117. MIA

It’s been more than half a year since I posted something in this blog. Six months, five countries and roughly four thousand nautical miles ago. I can’t really tell you why I haven’t written anything. It’s not like I don’t have enough material, I have enough to write a book about islands in the Indian Ocean. I guess I just haven’t felt like it. And the Tomas 2.0 version of me generally tries avoid doing things he doesn’t feel like. To the extent that the boys that crossed the Atlantic with me back in 2021 bought me a t-shirt saying – I don’t want to, I don’t have to, You can’t make me, I’m retired!

So now that I, for some reason, have found the inspiration to once again document reflections from my travels, I thought I’d start by bringing you up to speed with where I am and how I got here. Something that I normally don’t find that interesting. I prefer to write about a topic like solo sailing, ocean weather, biases or corruption. But hey, I’ve been MIA for half a year and several of you have asked for an update.

My last entry was from back in Gan in the Addu Atoll, as far south as you can get in the Maldives. Gan also serves as a port of entry/exit and it has something as unusual as a resort that welcomes riffraff like cruisers. The Equator Village Resort has clearly seen better days and I doubt that we would have been let in when it was in its prime. But with a war going on in the Persian Gulf, the resort was almost empty and survived on serving Sri Lankan beer and wine that resembled a paint stripper to a clientele that would have been beneath their standards under normal circumstances. A clientele that also included an enterprise financed by Nigel Farage and a few wealthy similar minded UK nationalists attempting to populate the Chagos Islands with descendants of a population evicted in the 1960’s. In an effort to throw a spanner in the works of UK’s plan to hand over an otherwise empty island chain to Mauritius. I’m not going stick my neck into this infected debate but I don’t think that handing it over to Mauritius necessarily is a good idea. But repopulating the islands with people that have never been there feels like the right wing equivalent of gluing yourself to an airport runway. All I hope is that the new Chagossians won’t be forgotten when the world inevitably shifts its focus. To me they felt like sacrificial pawns in a game they didn’t understand. The main concern during my stay in Gan was that Farage et al were declined re-entry to the islands and to get supplies to the six that had been dumped on a deserted beach. Several cruisers were asked to ’help out’, but as far as I know everyone declined as getting caught no doubt could cause a lot of problems.

I decided to sail past Chagos and go directly to Seychelles. A small island nation that is the wealthiest country in Africa. Primarily due to high end tourism. It is also considerably more expensive than most cruising destinations. In fact, many call it ’Paychelles’. But I have to say that it was so nice to come to an open society. I really can’t put a price on freedom. Heck, my boat is called freedom. In Gaelic. Maldives may be one of the most beautiful places I have seen. Below seal level. It may have some of the best snorkelling and dive spots in the world but, as I wrote in my previous post, it’s far from free. Unless you have gills.

Seychelles is known as the Garden of Eden and prides itself on having some of the most beautiful beaches in the world, the largest population of land tortoises and to be the home of the ’Coco de Mer’. The latter being a huge coconut, shaped like a pair of testicles, that produces the largest seed in the plant kingdom. It’s affectionately called the Love Nut and is considered to be an aphrodisiac in some parts of the world. My buddy Mike on Picasso bought a perfume made from the Love Nut and could not stop talking about the effect it had on his wife Daisy

My youngest son, Daniel, also came to Seychelles and sailed with me to Madagascar after a quick stop in Mayotte to fix a problem with his wisdom tooth. I don’t really have a lot to say about Mayotte as we only stayed there for a few days. Other than that it is a French territory and as such it was a great place to provision and to eat out. I have a lot more to say about Madagascar where I stayed close to three months. Way too much to cover here. I will write a separate piece about this gem and at this stage just say that it is one of the most fascinating countries that I have ever visited. Truly mind blowing!

Next it was time to cross the Mozambique Channel to the African mainland. To Mozambique itself. A country recovering from a civil war that claimed over a million lives and with an ongoing Islamist insurgency in the north. And indeed the only nation with a flag featuring a modern day weapon. Not a sword or a knife, a Kalashnikov machine gun. Clearly a country where you want to stay clear of anyone in uniform so the small fleet of cruisers that sought refuge from strong southerly winds decided to turn off all AIS trackers and hide at a cruiser friendly resort of sort. Far from any authorities and almost any other form of civilisation.

When the southerly winds had settled, we had a two and a half day window to make it to Richards Bay in South Africa before we would get strong southerlies again. A 400 nautical mile dash where we would have to average roughly 7 knots to get to safety in time. A tall order but we all felt comfortable in that we would make it as we could count on the assistance of a current. And I would have made it. Had it not been for my trusty engine giving up on me 32 miles from safety. Before leaving Mozambique I borrowed four jerry cans of diesel from a cruising buddy. Cans that I decided to top up my main tank with as I was approaching Richards Bay. Only to find the engine stalling on me. I immediately got started working on the engine, confident that I would get it going again. But with a storm approaching, I reluctantly accepted the offer of assistance from the local search and rescue operation. So I arrived in Richards Bay, in style, towed by Rescue 19. A five hour tow that made the local news paper. And at the end of the day it turned out to be the right decision to accept the help as the diesel cans that I borrowed turned out to contain petrol rather than diesel and there is no way that I would have been able to get the engine going again. Not without the spare diesel can that I could have used to bypass the normal fuel system. So I guess the lesson learnt is to always keep a spare diesel can. And to not be so stubborn when help is offered.

https://www.citizen.co.za/zululand-observer/news-headlines/local-news/2026/10/29/solo-sailor-rescued-offshore-st-lucia

That pretty much brings us up to date. Saoirse is moored at the Zululand Yacht Club, the first marina I’ve been in since Langkawi in Malaysia a year ago. I’ll be here for another couple of weeks as I’m waiting for a new mainsail, lazybag and a new sprayhood. All I need then is a couple of weather windows that will allow me to make a couple of quick dashes down what’s the called the Wild Coast towards Cape Town. But more about that later.

In the meantime, I am committed to putting something together on Madagascar. And I promise it won’t take me six months this time. As a teaser I will leave you with a few pictures this fascinating country…