The Impiana adventure - Heineken Cape to Bahia 2009

Job well done...
31 Jan 09: After a little over 20 days of racing Andrew Findlay and the motley crew onboard the Beneteau 45f5 Impiana rejoiced with joy as they crossed the finish line in Bahia, Brazil. Job well done. Although on the final couple of days the sentimental South African entrant Voortrekker skippered by Marcello Burricks somehow found a new lease of life and sailed past them to snatch away fourth place and relegate Impiana down to fifth overall out of 10 starters in the Racing Class. This is a great result for basically a small cruising boat to be racing against internationally high profile race yachts, like Mike Slade's 100ft ICAP Leopard that took line honours 10 days ago and George David's 90ft maxi yacht Rambler that took the handicap honours. Neil Pryde's old boat Hi Fidelity now co-skippered by E De Villiers / G Sindler claimed third place a couple of days back and two boats have retired with damage. Four boats that they convincingly beat on handicap are out and out racing boats that regularly take the honours on the South African racing scene and will have to cough up a bottle of rum or two for the confident wagers they placed before the start of this Classic Race.

Impiana has only 541 miles to go for fourth overall
27 Jan 2009: For those that have not followed Andrew Findlay's adventure across the Indian Ocean to South Africa last year onboard his Malaysian registered Beneteau 45f5 Impiana may not know that they are presently running in fourth place in the Cape to Bahia Yacht Race (Formerly the Cape to Rio Race) which kicked off on Jan 10th 2009. As they had come all the way to race in this Classic event and did not want to join the cruising class and stop on the way for some sightseeing they opted for the Racing Class. Although Mike Slade's 100ft ICAP Leopard smashed the race record a week ago and George David's maxi yacht Rambler has rapped up Handicap Honours on Day 17 of the 3,330NM classic Andrew's Impiana has only 541 miles to go. Having been hampered by light winds on the last half of the race they have kept up with similar sized racing class boats and have come through unscathed from the hard going earlier. Neil Pryde's old boat Hi Fidelity now owned by E De Villiers / G Sindler claimed third place a couple of days back. There are four boats within fifty miles of each other approaching the finish line, Impiana has the lowest IRC handicap of them all. So go baby go! "Cheers, Andy"

The Impiana adventure - Preparations for the Heineken Cape to Bahia 2009

Just over two weeks after arriving in Cape Town, Impiana has been lifted out of the water and received some tender loving care to her underside.  This included a light sanding, reapplication of anti-fouling, re-fairing between the hull and keel, dropping and inspection of the rudder and associated steering gear, dismantling of feathering propeller, along with many other minor items. As the start of the cruising class fleet is only within two days, Saturday the 3^rd January, time is running out for last minute preparations.

After careful consideration, I decided to have Impiana officially weighed and this info added to her IRC revalidation. This is no easy task, keeping in mind that we have only just completed a 9,000 mile cruise across the Indian Ocean. Two days were spent emptying Impiana of everything that was not bolted down, then weighed while craning her back into the water. The reading on haul out was 12.2 tons, once all gear was removed, Impiana weighed 10.4 tons. Luckily there was an undercover area to be used for storage, and the floor area taken up with all of the bits and bobs was scary. I kept thinking, how can all of this stuff come from the boat?  The weight increase from Impiana's previous IRC document stated an empty weight of just under 10 tons, so there should be a reduction to our handicap, reflecting a heavier boat. This is mainly due to extra glass and epoxy added to Impiana's hull after osmosis repairs in 2005.

Another tactical decision I've made is to carry no headsail bigger than my Dacron #3 genoa, with an overlap of no more than 110%. Because this regatta will be mostly a downwind run, the reduction in handicap should outweigh the boat speed losses when sailing upwind. I don't have any misguided expectations of winning this event, just finishing within 21 days will be difficult enough, but gains have been pursued where-ever possible allowing a friendlier handicap, weather routing and mid ocean tactics will come into play along with the most important aspect of yacht racing, good sailing. Putting all of these variables together make for a difficult prediction, so we are trying to focus on the one sure thing... a massive party in Salvador!

Cruising class is a mix of many different boats, large classy gin palaces, modest cruisers with family and surfboards, many cruising Catamarans and a lone older French racing Trimaran. Although these boats are racing, my opinion after talking to many skippers and crew is that generally the main objective is to just get there comfortably and safely. This class has a scheduled stop over in St. Helena, a little volcanic island in the middle of the South Atlantic. Three quarters of this class is made up of the world ARC, so regatta organisers must be relieved of the World ARC's entry.

Racing class was originally to be broken up into 3 sub classes, being IRC1, IRC2 and IRC3, but recent global financial problems seem to have had an impact on regatta entries, according to race organisers. I was amazed to find that there are only 10 yachts in racing class, momentarily down to 9, but quickly replaced by another RCYC boat 'Gumption'. This famous boat, previously named 'Crocs', spent all of 08 winning local and national races within South Africa. Built by Fast yachts in Durban, this original 40 footer, now 42 with scoop and bow changes, has had many modifications during her life, the latest hardware change is an increase of her Spinnaker area, originally 140 squares, now 190!  Maybe it's the 'X factor' needed to take the cake here?

The internationally high profile race yachts, vying for line honours are 'ICAP Leopard' and a late entry 'Rambler', 100 foot and 90 foot respectively. These super maxi's were engaged in a tight tussle across the North Atlantic, which Leopard pipped, along with the record. Rambler's late entry will make for another epic battle. An interesting entry is 'Over proof' an open 30 box rule yacht with a very young crew, the youngest in fact. All four crew are around the age of 22, and upon asking the Captain Gerry his expectations, he told me 'We plan to ride Leopard's bow wave'.  Neil Pryde's old boat Hi-Fidelity is another handicap favourite, they will be hoping to stay away from whale's this time, as their previous C2B regatta resulted in a collision, rendering Hi-Fi's rudder unusable.

In conclusion, I have to say that the people I've met at RCYC have been most welcoming and kind, many of my competitors have helped freely with tools, advice and beer! Leaving Africa with Table mountain as a backdrop will be spectacular, but sailing away from close friends we have made here in Cape Town must surely make for an emotional departure.

Bon Voyage to Andy and the crew of Impiana.

Follow there progress on the C2B Race website at: http://www.heinekencapetobahia.co.za/

The Impiana adventure #5 (Richards Bay and Durban).

It didn't take very long to decide where we wanted to moor Impiana once we checked out the two options at hand for Richards Bay, Tuzi Gazi marina and the Zululand Yacht Club. Tuzi Gazi marina is surrounded by restaurants and shops, along with an up-market hotel, whereas the ZLYC has a large clubhouse, pool, grassed area, laundromat, comfortable family feel, pool table in the much frequented bar, but easily the biggest draw card about the ZLYC is the members themselves.

Just an example of the atmosphere is when Baz and I went to the bar the second time on a Wednesday night (after a club race) for a beer, we met this chap at the bar. His name was Kirsten, he was a very friendly chap, had a good sense of humour and best of all, he bought us a beer. It was only after Kirsten left that we found out he was the Commodore. A few days later he found out that I had never been to a game park, with that he offered his four wheel drive for a trip to Umfolozi game park, obviously we accepted gratefully.  We joined some more new friends to the park, a couple who recently bought a 44 foot catamaran with intentions of sailing to NZ, Rob and Ruth off Albatross, and John off a 39 foot catamaran, sailing the Cape to Bahia race with us in January. It was a long day at the park, which started at 4:30am in order to see animals waking and possibly killing/feeding, right the way through to about 6pm when we returned to the club.  Lots of bush animals and birds were sighted, from giraffes and rhino's, to eagles and vultures, with a bunch of deer in between.

One Saturday race day we piled Impiana up with some new friends and entered a race, of which we came last, but had a great day none the less. The race officer gave Impiana a kind handicap for the day, but we still couldn't be competitive, it's not who wins or loses... Trying to keep up with the drinks bought for us by the members was not easy, it seems Capt Morgan follows us wherever we go. Before leaving Port Dickson, Malaysia, I bought two fold-up bicycles, wrapped them up in large garbage bags, then managed to stow them away in the stern locker. We bust out the bikes, and ripped up Richards Bay, getting second looks all over the place. I suppose a couple of men at and over six feet in height, riding around on little bikes might appear strange, but converting a 20min walk into a 5min ride made a lot of sense. I think the general manager Charles has a poor memory, because my name was never used, I was simply called 'Kangaroo'. I have never felt more welcome at any yacht club, even the fact that I do not support the Springboks was overlooked (partially). We planned a one week stop-over in RB, well that turned out to be three weeks.

While at the bar, we met a chap whom I thought was vaguely familiar, so much so that I had to ask him. Vince was his name, and the mystery was quickly solved, he crewed aboard the old Aussie Maid in the 2006 Raja Muda. The awful regatta where Impiana snatched defeat from the jaws of victory, so now we relive the moment thanks to Vince at the ZLYC bar. Apart from the usual sheep jokes (never have understood why we get mixed up with the Kiwi's), Vince helped us out quite a lot with our preparations for the push down the coast. Another chance introduction by Vince was with Lloyd, an old sea dog who was up at RB from Durban so that his son Rudy (2^nd best laser sailor in SA) could train the local club kids with optimists. Rudy was looking to increase his sea miles, so he joined us for the trip to Durban. It was a good thing he did too, as Capt Morgan once again led Baz and myself astray. Our last night at ZLYC was pretty hectic, getting Impiana cleaned up and ready for sea always seems to sap the day away. With some hard work Baz and I made her ready just in time to jump aboard Rod's 40 foot steel boat (the name eludes me) for another club race. It's always interesting sailing on another yacht, especially one as comfortable and well equipped as this, the beers were freely distributed and eagerly consumed too. After returning the goodbyes were had at the bar, along with dinner and a multitude of drinks bought by members. At 2am, we trotted up to Impiana to start the engine and push off, but Rudy and Dillan (the young chaps joining us down to Durban) had left some lights on, meaning flat battery. Half an hour later Baz located the charger and plugged it in, another half an hour later the engine fired, so we pushed off, waving goodbye to our young mates Marco and Chris (who had led us astray at the bar) and motored out of Richards Bay. 

Once out, we hoisted 'Barky' (the little tan-bark delivery mainsail) and rode a 25 knot NE'ly breeze for about 5 hours. Our plan was to head on a course taking us along the coast, but edging further out to sea, in order to find the elusive Mozambique current.  By about 10am the wind died so quickly that Rudy woke me up, I had visions of getting slammed by a 'buster' (so called by locals because these localised coastal lows seem to bust things on boats). An anti-climax ensued, as we ended up motoring the remaining 45nm into Durban harbour, past all of the famous surf beaches and areas I knew of as a child. We never did find much of a southerly current, and at one point we had ventured 30nm offshore. Entering Durban harbour at about 5pm, still nursing a slight hangover, was both a relief and exciting. The last time I was in Durban was early 1987, over 21 years previous, where my parents built a boat that took us to Australia. After docking, Rudy and Dillan, our young sea mile hungry crew were picked up and left for home. 

After spending so much time in friendly and quiet Richards Bay, it was a complete turn around to arrive in the port of Durban, where the yacht marina (two yacht clubs sharing the same facilities, Point YC and Royal Natal YC) is opposite the very heart of the city. Since the change of government in 94, and the influx of foreign Africans (Nigerians and Mozambique'ns) into South Africa, the centre of Durban city has been a very dangerous place. The first morning walking out of the fenced international jetty, we were met by a very dodgy looking chap who approached us with a flick knife, blade pointed towards us in a not too friendly fashion. 'You wanna buy a knife?'  I continued walking and shook my head, not only because I didn't want a flick knife. One late night, after having opened a new bottle of Capt Morgan, Baz and I decided to head across the road to buy some more coke and crisps at the 24 hour petrol station. Having crossed the road, we noticed a man standing against the traffic light pole watching us, I thought this a little bit weird, so on our return I suggested we cross at an earlier point. As we approached the entrance to the marina, another man started from where the original 'watcher' was, and crossed the road directly towards us, with hands in pocket and eyes on us. This may sound like I am exaggerating, but I know what his intentions were - to mug us. We stepped up the pace and made sure he was kept in view, so nothing happened, but keeping an eye on him was interesting. He followed us into the marina (there are no security guards keeping people outside of the basin, as there are public facilities within) and as soon as we had entered the fenced off area of the international dock, he simply turned and left. I don't know what was in his pocket, possibly nothing, but then again it could easily have been a gun or a knife. Needless to say, our hearts were pounding and it took almost the entire bottle for Capt Morgan to sooth us to sleep.

Another incident which left a bitter taste, was when Baz and I got chatting to a bloke in a local night club (not the initial intention I can assure you), Henny seemed a decent guy, although he was a little aggressive, I contributed this to him telling us he was a kick-boxer. After many drinks and a cab ride via an all night burger joint, we finished with nightcaps on Impiana, something not too uncommon. Henny was offered the spare cabin, and we crashed out for the night, only to be woken early by Kim, the fridge mechanic. After spending about an hour running the engine and checking through the fridge system, Kim left with a plan to return soon.  After breakfast at RNYC, we parted ways with Henny and got ready for an appointment with Lloyd and Rudy. I noticed that a small amount of US$ had gone missing from the chart table, and although I suspected Henny, Baz rebuked me for leaving it out (which I thought was fair enough). To complete the story, Henny turned up about a few days later with a mate, about 8pm and called at us from the fence. Baz and I consulted each other and decided that if it were only for a couple of beers, there shouldn't be any harm.  Hindsight is perfect vision, and although he seemed ok, I never really felt comfortable around Henny. He and his friend drank freely from our esky (with our consent of course), and at midnight we said our goodbyes and Baz saw them out. The two of us continued with a few more rounds, then at about 1:30am we went to sleep. I was woken by Baz at about 8am, his wallet and phone were missing. After a quick search, I noticed that my iPod and two pairs of binoculars were also missing from the nav station. Although there is no proof, I know that it was Henny. We never locked ourselves inside the boat, and anyhow, he must have broken into the supposed secure international jetty fenced area. Baz was asleep, inside his cabin, with phone on charge beside his head! Henny must have opened Baz's cabin door, found him asleep, and like the US$ and iPod on the chart table, took the opportunity. A very important lesson was learnt, be very weary of any and everyone.

Old salty sea dog Lloyd and young Rudy collected us from the marina, and took us to their home for a 'braai' (BBQ). Lloyd has a lovely home, family and bar. I say bar, because it's got a beautiful feature boom with flaked mainsail upon it, sheeted in with varnished wooden blocks, all directly above his bar. We were wined and dined, met some fantastic people, watched great rugby, and generally had a blast. This again, is a side of South Africa which will forever be etched in my memory, the generosity and hospitality is second to none.  From that Braai, we met 'Filthy' who also took us around the Durban beaches and showed us a little bit of a local scene, then 'Sak-doek' (literal translation is tea-towel, called so because one sailing trip he last all caps overboard, then resorted to covering his head with a tea-towel) who picked us up and took us to his house one evening for drinks and a sumptuous meal of Springbok and Kudu (cooked by his better half Michelle). All in all, the people met in Durban were lovely, it was mainly the city centre where crime was situated.

Along with making new friends, I had the fortune of meeting up with family, some of which I had never met. My maternal Grandmothers brother and sister, their children and grandchildren, all of who were welcoming and hospitable to both myself and Baz. I think poor old Baz must have struggled to keep up with all the family relations and how we were tied together, I know I did at times. My Dads cousin and his wife drove up the coast to take us to lunch, which was very enjoyable and a great source of family info. My uncle Mikes wife, Ruth, brought a large bag of rusks which she gave us on their departure back down the coast. Rusks are hard, brittle kind of cakes I guess, they are best eaten with coffee or tea, in which the rusks can be dunked and softened prior to devouring. These rusks lasted all the way down the coast, and were perfect for night watches. My Moms cousin, Glynis, was instrumental in arranging our family visits, largely because she was retired, but I like to think that it was mainly due to the fact that we are such great guys. While visiting aboard Impiana with my great uncle Kenny (86 years old), she made a comment to Baz about wishing that she was a male, in order to join us down the coast. It didn't take Baz any time to pounce upon that comment - 'You don't have to be a male to sail! Some of the best sailors in the world are women'. Glynis asked me if she could join us, and within half an hour she had permission from her hubby (who works away a lot) to sail down the treacherous wild coast.  There was never any question about Glynis's commitment, and within two days she was aboard, had done all of the provisioning for our trip, brought a spare set of binoculars and a bunch of baseball caps, and was generally like a kid in a candy store. With the next weather window, we would tackle the much talked about wild coast, where many a ship has been sunk due to strong southerly currents against strong SW'ly cold fronts.

The Impiana adventure #4 (Madagascar and trip to South Africa).

After going through the legal formalities of checking into the country, which is hardly pleasant anywhere, and spending some time getting over the previous weeks mess, we got busy removing the forestay and taking it ashore for inspection. This required at least three dinghys, so we enlisted the services of Nono and Afani. Two local boat boys who had paddled all the way out to Impiana simply to offer their help with anything we might need. I was a little disappointed that Nono couldnt refer me to anyone named Yesyes, but in the end he proved to be very helpful. The boys brought two dinghys out and we slowly transferred the forestay to shore, a very kind group of people at a local boat yard allowed us some space to work on the stay, as well as beaching the dinghy and outboard engine safely (outboard engines are highly sought after and are stolen off boats during the night, if not locked away). The rest of the crew hired motorbikes and made a day trip of riding around the island of Nosey Be, while I got some help from Nono and Afani to dismantle the roller furling foils.

About ten sections of hollow aluminum surround the solid stainless steel rod, when furling takes place, then foil and sail both turn around two bearings fitted top and bottom of foil, while the rod doesn't give. Anyhow, about three of these sections were bent, the rod and most fittings were fine. A couple of stainless parts needed a machine shop to replace a thread and re-bend some steel, but luckily that was found in the main town of Hellville. Incidentally, Hellville was named after a French Admiral Hell, and the main street Cours de Hell (highway to hell) was renamed Rue Passot although some old street signs can still be found. Not quite sure why the street name was changed, maybe it had something to do with the road joining the port to the Catholic Church?

Hammering, beating and battering those foils straight was a painful exercise, I expected the worst section to crack and break every degree we managed to beat straight but it never did. Once I had the sections put back together onto the stay and tightened them up, I was very surprised to see that the grooves for the sail luff were in alignment, meaning that I should at least be able to haul a sail up. The next project was to get the forestay refitted, this went rather smoothly, due to the fact that Impiana has a fractional rig, where the main halyard is at least 1.5m higher than the forestay which made hoisting rather easy. Baz and Mat were very happy to delegate winch grinding duties to Nono and Afani, however, their eagerness quickly changed to heavy breathing and disinterest. Once connected again, it was discovered that the roller furler could not be used, but the headsail slid up and down the foil without any problems. New parts will be sought after in Durban, but I was very relieved to know that we were once again sea ready. With forestay up, a skip in my step, a stare and a smile every time we pass Impiana, the love affair continues.  

After a rethink regarding routes, Mayotte was rubbed off the schedule, which gave us at least another week. By this time we had been in Madagascar ten days and seen nothing other than Hellville and a little strip of bars/restaurants called Ambatalouka, where there are plenty of cold beers, good food and pretty girls. I'm not one to understate the importance of the before mentioned cold beer, good food and pretty women, and although it's not why I decided to go sailing, it seemed a damn good motive to hang around at the time. All of us had a strong desire to see the Lemur's and a few other local spots which got good reviews from a cruising pilot. The weather conditions in Nosey Be at that time was wonderful, very hot, not quite as humid as Malaysia (that would be the technical climatic term), scattered squalls and a regular 10 - 12 knot breeze. Very early in the morning, before sunrise, an Easterly breeze picks up, then by about midday it wanes and dies. Shortly after a lull, half an hour to an hour, the Westerly begins, with the same strength all through the afternoon and sometimes evening.

These consistent conditions are taken advantage of by the local fishermen, who use a very old Arab designed rig and vessel (Dhow) for transportation of good between the islands and the mainland. Without fail there is the odd dhow which miss-times the whole passage, leaving it stranded with no wind short of the bay. Out come the oars and good old fashioned elbow grease. Although I don't think a journey on one of these dhows would be very comfortable, I marvel at the simplicity and effectiveness of these primitive vessels. Sails made of potato sacks sewn together, masts and spars of small trees and bamboo, ropes that are fibrous and rough with knots all over, and finally hulls which although are aesthetically pleasing to the eye, leak rather a lot of water. There would be a number of these boats sailing in and out of Crator bay all throughout the day, quietly going about their business without the use of motors, without a raised voice (they should try racing), but all with beaming smiles and calls of 'Bolatara' ('hello' in Malagasy).

Talking to an old chap we met in Crator bay led to all sorts of cruising information and local knowledge.  Peter, a Ukranian sailor who has been on the water with various boats for the last 30 years had a mountain of info for us, where to or not to go, how to fill up the boat with water and fuel, and helpful hints for heading down the coast to South Africa, all of which was lapped up hungrily. We planned a five day cruise around the Nosey Be area, starting at an island called Nosey Komba, and it's on this island that we saw the little Lemur's. Impiana anchored in about 10m off the NE of Nosey Komba, then we jumped into the dinghy and went ashore. It was late afternoon, but we had read that there are feeding times for the Lemur's in the morning and evening. Along the way were lots of little shops and stalls selling trinkets and food, also bananas which we bought for feeding. After getting some directions from locals, we found a spot where a young couple called them for us. 'Maki-maki, maki-maki' and they came running through the trees. Lovely little creatures, with soft and delicate paws. The first time a lemur jumped onto my back was a little unnerving, but after a while it was cute having this little fur ball perched on my shoulder, taking it's time comfortably eating a banana. Lemur's make an interesting sound, presumably for means of communication, a close comparison would be a person trying to clear their nasal passage with mouth closed, try that one!

Another spot we anchored at was Russian Bay, so called because the 'Vlotny', a Russian warship, in 1905, had been sent to fight in the Russo Japanese war, but a mutiny aboard arranged another destination, Madagascar. The ship was hidden in the reaches of Russian Bay, and twice emerged to pirate trading vessels in the Mozambique channel before running out of coke for the boilers. The Russians were quickly decimated by malaria and other diseases, but a few survived to build a large dormitory which still stands. We didn't see any Russians, but there were plenty of bird and sea life around Russian bay to feed the senses. The boys did some more fishing, this time with a smaller line off the transom, but couldn't catch anything other than the little sucker fish, who like to hang out around the drain and other boat outlets. Sucker fish were not on the menu.

There were regular whale sightings while sailing the islands surrounding Nosy Be, more often than not it seemed to be two whales at a time, jumping high out of the water, almost the entire length of the whale would be out of the water, before gravity brought them crashing back with a tremendous splash. Although there were plenty of fishing boats and fishermen, the fish stocks in the area seemed abundant. None of this rubbish where European trawler ships arrive to scoop all and sundry from the oceans as in the Seychelles.

French is widely spoken in many parts of Madagascar, but not everywhere. Malagasy is the local language, with many dialects spoken throughout the country. Unfortunately my grasp of the French language is almost non existent, so sign language became the most reliable form of communication. Getting a couple of local phone numbers into my mobile was crucial to a successful visit, and along with Nono was a taxi driver named Boot's. Every time we got Boot's to take us into Hellville, which was a journey of no more than 15 minutes, he had to put some fuel into the tank. Usually 5,000 Ariary, which equated to just under 2L of petrol. I'm not really sure if Boot's car had a functioning fuel level guage, but I never once saw it above absolute minimum. Keeping cars running in Madagascar must take quite an effort, which is probably why a lot of the cars are falling apart. 

After three weeks of Madagascar, it was time to make a move and get to South Africa.  The next challenge was crossing the Mozambique channel, always a little edgy when approaching new sailing grounds, but if we can survive a forestay failure, whats the worst that could happen? - possibly only a cyclone, but this is not the cyclone season, so no worries.

A day was spent checking out, provisioning then we left Crator bay and sailed down the coast about 50Nm to a river mouth. Cruisers we came across called this spot 'honey river', and the thing to get here is honey, pure and sweet. The morning after we anchored was spent going ashore and looking to buy some of this local product. The four of us had a meal at a little restaurant, which seems to cater for the yachts which visit, then we walked into the little village. A local middle aged chap approached us and asked if we would like to have a tour of the school, of which he was the teacher. A small building with two rooms constituted the school, with tables, chairs, posters and blackboards. Very basic schooling, but enough for educating the kids towards high school, where Nosy Be was the closest. This explained why there were no teenagers around. Honey was bought, then spare rulers and pencils (bought in Langkawi at the recommendation of Brian) along with any un-needed stationary were handed over to the teacher and kids, who literally mobbed Tracey. 

Apart from another stop further down the coast, our next anchorage was Baly Bay, about 50Nm East of Cape St. Andre, our proposed launching point off the island of Madagascar. Coastal hopping is different to long passages, not only practically, but it's a very large mental barrier to overcome. As a skipper, every little thing seems to haunt you whilst attempting sleep, like the thought of a forestay coming down, or getting caught in rising seas and wind with maximum sail up, or any of a multitude of possibilities where yachts or crew can fail. Getting a short email from Capt Marty in Malaysia telling me to hurry up as a tropical cyclone was forming 600Nm East of Madagascar did not help with my sleeplessness. Frantic sending of weather information and asking friends and family to help with forecasts, while readying Impiana for the crossing left me with the unenviable decision to go, or not to go? In the end, I made the decision to go, but it was nothing more than an educated guess. Cyclones were not usually found to make a course over the top of Madagascar and then down the Mozambique channel at this time of year, BUT, that does not mean that they could not. About 8 hours was spent preparing for the worst possible weather, complete storm conditions, in an effort to thwart the Law of Sod - which states: 'If something can possibly go wrong at the worst possible time then it will'.

It was a nervous couple of days before we got the all clear from our new best friend in Thailand. Richard the 'weatherman' had been sending regular updates on the movement of the depression, along with Bazza's girlfriend in Brisbane, then my Dad in Perth became a source of good weather forecasting as we got further down, along with updates from Mark and Leslie in Port Dickson, Malaysia. It seemed as though half the world stopped, got some information about weather in Southern Africa, then sent us an email. All of this at a time when our email service provider was about to revoke our status due to over-use.  We had used too much connection time getting weather info regarding the depression behind us that we risked the situation of not being able to look ahead. Having too much information is never much of a problem, but having none certainly is, I could see the Law of Sod rearing its ugly head, so once we reached Bazaruto island, just off Mozambique it was a pleasure to anchor and get some rest. A strong SE'ly blew up to 35 knots, and the thought of pounding into that left me feeling tired, so I decided we should wait it out. We spent two nights and a day anchored inside Bazaruto island, an almost barren sand covered island, with a couple of fishing related resorts dotted across the place. Although it would have been nice to visit one or two of these resorts, the very shallow depths inside Bazaruto bay, between the island and the mainland, meant that navigating was going to be at best dodgy, and at worst a bar story. I love bar stories, but I hate being in them.

After the SE'ly became a little less aggressive, we motored out and began the journey South. I had earmarked three stops on the way down the coast, all with good shelter from the SW. Bazaruto being the first, then 140Nm South is Inhambane, followed by Inhaca island 210Nm to the SW.  After Inhaca it's a straight run for Richards Bay, another 180Nm SSW. As it turns out, after waiting for the strong SE to disperse in Bazaruto, it was clear sailing all the way to Richards Bay, without any need to stop for shelter. 

The sea life along the channel was abundant, plenty of whales and dolphins, even sharks were seen off Bazaruto island. The most amazing thing we saw was a massive school of small dolphins jumping out of the water in a spin, it was a large pod, and so many of the dolphins were spinning out of the water that it made identifying them difficult. To my uneducated eye, I found it difficult to ascertain as to whether they were dolphins, large fish, playing, feeding or simply swimming along. Either way, it was very impressive.

 We landed in Richards Bay in the afternoon of the 30^th of October, then headed straight to a restaurant after tying up for a cold beer and a burger.

The Impiana Adventure - Mozambique Channel Crossing

Position: 24deg 27.2min South by 35deg 27.7min East, as of 15:44 GMT, Tues 28 Oct.

We are just about to round Ponta Zavora, then come up 20 on the compass to 240deg. which is the heading to Inhaca island, just off Maputo, distace to waypoint is 150Nm. Currently we have 15 knot SE'ly winds (apparent), and have only just picked up a current with us. The luxury of taking time to search for the strongest currents have come second to present conditions, and the need to make haste to the next possible shelter. Last night the wind died and we motored for eight and a half hours until the SE'ly filled in again. Since then it's been nothing less than 7 knots, again with light seas... really nice sailing.

We've run out of fresh veggies, so it's down to bottled sauces with rice/pasta and depending on the mood, tuna. Luckily the vigilance with respect to the gas bottle valve being closed has allowed another batch of bread to be baked. We have been told of a great burger restaurant in South Africa called 'Steers' by Mat, it has slowly crept up everyone's order of first place's to go to when we dock. We are 307Nm from Richards Bay, and i think i can smell the burgers!
Cheers, Andy, Baz, Mat and Tracey.

Impiana - Mozambique Channel Crossing # 3

Position: 22deg 44.3min South by 35deg 47.3 East, as of 21:57 GMT, Monday 27th Oct.

Our crossing of the Mozambique channel took just under 5 days, arriving at Bazaruto island on the afternoon of Saturday 25th. There were times earlier on in the crossing when currents were flowing strongly against us, then later on strong currents on our port broadside, but never once have we seen currents with us. Even now, on the first of three coastal legs to Richards bay, at best there is no current. Just after anchoring inside Bazaruto bay, a Southerly kicked up at 25 - 30 knots, and although it dropped to 15 - 20 the next day, i decided to wait out the blow. This morning was much nicer, so we hauled anchor and set sail South with a light SE breeze which strengthened to 15 knots apparent for the entire day (and light seas too). Things have dropped off a little as i write this, 8 - 10 knots E'ly.
So, all going well, we should make Richards bay before November.
Cheers, Andy, Baz, Mat and Tracey.

Impiana Adventure - Mozambique Channel Crossing # 2

Position: 18deg 57.9min South by 40deg 18.3min East, as of 1457 GMT, Thurs 23rd Oct.

We are roughly half way across the channel, although our track is a little more diagonal than direct. There is 311nm to get to Bazaruto, at a bearing of 248deg. At the moment we are laying the waypoint, but being opposed heavily by a North bound current and the associated choppy seas. The speed instrument might be a little out, but even so - when you're doing 8 knots through the water and struggle to make 4 knots over the ground (GPS) something's up! Wind is southerly and rather strong since early afternoon, between 18-24 knots apparent, gusts coming and going.

On a lighter note, Mat seems to have perfected the recipe for making really tasty fruit loaf, using the assorted dried fruits we purchased in Langkawi. All aboard curse the timely salt spray in the face, usually when one has just cleaned up and simply want to ask something of the helmsman. The fatal error is popping one's head out of the companionway, we are all walking salt mines.

Read of a little resort/lodge on the tip of Bazaruto, there is a well protected anchorage close by, so if circumstances permit we might check it out.
Cheers, Andy, Baz, Mat and Tracey.

Impiana Adventure - Mozambique Channel Crossing # 1

Position: 16deg 23.1min South by 43deg 42.7min East, as of 10:22 GMT, Tuesday 21st Oct.

We left Baly Bay yesterday (Monday) evening, after having spent the day doing some needed maintenance and clean ups. Winch servicing, prop cleaning, storm jib fitting, sail repairs, engine service, general 'going to sea' clean up, etc...

The weather gribs that we have downloaded show nothing over 12 knots, generally from the SE. We have been told by some passing cruisers headed North that there are NW winds along the coast of Mozambique, time will tell. At the moment we have a 12knot NE'ly, on a dead run headed for Bazaruto (235deg), doing 5 knots over ground with just the main. Sick and tired of the flogging induced by sloppy seas. 65nm NE of Juan De Nova island, but i think we'll pass by, as the race clock is ticking and there are lot's of things to get done in SA. Would like to be in Richards bay by this months end. On our last gas tank too, out of three. Should last us to the end of the month, but rationing has been implemented. Filling a flask whenever kettle is boiled is a good one, funny how one only thinks of conserving when it's too late. Mat has refined his fruit loaf baking technique to a fine art, it's awesome! I wondered how we were going to get rid of that dried fruit bought in haste. We also extended our weather search to look behind us, as Marty warned of a possible incoming cyclone to Northern Madagascar. Make hay while the sun shines i say, and get the hell outta dodge!
Until later, cheers for now, Andy, Baz, Mat and Tracey.

Impiana Adventure - Madagascar

Position: 15deg 58.0min South by 45deg 17.2min East, as of 20:14 GMT, Sunday 19th Oct.

We have just anchored in Baly Bay, having sailed 185nm from our last anchorage further up the coast, Nosy Ovy. We are now roughly 330nm from the northern tip of Madagascar, and only 60nm from Cape St.Andre, where we will launch off from this island and make our way across the Mozambique channel. Impiana is sailing well, but just as we neared this Cape St.Andre, the seas got very choppy and confused, current against wind probably, but the depth shelved up too, so possibly a number of factors combining to make our last three hours rotten. I will need to investigate purchasing 3 new sections of foil for my furler in Durban, but i am actually enjoying this kind of sailing, headsail strapped to the lifelines, sailing into and out of anchorages.

I am planning to head for a point on the coast of Mozambique called Bazaruto - 21deg 30.2min South by 35deg 28.3min East. It offers relative shelter and is a good point to begin the jumps down the coast to Richards Bay. While sailing down the coast, i'm inclined to stay out on the edge of the continental shelf, giving me the option to run out to deeper sea. Although i downloaded some information regarding weather reports on HF radio, we have not been able to hear any. Bob or Phil, if you guys don't mind, can you please send your latest info regarding weather report schedules for HF radio along the Southern African coast. I think it's a guy called Alastair running some kind of ham network. We have sent for grib files, so we'll not be blind, but i'd like to make use of the ssb for land based "real time" weather reports.
Cheers, Andy, Baz, Mat and Tracey.

The Impiana Adventure #3 - The Indian Ocean...
03 October 2008

Hi all, The writing of this email finds us anchored in Crator bay, Nosi Be, Madagascar. There's so much to write about since I last updated you all, just before entering Mahe, Seychelles, but September '08 will forever stick in my memory as the month I had my forestay detach from the top of my mast in 25-30 knot trades and bad swell! 

After leaving Chagos on the 31^st August, we covered a straight line distance of 960nm in six and a half days, using 40L of fuel, mostly for charging, with no auto-helm and sometimes three eyes. The wind was never less than 10 knots apparent from the SE, but there was plenty of rain.

We anchored off Victoria harbour in the wee hours of 7th September, and the next morning a boat arrived with the formal people to complete the check-in procedure.  Apart from my topsides gaining two scratches, it was a simple process. The Seychelles Yacht Club (SYC) is inside the harbour, and right in the very heart of Victoria Town. While Baz and I were enjoying some very cold beers my cousin Mat and his wife Tracey arrived. I hadn't seen them for years, so I'm sure you can imagine that the beers flowed freely that day.

The next day was my birthday, so once again, cold beer was heavily sought after. We all met up with the crew from the 100ft Swan, Fantasticaaa, in a popular restaurant called the pirate's arms.  It was a great night, and after the large table had sung the birthday song to me, a chap sitting not far from us approached me and wished me a happy birthday. At first I was surprised to see him, but it didn't take long for me to realise that Ronny didn't recognise me. I had asked around for him at the yacht club, but got nowhere. After a moment of explanation, the lights flickered for him.  "...remember Malaysia, about eight years ago. You sailed there with Capt Marty, then you sailed the Raja Muda with my Mom and Dad on Pelangi." Suddenly it all hit him and we had an addition to the table.

With info gathered from Ronny, we set about getting ready to sail some of the outer islands. About 25nm to the NW of Mahe lay, among others, Praslin and La Dique Islands. We had a lovely sail over there, broad reaching with the SE'ly which was still in full swing, 15 knots everyday. A few days were spent anchored of a lovely bay on Praslin Island, going ashore to snorkel, swimming at the beach, but mostly relaxing.

Then we took off for La Dique to catch up with Ronny. There is a little breakwater and concrete jetty which is to service the ferry's coming in from Mahe and Praslin, but Ronny told us a little local trick, anchor in the basin and tie a line to a tree on the shore. It worked well.

Baz, Mat and Tracey hired bicycles one day and took off with snorkels and masks all over the little island, returning with sore legs and smiles. I was still feeling the effects of the crossing from Chagos, and with a massive cold sore on my lip from not being sun smart, was not in any mood to be active. The evening before returning to Mahe, Ronny invited us all to dine at his girlfriend's house. It was a very well cooked seafood menu, and interesting to see how modern the house was on a little island in the Indian Ocean. Before heading back to Mahe, we stopped in Praslin again to check out the famous Coco de Mer which is only found on Praslin. It is an interesting shape and arrangement, the female fruit looks like the buttocks of a lady. I think that's all I can say, Google it.  Anyhow, as you can imagine, it's protected due to its rarity, with heavy jail sentences for trafficking. 

After spending another few days back at SYC, we all got a Madagascan visa from the embassy in Victoria and completed the formal check out procedures for the Seychelles. Adding up the cost to the port authority, check in fee Rs350, departure fee Rs550, one can gauge the means by which this country goes about getting income. I must say that the Seychelles are very expensive if one were to run out of foreign currency. The exchange of foreign currency through the official channels say for US1$ is Rs8 (Seychelles Rupees), but on the black market (taxi drivers mostly) it's Rs12 to 1 USD. Rather a large difference, but that is not what really gets me, what irks me most is that some upper market restaurants/bars expect to be paid by tourists in foreign currency. They even have the cheek to demand ForEx (local term) prior to service. Anyhow, it's the only thing I have to complain about, other than that it's a lovely country, and the people are very kind, helpful, friendly. One more thing - Seybrew is a great beer!

Impiana weighed anchor and left Mahe on the morning of the 21st September, heading for Providence Island, just over half way to the mainland of Madagascar (350nm) and almost directly on route. Apart from having to motor sail down the eastern side of Mahe a distance of 10nm(due to wind angle), and now motoring into Nosy Be, there has been absolutely no shortage in wind. As we rounded the bottom of Mahe, we bore away from the wind to a compass heading of 225 degrees, meaning that we could sail a close reach, very fast and wet. It was only about an hour after setting sail on the coarse to Providence that Mat called out rather excitedly "Baz...Baz we got one!"  I have left all of the fishing related activities to those better suited - fishermen. I assisted the boys by taking some pics during all of the hauling in. It was a large one, a 1.2m King fish, or WAHOO. Once the fish was in, Baz reached over for a winch handle after Mat inquired as to how we kill it. Another Mark Chapman tip. It got very messy. Baz fried up the very large fillets as well as potato chips later on that night, and it was the best fish I've ever eaten.

The trip to Providence was a pretty fast one, with winds ranging from 15 to 25 knots apparent, mostly from the SSE, but opening up for the second day to SE. Unfortunately Tracey was not well after getting into the larger swell, this lasted for about a day and since then she's been bright eyed and bushy tailed, a pleasure to have as crew. Mat took to the boat like a fish to water, as I expected. Once again we approached our anchorage at Providence Island in the wee hours of the morning, not a quiet spot, as the wind looses no velocity passing over the almost flat island, but we did get a break from the swell. It's a 20nm long reef, running North-South, with two little islands at either end (Providence Island in the North and Cerf Island to the South). A large dinghy motored out in the morning, Mat being the early bird had a chat with the chap (his name was Maxwell). The crew lowered the dinghy and went ashore for an exploration, and I stayed aboard for safety and some maintenance chores. After returning to the boat, the boys decided to take the dinghy out again to try trawling a lure. About half an hour later Tracey called for me to look at something in the water beside the boys. They were hunkered down in the dinghy, little 2.2hp outboard engine running flat out, trying to reel in the lure and get back to Impiana as quickly as possible. Apparently there were two 2m long tiger sharks beside the dinghy, thrashing about. The boys hearts were pumping for a number of hours afterwards, dinghy trawling was given up.

That evening we had another visit from Maxwell, he brought us a box full of pre-cut coconuts, half a dozen papaya's and a very large pumpkin, all grown on the island. Apparently the little infrastructure on the island was all destroyed last year by a cyclone, the first to hit Providence in 50 years. Maxwell was part of a construction team rebuilding the airplane runway. There is a crew of 8 men, they have been there eight months, and a supply ship stops by every three months. Here I was thinking six weeks on an oil rig was a long time. We thanked Maxwell, turned down an offer for lunch the next day, gave him eight beers and said our good-byes. That night was movie night, we watched the Bourne Ultimatum inside due to rain.  Before setting off in the morning, Maxwell returned with yet another box, this time full of bananas, great chap.

One of the jobs I wanted to do before setting off for Madagascar was to replace the 150 percent cruising genoa with a 100 percent jib which I purchased second hand and had re-cut in Langkawi.  Basically it's a smaller headsail, meaning more control in heavier conditions. We set off at a blistering pace, boat speed steady at nines and tens. The angle was again a close reach, but the seas were getting choppier and irregular. There would be patches where the swell would be steep, but the distance between them were maybe two boat lengths. Then, out of the blue (pardon the pun) would come the cross seas, almost from the SW, as well as the original SE swell. The best way to describe what it looked and felt like would be - picture the inside of a washing machine while on - that's it. The cruising pilot for this area states that the seas off the northern tip of Madagascar can be very rough, so the conditions weren't completely unexpected.

"It" happened on the 25th September, just before 10pm local time. I'll quote the logbook:

"Last night, at 1755 GMT, I heard a bang while helming and shone the torch to reveal the forestay and headsail lying in the water over the STB side (leeward). Impiana was on a close reach, winds varying from 20-25 knots app, 50 degrees off the port bow. Seas were as they are now, confused, choppy, irregular - like the inside of a washing machine. As soon as I saw the forestay off, I called for Baz while bearing away from the wind and sea. Baz took the helm and I went forward to inspect. The forestay was still attached at the bow, but was now bent back over the anchor locker and was trailing beside the boat. I managed to lift the forestay over the lifelines and into the boat and then I strapped the stay and headsail to the inside of the lifelines. Next job was to support the rig forward, so the three remaining FWD halyards were tied to the toerail at the bow, that being the port genoa halyard, port and STB spinn halyards. They were tensioned in the cockpit, so we started the engine and tested her to wind. The main was up (2 reefs), so I didn't want to go FWD of a broad reach. Later (10-15 min) we dropped the main and motored our coarse (220 degrees). The top 3 - 4 metres of the forestay is draped over the push-pit and dangling in the water.  NOT HAPPY JAN! Currently we are making way for the northern tip of Madagascar, on the west side for some shelter. It looks as though the pin fixing the stay to the rig has come out. I love my crew - all credit to them for helping me in trying times."

Thats how it happened. Now, after having motored for half a night and a full day, I realise that our fuel capacity is not enough to continue in this fashion. With the state of the seas as they were, Impiana was only making 2 to 3 knots of headway (Speed over ground), so not only were we not going to make Nosy Be, it might be a struggle to make it behind the lee of the northern peninsular before running out of fuel.  Dropping off 2 - 3 metre waves in a flat bottomed boat, without a forestay, brought shudders not only to the hull and rig, my nerves took a beating. Two reefs in the little delivery tan bark main had the head of the sail about where the second spreaders attach to the mast, so as a precaution I took a long 12mm sheet up above the second spreaders and tied fast around the mast. This line turned around a block which was fastened at the bow, to the toe rail, then followed the deck back to the cockpit and a winch.  With this jury rig I felt happy to test the main, and although the luff was very loose, Impiana sailed about 70nm in 12 hours. 

Once the top of Madagascar was rounded, the seas calmed, but so too did the wind. The engine was run most of the 78nm remaining to Nosy Be. Having been hoisted up the mast again (the boys have done some grinding) whilst at a quiet anchorage, I found that a split-pin had come away somehow, leaving the large pin to "ride" out of it's bracket... no forestay. None of the roller furling sections are cracked, although the first is bent over, it will be removed today and inspected on land. We expect to spend two weeks in Madagascar, but first objective will be to refit the forestay and get sailing again.
Cheers,
Andy, Baz, Mat and Tracey.

The Impiana Adventure #2 - The Indian Ocean...
01 August 2008

Four years ago, Andrew Findlay harbored a strong desire to do some serious ocean sailing and is now taking his Malaysian registered Beneteau 45f5 "Impiana" across the Indian Ocean to South Africa, with the view of entering the Cape to Bahia yacht race (previously known as the Cape to Rio) which historically kicks off in early January 2009. "G' day Marty, Despite all the Cruising Guides advising against taking a sailing boat around the top of Sumatra and traversing east to west across the northern parts of the Indian ocean this time of the year we are now 870NM East of Seychelles and the sordid details below? It's pretty long but believe it or not, it's the short version. Hope to catch up with Ronnie in the Seychelles and be able to send some photos. Cheers, Andy".

01:09:08 The Impiana adventure #2 (the Indian Ocean)

Having prepared Impiana to a state I considered ready enough to set sail, obviously a relative decision which every skipper decides upon countering in factors such as safety, reliability, spares, comfort and where to stow it all, we headed down to the government offices at Kuah jetty, Langkawi, in order to complete the formal "check out" paperwork. The previous day was spent last minute shopping and receiving a bread making lesson from the lovely Kate, a Kiwi yachtie with a wealth of experience, which has come in very handy indeed. I wanted to keep Impiana's decks as clear as possible, so most places for stowage in lockers and under bunks were taken up, an exercise which although is very tedious and labour intensive, can keep the boat tidy and in good running order.  Keeping a boat clean and tidy is something i've learnt over the years, mostly for reasons of safety.

Impiana was fitted with an SSB radio, as well as a 'pactor modem', which allowed us to apply for a sailmail account, in other words - basic email at sea. This meant keeping in touch with friends and loved one's, as well as being able to receive weather forecasts. We slipped the lines and motored out of RLYC at 07:35, Monday the 4th August, headed for the northern tip of Sumatra. The trip across was just as expected, motoring the entire way other than a half hour period when a squall passed over. With not much wind and plenty to do aboard, Baz and I got to work on separate little jobs. Luckily my tasks were a little less technical, installing plugs to mast wiring for quick/easy separation in case of lightning, whereas Baz got the chartplotter communicating with our Maxsea software, installed onto the laptop. Maxsea is software which among other things, has charts for the entire planet, so although it shouldn't be used as one's only form of navigation, it's very handy.

We anchored off Bandar Aceh 10:00 Indo time, not a very safe anchorage, but all that was required was refueling for the journey down the coast.  After launching the dinghy, I went ashore with empty jerry's and a pocket full of Rupee's, Baz stayed on board. It took two hours, but I easily found a three wheel motorbike taxi who took me firstly to the fuel service station, then to a shop for a huge block of ice, and finally past a veggie market for a bag of tomatoes. As soon as I got back aboard, we lifted the dinghy, hauled the anchor up and made way round the top of the massive island... Sumatra.

Almost immediately after going through a little channel which separated the Indian Ocean from the Andaman Sea, the wind blew up 25 knots from the SW. The first time we got to do some real sailing, Baz on the helm was like a kid at Christmas time. This didn't last long, as a squall brought 25 knot NW'ly winds for an hour. There was another squall the next day, again lasting for about an hour, but other than that it was motor sailing with our second hand tan bark delivery main sail. Bob Taylor (my sailing mentor), who was surfing down in the Mentawai islands, sent an email to us with information about a quiet/safe anchorage at the first island down the coast of Sumatra called Pulau Simeulu, roughly 200nm  South of Bandar Aceh. Unfortunately we arrived in the wee hours of the morning of 8th August, but didn't have any major problems anchoring. Capt Morgan was invited into the cockpit, along with a couple of cans of coke, so let's just say we slept like babies in the calm conditions.

In the morning we awoke to crystal clear blue water, hundreds of palm trees on the beach and the sun beating down. There was no time to waste, so we had some breakfast, hauled in the anchor and made our way back out to the ocean for the southerly continuation of our journey. It was another 350nm to get to Bob's anchorage at the south end of Pulau Siberut, a popular hang out for surfers. Apparently Kelly Slater was there a week previous and Andy Irons was currently at a local resort at that time, so obviously a world class spot for waves.

Motor sailing again with only about 150nm to cross the equator, and with the night being so quiet, we watched a good cop/bad cop movie on the laptop. Capt Morgan was once again invited into the cockpit as we crossed the equator, motor sailing still. As we rounded the bottom of P Siberut on the evening of the 10th August, I will quote our logbook entry from Baz: "didn't need to switch the nav lights on tonight - they were still on from last night.  That's how safe we are, don't worry about that!"  Although we received Bob's anchorage waypoint via email, it was a little strange that the Maxsea software had the waypoint about 50m on land.  There were a couple of small channels to negotiate in order to get round the bottom of the island, so when we got onto the SSB radio and spoke to Kevin from SV Helena, we found out that Maxsea was about 0.5 - 1nm out in that region, my heart began fluttering. It was about 9pm, local time, plenty of little islands and reefs around (which is why surfers love the place), and the first thing a yachting person learns about yachts, is that yachts and rocks/coral/concrete/wood/sand do not go well together. I decided to take the conservative option, going another 15 - 20nm around all of the little islands. My motto for the trip so far is "I do not want to become a bar story". We anchored beside Bob's boat at about 3am local time, following a series of waypoints given to us by Kevin over the radio. Capt Morgan popped his head up from the saloon once again, kindly offering to take the anchor watch.

We both slept through to midday, after which we drowsily arose, picked up the hand held VHF and called Nero and received an instant reply "You guys finally awake?".  Bob shot across with his dinghy and after finding out that our fridge was not working, quickly returned to Nero for his Freon gas bottle and a cold six pack, it was a great afternoon catching up with him, listening to stories and enjoying cold beer. The re-gasing didn't work, so we charged Bob with a carton of Langkawi Tiger for cooling. The next day we hauled anchor and motored 15nm around to the little town called Siberut for refueling. This little place was absolutely filthy, rubbish piled up everywhere, but all friendly faces. The only guy I didn't like was the dodgy middle aged man selling us fuel, he started at Rp9,500 per liter, but I managed to get him down to Rp8,000, a little over what Bob and the resort owners pay. After filling our main tank and all of our jerry cans and restocking our veggie supplies, we returned to Bob's anchorage.

The next day was spent cleaning the boat up and doing some laundry with water supplied by Bob and Glenda, who collect rain water off their boat covers and 'dog house'. That night we were invited to dinner on Nero, along with Kevin and his girlfriend Lisa from Helena. Cold beers, great food and awesome stories made for a wonderful night, a real nice send off as we planned to take off for the Seychelles in the morning. Bob and Glenda motored by in the morning on their way out to a surf spot and said their goodbyes as well as dropping off two really cold beers "that's the last cold beers you'll have till you get to the Seychelles" said Bob.  Bless his heart, but little did he know we'd be spending the day fault finding our engine starting circuit.  It was about 4pm when Nero returned, but by this time we had isolated and just about rectified the problem. Just as we hauled up anchor, Glenda came by with another four coldies, need I say more?

After motoring out of the southern section of P Siberut, past all of the little islands, we set the sails with a 15 knot SE'ly, steered SW and switched the engine off. We were advised by Bob to make south to about 8 degrees to ensure steady trade winds, so our first day was spent on a SW'ly heading. The morning of the second day the wind moved more to the south and strengthened, so we bore away by 10 or 15 degrees in order to reduce the apparent wind strength, also giving us more of a westerly heading. It wasn't until dinner that night that the autohelm decided to pack in, I must admit that the larger swell on the port quarter was making the autohelm motor work harder than it's ever done before. It was well into the night, so we decided to inspect the damage in the morning. Helming through the night was a real 'wake up', being tired after one's shift had a new meaning. Even making a cup of coffee was difficult, not to mention going to the toilet.

The next morning brought more bad news, the instrument was unrepairable without replacement parts, so we had to hand steer the boat a minimum of 2,500NM, the realisation of this mammoth task was sobering to say the least, having helmed through the previous night.  The first two days were the most difficult, both our forearms were very sore from constant helm adjustment due to large aft swell, feet sore from standing on the hard teak behind the wheel, and minds tired from concentrating intensely on the compass instrument.  After the second night, the winds were stronger and we had some fun at the wheel because as the boat speed increased, Impiana handled the seas a lot better (faster is always better in my opinion).

Another revelation was putting the bimini down at dusk, giving full vision of the night sky and the top of the mast where the manual wind indicator is mounted. A clear night in the middle of the Indian Ocean really is something to behold.  I've never seen stars like it before, the only place which it compares to for me would be in the arid Pilbara region, north west Australia. In fact it was a lot easier lining the rig up to some star or constellation rather than focusing on the compass. At times we would both find ourselves concentrating on the instrument and sailing 40 or 50 degrees off course, the numbers becoming somewhat irrelevant. The flapping sails would be the only reminder. Listening to the ipod, dancing at the wheel, drinking large cups of coffee, moving positions, singing to the music, and attempting whatever random body movement in order to stay awake long enough for the other crew member to get a little sleep.

Checking the sailmail everyday at least kept us entertained and up to date with home, but apart from this I was able to get some help from my Aunt and Uncle in Brisbane to order the required parts needed to repair the autohelm, they then sent the parts to my cousin in London who is meeting us in the Seychelles on the 5th September. Also during this time, we were advised by my Dad to make a stop over in Chagos, where we could rest up and recharge ourselves for the onward 960nm to the Seychelles. Dad (in Zambia) and my Sister (in Melbourne) arranged the necessary permit for our stay in Chagos, and we decided to visit the island group of Salomon, where a natural harbour is made up of eleven small islands, 4nm at the longest by 2nm at the shortest.

The entry is a little shallow, about 5m for a distance of about 100m, and then it drops away to a general depth of about 20m. There are random coral heads, but only rise to about 4-5m below the surface, never the less we navigated the lagoon with severe caution. Although arriving at the entrance of the lagoon in the early hours of the morning of the 26th August, I decided to heave-to, get some sleep and wait for sun up. Within half and hour of anchoring off Takamaka island, a turtle swam past, we noticed many little coral fish, and a pod of about 30 dolphins frolicked around in the middle of the lagoon, a real tropical paradise. Palm trees covered all of the islands, white beach's lead to the crystal clear blue water and we were the only humans around. Both of us changed the bed sheets on our bunks, and enjoyed the bliss of comfortable, limitless sleep.

As a random observation, I will note that both Baz and myself have noticed constant dream patterns whilst sailing aboard Impiana, I have experience of this sailing at other times, but find this phenomena bazaar, albeit enjoyable. I awoke that evening to find a very large sloop anchored about 100m from us, but with night befalling us, Baz and I busied ourselves with dinner and a meeting with the Capt, Morgan that is. The next day we had a visit from the crew, Stefano the Italian skipper, Gareth the deckhand, and Roberto the mate on holidays, on board the 100 foot maxi, German Frers designed Swan, "Fantastico". I quickly realised why I thought I saw children on the boat. We all went ashore (The three other crew aboard Fantastico were the guys partners) and walked the beach on an excursion, plenty of small hermit crabs, sea birds, rats, and cocks were heard crowing too.

Yesterday Baz and I took the dinghy past the reef and trawled a lure, we caught a small Barracuda and a 50cm blue finned tuna, so obviously it didn't take long to decide to take them ashore and make a fire on the beach and BBQ those suckers. I had decided to leave today, being the 29th August, but Stefano brought some bad weather news, a high pressure cell was only 50nm to the north of us, which explained the very light conditions, and as we only had a 120L left aboard, meaning just over 2 days motoring (300nm), it was prudent to wait for some good wind.

So, although we are at the mercy of the weather, it's not really a bad spot to be hanging out, maybe we'll get some more snorkeling done with those little black tipped reef sharks swimming around the coral near Impiana, maybe some more fishing, definitely bake some more bread, and as long as Capt Morgan is aboard - all's well aboard Impiana!

The Impiana Adventure - The Start...
30 July 2008

About 4 years ago, Andrew Findlay brought the Malaysian registered Beneteau 45f5 called "Impiana" and during that time has successfully competed on the annual Raja Muda Regatta while being based in Kuala Lumpur. Although always harbouring a strong desire to do some serious ocean sailing, time and funds have managed to be insurmountable hurdles in the past. An old family friend, Bob Taylor, who is currently on his 6^th circumnavigation with his wife Glenda aboard their yacht "Nero", planted the first seeds of an idea to sail Impiana to the Cape and enter her into the Cape to Bahia yacht race (previously known as the Cape to Rio). At the time I didn't take it very seriously, although some of my buddies were very keen, that is until four months ago when I met up with Bob again in Langkawi. He nurtured and watered that seed until it grew into an idea, I had to seriously check out.

I could not afford to undertake all of the works needed to firstly prepare Impiana for the open ocean, secondly to sail her to the Cape and lastly to race the three thousand three hundred miles across the South Atlantic Ocean. So, after emailing all of my friends who showed serious interest and stating that money would be required to get Impiana ready, I was very surprised to find out that all were still keen and prepared to chip in. A substantial amount of money was put into a general boat kitty which I have used to purchase and pay for the many things needed to be bought/ installed/ repaired. The next thing to do before committing was to arrange a delivery crew for the cruise from Malaysia to South Africa. Everyone was interested, but only one crew member managed to commit, Barry Pomroy (aka "the Navigator"). This meant that two of us would be sailing Impiana across the Indian Ocean, but I considered this enough to commit.

The work started by having Impiana hauled out of the water in Langkawi, what began as a 2-3 weeks haul out, ended up being 7 weeks! I have since learnt that there is a general formula for predicting the time scales of boat work... take a conservative estimate, double it, and then add a few weeks as a fudge factor. This is more than likely going to be the closest and certainly most realistic estimate, and hopefully the project won't be too far behind. Along with having Impiana's topsides repainted, there were various minor, but serious items which required attention. Bits off the engine, a glass repair to the interior of the hull (probably the most annoying thing I have ever done, grinding fibreglass is not fun), rigging inspections, mast wiring, water tank removal and repairs, installation of an SSB radio, etc, etc...  As in most projects, a list was made in order to control the priority and progress, but the further we went on, the larger the list got. Needless to say, it was a very good exercise and we learnt a lot about the boat.

Barry, Impiana and I are currently in Langkawi, getting last minute things done, and plan to set off for the top of Sumatra by the end of July. The route we have decided on is to round the top of Sumatra, and follow the Western coast in a southerly direction, passing the equator and searching for steady SE'ly trade winds. Once steady winds are found, we turn right and make for the Seychelles. If all goes well, we will land at Victoria before the end of August. 

As I have been told, the best direct translation of Impiana from Malay to English is Vision or Dream. We will do our best to relay our vision over the coming 7 months. I will steal a signoff of Bob's... "Live while you're alive".

AsianYachting Ventures Sdn. Bhd. (Co. No. 627106-T)
A 308 PD Perdana Condo Resort, Jln Pantai, 71050, Pt Dickson, Malaysia
Tel: 6 06 6477701 Email: info@asianyachting.com
Welcome to the Wonderful World of Yachting at http://AsianYachting.com