction is over, the wind has found us and we're speeding along on a dead run. The Andaman sea is full of surprises. One moment we're rolling along on regular ocean swells, the next we're being violently thrown around in a heavily confused sea - as though there's suddenly a large current opposing the trade wind. After 10 minutes or so, we sail out the other end with a well defined transition back to gentle ocean swells. There's nothing on the chart to indicate these abrupt areas of overfalls, it's all very mysterious. I'm afraid first thing this morning, it was a little too much for David, who had a second taste of his breakfast. Although to compensate he spotted a turtle while leaning over the rail.

Eventually I found an entry in the pilot guide which shed some light on this unusual phenomenon: "In the Andaman Sea there will often be upwelling currents producing a strange choppy sea in defined areas" - so now we know!

I'm sure the suddenly confused seas aren't helping, but it seems to be taking longer than usual to adjust to the rhythm of being at sea again.

The wind has been varying in strength; at times we're surfing down waves making fantastic progress, the next the sails are flogging as there's insufficient wind to keep them filled in the swell.

After an appropriate mourning period, pink squid has been replaced by tiger squid. It's early days, but already our new lure is showing promise with a single bite today. Once we finish of the remains of today's spag-bol, we'll be expecting tiger to deliver some fresh protein.

Position @ 23:00 (GMT +5) 13/1/2008: N6deg 51.6' E95deg 41.6'
Distance to southern Nicobar islands: 111
Daily run: 134

1550 miles to the Maldives

Today we said farewell to wonderful Thailand, home of amazingly friendly people where a small grin elicits dazzling smiles in response, tasty food and the perfect location for migratory guests. It was a great energy boost having Ian and Kristin visit and taking a holiday from the trip. The 3+ weeks they were with me seemed to fly-by; one moment it felt like I had months to relax in Thailand, then suddenly the scramble was on to prepare the boat and find crew for the next part of the trip. It would have been perfect if Kristin or Ian could have been persuaded to join me for all or part of the trip to the Mediterranean, but they're both too conscientious to quit their jobs at a moment's notice and join my nomadic lifestyle. Still, I've been lucky and found crew. Welcome onboard "our David from Leeds". Assuming we're still speaking once we've navigated the waters of the Indian Ocean, we'll be continuing up the Red Sea and braving the infamous pirate alley.

This morning started with the urgent sound of shrouds banging against masts echoing around the anchorage indicating that the forecast drop in wind wasn't forthcoming. Cautiously we left the anchorage with a couple of reefs in the main. As ever the sound was more intimidating than the reality and once clear of land we shook out the reefs and set a course to the southern Nicobar Islands, making steady progress in a falling wind. Our passage to the Maldives is divided into a three parts, firstly SW 277 miles to Nicobar islands. Sadly we're not allowed to stop there - the Indian administered islands are off-limits to sailors. One reason given is that the indigenous people resist all outside influences. Allegedly in one small island, North Sentinel, "the 150 inhabitants fiercely resist all contact with the outside world. As soon as a government boat - with administrators and/or anthropologists - tries to land, they are met with arrows and stones. So far, nobody has dared to venture ashore". After dodging the flying spears of the Nicobar islands we steer WSW 800 miles to Sri Lanka and finally NW 470 miles to Uligamu in the northern Maldives, our first planned stop.

So far we've had varied conditions giving a gentle introduction for David. Downwind sailing, followed by a brief calm, followed by a wind reversal, followed by a heave-to as we tried to unsuccessfully untangle the fishing line which had wrapped itself around the propeller while we circled while chasing the wind. Finally settling into a pleasant fine reach and altering course briefly for the Singaporean container ship "Vasco da Gama". There's been much to take-in with a crash course in identifying ships at night from their light patterns, the vagaries of the wind-steering and sail trim. Still it hasn't all been hard work, with a dolphin visit and plenty of flying fish skimming across the waters.

This evening we're mourning the loss of pink squidy - he had a brief but busy life luring a couple of barracudas onto our hook over Christmas and although loosing some tentacles in the process, he was looking promising for the trip ahead.

Tonight we ate my version of Thai Chicken Tom Yam in the almost complete darkness that quickly overtakes the tropical sunset and before the moon manages to make an appearance. Impossible to see what we were eating, though fortunately on passage the taste counts more than the presentation.

Position @ 23:00 (GMT +5): N7deg31.6' E97deg50.2'
Distance to southern Nicobar islands: 245