Ship's log for the tag Rotes_Meer

Es ist 6 Uhr morgens, ich sitze im Cockpit, die Luft ist noch klar und frisch, im Schiff ist es noch still. Um 8 Uhr sollen wir an Land sein und unsere Pässe zur Ausreise abgeben. Um 9 Uhr soll dann der Pilot an Bord kommen, für die Kanaldurchfahrt.

Hinter mir zieht der nach Norden fahrende Convoy der Dicken vorbei. 50 Schiffe, jedes beladen mit bis zu 20000 Seecontainern, tuckern langsam am Yachthafen vorbei Richtung Mittelmeer. Ein kleines Containerschiff zahlt dafür 500000 USD, die ganz Dicken auch schon 2 Millionen. Tatsächlich zahlen wir den gleichen Preis wie die Großen, 8 USD pro Tonne, um durch den Kanal fahren zu dürfen. Allerdings sind wir im Vergleich ein Leichtgewicht, so dass die Kosten für uns bezahlbar bleiben, vermutlich zum Leidwesen der Kanalbetreiber. Wenn der Convoy durch ist, werden auch wir nach Norden schippern, durch den Lake Bitter bis nach Ismailiah, wo wir die Nacht verbringen werden, bevor es dann morgen ins Mittelmeer geht.

Die letzten Tage waren entspannt. Wir liegen seit Montag an einer Mooring Boje im Yachtclub. An den Steg trauten wir uns nach unseren unerwünschten Besuchern von Port Ghalib nicht. Captain Heebi, unser Agent, verbrachte bei unserer Ankunft ein kleines Wunder, indem er die Kanalbehörden dazu bracht, dass wir zusammen mit den nach Norden fahrenden Dicken die ersten paar Meter des Kanals bis zum Yachtclub zurücklegen. Eigentlich ist das unmöglich und bedeutet deshalb normalerweise für Yachten lange Wartezeiten bis sie dann im Yachtclub anlegen dürfen. Für uns wurde eine Ausnahme gemacht, vielleicht wegen der Kinder, vielleicht aber auch weil Windchase, Renegade und Millipal noch vor dem Convoy durchgeschlüpft waren und Captain Heebi die Formalitäten für alle Yachten zusammen erledigen wollte. Wir wissen es nicht, waren aber sehr dankbar die gute Organisation und die professionelle Arbeit des Captain. Noch am selben Abend, gegen 23 Uhr, bekamen wir unsere Pässe zurück, und waren nun klar das Land betreten zu dürfen.

Der Yachtclub ist ein wenig runtergekommen und liegt in einem Viertel, das einmal reich gewesen sein muss. Die alten Villen sehen trotz ihrer Patina toll aus und wären Schönheiten, wenn man ein wenig renovieren würde. Im Club gibt es sogar einen Spielplatz. Ein paar Blöcke weiter gibt es eine echt ägyptische Foodmeile mit kleinen Restaurants, die Kebab, Tee, Kaffee und Shishas verkaufen. Die Ägypter sitzen nach Sonnenuntergang vor den Lokalen an kleinen Tischen auf der Straße und genießen ihr Frühstück zum Ende des Fastentages. Auch wir aßen dort zusammen mit den Crews der anderen Yachten. Köfta, Sish Kebab, Reis, Hummus, Salat und Fladenbrot, echtes ägyptisches Essen - lecker! Zur Feier des Ramadans bekamen wir dazu einen lilafarbenen, sehr leckeren Saft gereicht und süße Bällchen als Nachtisch. Beides sind lokale Köstlichkeiten und werden speziell zubereitet für das Fastenbrechen am Ende des Tages.

Nach dem Essen wanderten wir durch den alltäglichen abendlichen Sandsturm zu Moya zurück. Tagsüber ist es hier unglaublich heiß, die Luft steht. Das Fasten, vor allem nichts zu Trinken, muss in diesem Klima eine fast übermenschliche Disziplin erfordern. Am späten Nachmittag setzte bisher immer ein starker warmer Wind ein, der viel Staub aus der Wüste mitbrachte. Moya hat außen mittlerweile einen richtigen Sandpanzer und ich trage täglich eine Kehrschaufel voll Sand aus dem Schiff.

Bald wird sich das ändern. Das Mittelmeer wartet auf uns.

Fake

Nachdem wir uns nun schon seit zwei Wochen in Ägypten befinden und bisher nur Hotels, Restaurants und Touri Geschäfte gesehen haben, die fast die gesamte Küstenlinie von Port Ghalib bis zum Golf von Suez bedecken, wollten wir endlich das wahre Ägypten sehen. Es war zwar ganz nett seit fast zwei Jahren mal wieder Storck Riesen zu essen, im Touri Supermarkt Gouda und Salami einzukaufen, Abends ein Bier zu trinken und Burger zu essen, aber mit Ägypten hat diese eigens für die Touristen designte Welt wenig zu tun. Ganze Städte wurden von den Saudi Arabischen Ölscheichs für touristische Zwecke auf dem Reißbrett entworfen und aus dem Boden gestampft, inklusive Marinas, Schulen, Apartmenthäuser für die Angestellten, und natürlich jeder Menge Hotels. Port Ghalib, Abu Hasheesh, El Gouna sind nur Bespiele dafür. Wir können uns nicht vorstellen, dass sich diese Investitionen tragen, aber vielleicht tun sie es ja eines Tages?

Hurghada hat zwar einen alten Ortskern, wäre aber nur noch eine weitere Touristenstadt gewesen, also tuckerten wir nur an der Stadt vorbei und begutachten mit gutem Abstand die vielen Motoryachten im Hafen und Hotels dahinter. Wir wollten nach El Tur auf dem Sinai, um doch noch einen Blick hinter die Kulissen zu erhaschen.

Rausgeworfen

Auf Seglerblogs hatten wir gelesen, dass El Tur eine Besuch Wert sein soll, eingebettet zwischen den Bergen der Sinai Halbinsel, soll sie von Touristen weitgehend verschont sein. Nach einer weiteren Fahrt durch die Nacht warfen wir gestern Morgen bei Sonnenaufgang unser Eisen ins Wasser. Statt Tauchbooten, lagen Fischerboote neben uns, statt Hotels sahen wir Flachbauten an der Küste und eine Moschee. Zum ersten Mal in Ägypten hörten wir den Muezzin singen. Vielversprechend! Wir freuten uns auf unseren Landgang. Nach einem ruhigen Start in den Tag wässerten wir Tilly und tuckerten zu einem kleinem halb verfallenen Steg, an dem kleine Fischerboote vertäut waren. Wir stiegen aus und auf den Weg Richtung Stadt. Nach nur 10 Metern standen die Kinder und ich vor einem total verblüfften Ägypter in Flecktarn, die MP im Anschlag. Wir waren in eine militärische Stellung gelaufen. Hinter ihm war ein Loch im Boden ausgehoben mit Sandsäcken davor, daneben gab es zwei Unterschlupfe hinter Ziegelmauern und auf der Straße waren metallene Gebilde aufgebaut um eine Durchfahrt per Auto zu verhindern. Zwei weitere bewaffnete Männer kamen um die Ecke. Oh!

“Naja, kein Problem” dachte ich. Freunde von uns waren letztes Jahr auch hier mit dem Boot und waren von Soldaten kontrolliert worden. Wir zeigten unsere Papiere vor und schauten ihn ratlose Gesichter. Englisch sprach hier keiner. Schließlich wurden wir in ein klimatisches Büro gebracht, zum Chef in zivil, der konnte dann auch Englisch und prüfte unsere Visa. Obwohl wir haargenau dieselben Visa haben wie jemand der mit dem Flugzeug nach Ägypten reist, verweigerte er uns unseren Landgang. El Tur sei ein nationaler Hafen, wo wir als Ausländer keinen Stempel bekommen können. Er verstand sehr wohl, dass wir schon offiziell ins Land einreist sind und uns eigentlich frei im Land bewegen dürfen, trotzdem scheiterten wir, auch nur an den Strand zu dürfen. Er warf uns höflich hinaus.

Nach unzähligen Behördengängen meine ich nun endlich die irrwitzigen Regularien der Ägypter zu verstehen: Wer mit dem Boot nach Ägypten einreist, muss dies an einem internationalen Hafen tun und dort seinen Papierkram erledigen. Will man dann einen nationalen Hafen besuchen, benötigt man zusätzlich die Freigabe des internationalen Hafens der entsprechenden Region. Um El Tur zu besuchen müssten wir also, obwohl wir schon offiziell in Land eingereist sind, den internationale Hafen der Region Sinai in Sharm el Sheik besuchen und unsere Papiere prüfen lassen. Genauso hätten wir vermutlich in Abu Makhadiq vorher nach Hurghada gemusst, um an Land gegen zu dürfen. Dort wurde ein Auge zu gedrückt, wir haben ja auch “Marinagebühren” bezahlt - fürs Ankern, das allererste Mal überhaupt. Das 150 USD teure Cruising Permit, das wir in Port Ghalib erwerben mussten, hat somit den Wert von Klopapier. Mann, Mann, Mann! Komplizierter geht’s nicht mehr.

Vielleicht bekommen wir in Suez das wahre Ägypten noch zu sehen? Wir warten momentan, anlegen zu dürfen.

Nächtliche Jagd

Die Zerstörungswut unseres ungebetenen Gastes hat uns so entsetzt, dass wir entschieden haben, nicht schlafen zu gehen, bevor der Nager dingfest gemacht ist. Unsere Lebensmittelbilgen waren inzwischen leer, alles was noch zu Essen da war, war in dichte Hartplastikkisten verpackt oder in der Bugkabine verräumt. Aushungern war die Devise, damit die leckeren Wurst- und Käsestücke in unseren multiplen Fallen ihre Wirkung tun konnten. Wir saßen also bei gedimmten Licht im Salon und warteten bis sich unsere Ratte zeigen würde. Um uns herum waren die Rattenfallen aufgebaut. Es dauerte nicht lange, da zeigte sich der Übertäter. Vorsichtig krabbelte er auf eine der Klebefallen zu. Wir rührten uns nicht. Schwups, war der Käse von dem mit dickem Ratten-Kleber bestrichenen Karton geklaut und die Pappe abgeschüttelt. Das hatten wir uns anders vorgestellt. Auch beim zweiten Mal blieben die im Netz hochgerühmten Klebefallen wirkungslos. Immer wieder kam der Nager in den Salon geschlichen und nagte dann doch tatsächlich ganz vorsichtig den Käse von der konventionellen Klappfalle. Bei der kleinsten Berührung hätte diese ausgelöst und innerhalb von 8 Millisekunden - wir haben es gemessen - die Ratte festgesetzt. Hätte! In Wirklichkeit war unser Erzfeind zu vorsichtig. Aus Verzweiflung fing der Capitano an eine Falle aus unserer Spülschüssel zu bauen, mit Stöckchen und Schnürchen und einem Stück Apfel. Mittlerweile war es zwei Uhr morgens. Wir warteten und beobachten. Schließlich kletterte das graue Tier den Niedergang hinauf. Der Capitano hetzte mit der Taschenlampe hinterher, während ich alle Schotten dicht machte. Sie flüchtete in unseren Ankerkasten. Klappe zu, Affe tot - oder zumindest einmal aufgeräumt bis zum nächsten Morgen.

Tötungsphantasien

Wir gingen ins Bett, hundemüde, aber einschlafen konnten wir immer noch nicht. Uns wollte einfach keine sinnvolle Möglichkeit einfallen, wie wir die Ratte im Ankerkasten um die Ecke bringen können. Rattengift war keine Option, da das Gift verzögert wirkt und wir beim Ankerauf gehen die Ankerbox öffnen müssen. Sie wäre direkt ausgebüchst. Christians Phantasie ging mit ihm durch, die Theorien reichten von mit Anästhetikum präparierte Köder, über selbstproduziertes Zyankali bis zu Abgase unseres Außenborders in den Kasten zu leiten. Alles wurden direkt wieder verworfen. Auch meine Ideen den Ankerkasten zu fluten oder die Flöte herauszukramen passten dem Capitano nicht.

Letztendlich einigten wir uns, nach mentaler Inkubation über Nacht, am nächsten Morgen darauf, die Ratte auszuräuchern. Wir kauften Kohle und präparierten eine leere große Konservendose so, dass sie mit Draht aufgehängt werden konnte. Dann machten wir Feuer. Als das Ding richtig gut brannte hängten wir es in den Ankerkasten. Die Idee war, dass das Feuer schnell durch fehlenden Sauerstoff ausgehen würde und dann Kohlenstoffmonoxid produzieren würde, das die Ratte dann vergiften würde. So die Theorie.

Mausetod

In der Praxis funktionierte unser Plan so halb. Dichter Qualm war im Kasten, allerdings brachen wir die Aktion wohl zu früh ab. Unser Gast lebte noch, wenn auch sichtlich angeschlagen. Viel langsamer als sonst ging er dem Bootshaken aus dem Weg, als wir im Kasten stocherten. Nach einigen Fangfehlversuchen ließen wir die Ratte schließlich zögerlich heraus und verfolgten sie zu zweit mit den Paddeln unseres Dingies. Joshi und Joni schauten interessiert zu und feierten, als wir sie schließlich über Bord geschubst hatten. Dort schwamm sie doch tatsächlich Richtung Ankerkette. Christian sprang ins Dingi und drückte sie immer wieder unter Wasser. Sie überlebte aushungern, ankleben, vergasen, ins Wasser schleudern und erschlagen, aber beim Ertrinken waren dann ihre 6 Leben aufgebraucht.

Wir testen unsere Technik an Bord, alles ok. Zu feiern wagten wir aber erst einen Tag später, als die Käse und Wurstköder unangerührt bleiben. Wir sind wieder rattenfrei!

Angenagt

...oder doch eher die Ratte. Ich bin am verzweifeln. An unserem letzten Tag in Port Ghalib fand ich eine angefressene Kartoffel auf der oberen Koje in der Bugkabine. Die Hälfte der Kartoffel war abgekaut. Mir war sofort klar, dass wir ein Tier an Bord haben müssen - ein großes. Wie sonst sollte eine Kartoffel aus unserem Korb heraus kommen. Selbst die Kinder wissen, dass das Gemüse kein Spielzeug ist und hinein beißen würden sie erst recht nicht. Obwohl die Bissspuren fast von den Zähnchen der Kleinen stammen hätte können. Nein, eine Maus war das nicht. Wohl eher eine Ratte. Mir rollten sich die Fussnägel hoch. Ich durchsuchte unsere Bugkabine, fand aber nichts.

Natürlich hatten wir keine Falle an Bord. Renegade half aus. Allerdings trauten wir uns noch nicht die Falle zu aktivieren, da wir über Nacht nach Norden unterwegs waren. Wir hatten Bedenken einer Fehlzündung. Die Ratte musste weg und das beim ersten Mal, denn sonst würde sie die Falle in Zukunft meiden. Am nächsten Morgen kontrollierte ich die Lebensmittel - alles war in Ordnung. War sie vielleicht gleich wieder von Bord gegangen? Nein, war sie nicht! Ich hatte sie bei meiner Suchaktion versehentlich bei der Ankerwinsch eingesperrt. Joshua hörte sie. Jetzt wussten wir wenigstens wo sie war. Der Capitano wurde kreativ und schmiedete 101 verrückte Pläne sie dort heraus zu holen. Wir versuchten es erst mit einem Sack. Als das nicht funktionierte, ganz pragmatisch mit der Rattenfalle und Käse. Tür zu und warten. Ein halbe Stunde später schepperte es. „Das war‘s“ - dachte ich.

Schwarze Männer

Auf unserem Weg nach Marsa Abu Makhadiq, erhielten wir einen Funkspruch von der Windchase. Aus ihrem Plan Suez zu erreichen war auch nichts geworden. Ihre Maschine streikte - Totalausfall. Und das hier im Roten Meer mit all den Riffen und dem Gegenwind. Sie segelten momentan und würden am nächsten Morgen auf Höhe von Marsa Abu Makhadiq sein. Wir planten sie in die Bucht zu schleppen. Aber als wir ankamen, hatten sie es bereits geschafft. Nur zum Anker einfahren, zogen wir sie kräftig mit Moya zurück. Der Anker hielt, das war auch wichtig, denn 35 Knoten Wind sollten einmal mehr über uns hinweg fegen. Wir schäkelten besser mal unseren Zweitanker an unsere Kette, damit sich die Windlast auf zwei Anker verteilt.

Die beiden Peter von Renegade und Melipal waren Motorexperten, beide verschwanden zusammen mit Paul für zwei Tage auf die Windchase und kriegten in mühevoller, schweißtreibender Arbeit in der engen Motorbilge die Maschine wieder in Gang. Danach waren sie von Kopf bis Fuss schwarz, genauso wie das Schiff - aber die Maschine lief wieder. Es war wieder einmal Wahnsinn, wie verlässlich, hilfsbereit und gut die Segler zusammenarbeiten. Die Community ist einfach großartig, wirklich jeder tut was er kann, wenn ein anderer in Not ist. Paul und Sue hatten schon das zweite Mal auf ihrer gerade einmal acht monatigen Reise aus Neuseeland befürchtet, dass ein Defekt das Ende ihrer Segelreise bedeuten würde. Schon in Indien wäre um ein Haar ihr Mast gekippt, und nun war es die Maschine.

Nach Sonnenuntergang

Da weder Mann nach Maus mehr auf die Windchase gepasst hätten, arbeiten wir inzwischen an unserer To-Do-Liste. Unser Vergaser des Außenborders musste mal wieder gereinigt werden, genauso wie die Polster im Salon. Der Niedergang brauchte einen neuen Anstrich und der Lack an der Leiste im Salon wartete auch auf eine Erneuerung. Das Relingnetz war nicht mehr weiß, sondern rot von Staub der Wüste, es musste zum Waschen runter. Die Jungs sind inzwischen so groß, dass sie uns prima bei den Arbeiten unterstützten. Am Abend gingen wir dann mit einem Bärenhunger an Land, um Einzukaufen und Essen zu gehen.

Die ganze Bucht ist zugepflastert, alles gehört hier einem Mann, der nicht aufhört, immer weitere Hotels bauen zu lassen, ganz egal, ob die anderen leer stehen oder schon wieder nieder gerissen werden. 2002 gab es hier in der Bucht noch gar nichts und nun findet man kein freies Plätzchen mehr an der Küste. Zwischen den Hotels, Hotelskeletten, Rohbauten und Baustellen fanden wir schließlich ein Restaurant. Bestellen konnten wir aber noch nicht. Seit Sonntag hat der Fastenmonat Ramadan angefangen und bei Sonnenuntergang gibt es dann Frühstück, für Koch, Kellner und alle. Die Straßen und Lokale liegen für eine halbe Stunde verlassen, bis auf die Gäste. Wir fasteten also auch, wenigstens ein bisschen.

Zerstörung

Als die Kids im Bett waren, schauten Christian und ich noch einen Film. Zumindest bevor mich der Schlag traf. Da rannte doch tatsächlich eine Ratte direkt auf meinen Kopf zu in Richtung Gemüsenetz. Ich konnte es kaum glauben, dass wir tatsächlich noch ein zweites Tier an Bord haben sollte. Die musste schon die ganze Zeit da sein, denn hier liegen wir vor Anker. Im Nachhinein ärgere ich mich unheimlich, dass wir in Ghalib das erste Boot neben dem Hotel und den Mülleimern waren. Zur Sicherheit hatten wir noch Klebefallen gekauft. Wir stellten unser Arsenal auf, aber das Tier ist schlau und mittlerweile auch zu unseren Lebensmittel Vorräten vorgedrungen. Innerhalb einer Nacht verwüstete Sie einen guten Teil davon, frass sich durch Reispackungen, Milchtüten und Keksschachteln. Jetzt sind alle Lebensmittel in Plastikkisten verpackt und stehen in der rattenfreien und -dichten Vorderkabine. Heute nacht gibt es nur noch Käse und Wurst in zahlreichen Fallen ...

Unsere Pläne Luxor zu besuchen und ein bisschen zu entspannen legten wir ad Akta und sind nach 3 Tagen und jeder Menge Gerenne wieder unterwegs. Die Wettervorhersage warf einmal mehr unsere Planungen über den Haufen. Stürmischer Wind ist ab Montag Abend für unbestimmte Zeit angesagt. Wir standen somit vor der Entscheidung die nächsten Wochen in Port Ghalib auszuharren oder uns eben am besten gestern schon auf den Weg nach Norden zu machen. Wir kauften Lebensmittel ein, tankten und genossen die Urlaubsatmosphäre der Hafenpromenade mit den vielen Restaurants, Bars und Kneipen und der dahinter liegenden kleinen Einkaufsstraße. Nach so langer Zeit im „wilden Westen“ war es einfach wunderbar mit den drei befreundeten Crews Kebab zu essen und ein Bier trinken zu gehen. Das Beste: Es gab sogar Eis - richtig leckeres, frisch hergestelltes! Das mag vielleicht albern klingen, aber für uns war das ein bisschen wie Weihnachten.

Gleichzeitig versuchten wir unsere Papiere zu organisieren. Obwohl wir einen Agenten hatten, was seit Oktober 2018 Pflicht ist, gab es immer noch jede Menge Papierkrieg. Allein zum Tanken musste unser Bootsstempel ganze acht Mal herhalten. Die Bürokratie Ägypten stellt alles was wir bisher erlebt haben in den Schatten, selbst die Formalitäten in Indonesien oder Sri Lanka wirken auf einmal simpel. Um für uns eine nationale Clearance zu erwirken, musste unser Agent persönlich nach Hurghada fahren (das sind fast 200 km) um dort die Papiere von den Offiziellen unterschreiben zu lassen. Aus kulturellen Gründen ist ein Fax nicht akzeptabel. Kein Wunder, dass der Gute 48 Stunden vor unserer Abreise informiert werden wollte. Aus einer Weiterfahrt gestern wurde somit nichts, aber dafür hatten wir heute Nachmittag dann endlich alle nötigen Dokumente in der Hand. Es ist der absolute Wahnsinn welch Wasserkopf da gefüttert werden muss, eigentlich kaum zu glauben, wenn man die Formalitäten mit der Einreise per Flugzeug vergleicht. Aber es kommt noch bizzarer: Um die starken Winde abzuwettern, überlegten wir als nächstes eine Marina in der Hurghada Ecke anzusteuern, da wir es nach dem verlorenen Tag nicht mehr bis Suez schaffen werden. Wir kontaktierten die Marina, die uns darüber informierte, dass wir, obwohl wir schon offiziell im Land eingereist sind und alle Papiere in der Tasche haben, noch einmal in Hurghada einchecken müssen. Anderen Cruisern zufolge kostet das 1000 USD. Ob das stimmt, oder die Papiere nur unentgeltlich geprüft werden wissen wir nicht, aber wir riskieren das besser nicht und ankern stattdessen. Mit dem Geld kann man schöneres machen, als Stunden am Steg auf die Offiziellen zu warten.

Nach all den positiven Erfahrungen auf unserer Reise scheinen wir nun wieder in den Fängen des Kapitalismus zu sein. Die Dollarzeichen in den Augen der Menschen hier sind unverkennbar. Wo viele Touristen sind wird eben Geld verdient. Da zahlt man dann auch schon mal das 8-fache für eine SIM Karte oder so viel wie eine Nacht im Hotel, wenn man nur den Hotelpool nutzen möchte. Über den Tisch gezogen wird man auf alle Fälle.

Die Tage am Riff waren wunderbar. Die bunten Korallen und Fische der lebendige Unterwasserwelt luden immer wieder zu einem Sprung ins Wasser ein, unsere Segelnachbarn auf einen Kaffee. Trotzdem wollten weiter - zurück in die Zivilisation und ein Stück näher ans Mittelmeer. Die vor zwanzig Jahren aus dem Boden gestampfte Marina Port Ghalib mit den vielen dazu gehörigen Hotelanlagen erschien uns brilliant, die Füße endlich wieder an Land zu setzen, nicht nur um unsere Kaffeevorräte wieder auf zu füllen und vielleicht sogar einen Blick auf das alte Ägypten zu erhaschen. Unsere Mitsegler hingegen wollten sich den Stress der ägyptischen Bürokratie noch nicht geben und statt dessen Marsa Alam erkunden, also verabschiedeten wir uns leider -wie so oft- schon nach wenigen Tagen.

Mit den letzten Sonnenstrahlen verließen wir die Lagune und tuckerten bei spiegelglatter See Richtung Norden. Man, waren wir schnell! Schon vor 9 Uhr am nächsten Morgen lag Moya sicher vertäut am Zollsteg. Zwei Mann hatten bereits dort auf uns gewartet und grüßten uns mit strahlendem Lachen „Welcome to Egypt“. Das fing ja toll an. Unser Agent kam wenig später dazu und begann mit dem Papierkrieg. Nach multiplen Läufen verschiedenster Personen von Moya ins Hafenbüro und Bergen an Papier, die natürlich gestempelt werden mussten, waren wir vor 11 Uhr durch mit dem Papierkram. Quarantäne war auch schon an Bord gewesen, um die Impfpässe zu kontrollieren, Fieber zu messen und die Hygiene an Bord zu checken. Jetzt fehlte nur noch der Zoll und der Sicherheitscheck. In einer halben Stunde, hieß es.

Unsere Funke rauschte „Moya, Moya, Moya, this is Melipal“. Peter war aus Marsa Alam davon gejagt worden und nun auf dem Weg nach Port Ghalib. Der Hafenmeister hatte mitgehört. Jetzt ging nichts mehr. Die langsamen Prozesse wurden eingefroren. Drei Stunden später halfen wir Peter sein Schiff zu vertäuen, wir waren noch da. Weitere vier Stunden später traf schließlich Renegade ein, die erst am Morgen am Riff gestartet war, wir waren immer noch da. Die Kids machten Terror, sie wollten ein Eis, sahen die Touris in Badehosen hinter dem Tor vorbei laufen und gegenüber am Riff schnorcheln. Ich konnte mitfühlen. Auch ich fand, dass das Ganze Prozedere an Folter grenzt. Nach sage und schreibe 10 Stunden, die Sonne war schon untergegangen, erhielten wir die Freigabe in die Marina einzulaufen. Und wir waren froh! Auf die ganze Nacht am Zollsteg zu liegen und nicht von Bord zu dürfen, hatten wir überhaupt keine Lust. Am Marinasteg wartete Windchase, sie wollte eigentlich am Tag zuvor Richtung Suez segeln, aber die Herrschaften hatten die Papiere nicht rechtzeitig fertig gekriegt und dann war das Wetter-Fenster wieder mal zu.

Mit Löchern im Magen suchten wir den schnellsten Weg zu etwas essbarem. Das Mittagessen war ausgefallen, die halbe Stunde war ja schon rum und die Offiziellen konnten jeden Moment auftauchen. Das Marina Lodge Resort bot Buffet an. Wir schlugen zu und fühlten uns wie im Schlaraffenland. Mit strahlenden Gesichtern machten wir uns alle über die Salattheke her. Juhu, Vitamine, die mussten sogar noch vor dem Fleisch her.

Wow! I never have imagined swimming with a whole school of dolphins in the middle of nowhere. It always has been terrific to watch the animals a the bow playing, jumping and swimming, but being in close contact is something else - a unique experience. More than 50 dolphins have been around. Sometimes they were so close that we could touch their skin. There were dolphin mums with their babies, dolphin couples swimming belly to belly and larger groups cuddling or squabbling. It looked like fun.

It was obvious that they were long accustomed to humans. Each of the 17 diving boats, that were lying in the bay at that day, dropped their around 20 guests virtually on top of the dolphins. We were lucky, that first when we arrived in the lagoon, we have been all alone with the dolphins. The show was ours. Later we needed to share the animals. Soonest, we have had enough from all the people „hunting“ the dolphins getting better views or shots. We fled back aboard, but the animals kept swimming between the humans without any inhibitions. We don’t know whether the diving boats are feeding the animals, at least we didn’t watch them feeding. Apparently, the dolphins are visiting the lagoon almost daily. The name already tells the story.

On the nose

It was taking us three whole days to arrive at the dolphin reef. The 200 miles from Khor Shinab we would usually sail in less than two days, but with the winds on the nose and our stubbornness to limit our engine time, we spent more time tacking. Winds around Cape Ras Banas are always a bit stronger. It would have been favourable to pass the cape in light winds or calm weather. But the weather window was short and closed already, when we finally arrived in the night at the cape. 25 knots on the nose. Already during the day the wind had picked up. To avoid falling through the boat we were kneading the dough for the bread on the floor. The kids used our shopping bags to luge down the slope. I was once more impressed about the creativity of the little ones.

It’s getting complicated

During the last weeks we repeatedly heard cruisers saying via email, in the internet or in real life „I’m fed up by the Egyptians“. Compared to last year October, clearance costs in Port Ghalib increased ten fold. Visiting Hurghada requires clearance again and even is more expensive. Even with a valid cruising permit landing ashore is a nightmare everywhere else. In Suez everyone will be ripped and sailing to Port Said is only advisable when having a booking for a mental clinic. Since 1st of April Ghalib suddenly asked for yellow fever vaccination to enter the country when approaching from Sudan according to fellow yachtsman.

Already now, before entering the country, we can confirm part of the stories. Our quote for clearing at Ghalib is exorbitant including non sense such as car hire cost to visit authorities despite them being around and being conduced by a long established tourist company. Respective firm, currently holds the monopoly to act as an agent, required for clearance at Ghalib and mildly speaking is making use of the position. Other cruisers started boycotting Ghalib, but we barely have an alternative as we are currently just living on rice and pasta.

Also the coast guard appears to be overeager. An egyptian war ship contacted us letting us know that we were sailing in restricted waters. Indeed we even were sailing outside of egyptian in international waters. Let’s see how this will continue for us. Meantime, I’m wondering whether there might be a connection to mass tourism and money.

Dolphin reef

Undisputed, there are tourists around. Yesterday morning, when we entered the lagoon of the reef after dawn, we noticed 10 large motor yachts at anchor. Each of them carried a bunch of diving tourists, who are living on board for a week or two exploring the reefs. To our delight, on the other side of the lagoon, also two sail boats, Melipal and Rennegade, were anchoring. The Malteasean and Austrian couples together with the crew of Windchase have been enduring the strong winds of the last days only 20 miles to Khor Shinab.

Straight after breakfast we jumped in our wet suits and into the water. For the first time since almost two years we really needed the suits. Now, we finally get what the Australian Greg meant when saying „Greece is great, but the water is freezing“. At that time we thought „you probably missed swimming in the baltic sea“ but now we are spoiled too. The dolphins haven’t been visiting, but snorkelling at the reef still was great. The water was crystal clear. Water that clear we last time have been seeing in the Tuamotus, except for Sanganeb. In the afternoon, we had great fun with the crews of the other boats. It was great to talk to other people. When hearing „you don’t sail in the northern Red Sea“, our 120 miles under sails to come here suddenly felt great and not like failure.

Calm

Yesterday morning, when we woke up something was missing. Only when I climbed up in the cockpit I figured what it was: the howling of the wind. Moya was sitting in the motionless water, smooth as silk. Nine days long, her bow pointed to the north, now she was swinging loose around her chain. The lacking wind catalyzed our activities on board. Within minutes, we have been ready with breakfast, with our morning routine and with launching the dingy. We dingied ashore. Finally! We have been still on the water, when the wind was switched on again. We could clearly see the frontier of wind in the water. Here it was again, but this time at human force. After tying up Tilly, our dingy, we went for the dessert. The boys found gras hoppers, camel traces, little bushes and zillions of conches, which somehow appeared displaced. The hills around the Marsa attracted us. We have been looking for a path up in between the sharp rocks. From atop we had amazing views far into the dessert. I was wondering how terrible it must be to walk all the way through the dessert to find the water of the Marsa, salt water.

Dictator wind

Without the force of the wind, we would have loved to explore the Marsa further. For the first time, we were seeing the reefs from close up. The aquamarine water, the colourful coral were inviting for a dive, the sandy cliffs for playing. Despite all of that, we had to leave. The winds dictates. After all this time in the bay, we wouldn’t risk staying here any longer. Just two days northerlies were forecasted to strongly decrease. But after visiting the dessert, winds were fresh again. Significantly decreased as to the last days, but far from perfect. We lifted the hook and left the protection of the Marsa. Waves were breaking on both sides of the pass and on the offshore reefs, which are clearly to point out in these conditions. Swell was still considerable. Beating against it up north under engine would be a possibility, but neither a comfortable nor a fast one. We began tacking instead, going threefold way. Our plans of anchoring at dolphin reef tomorrow morning are obsolete already. Let’s see how long it is going to take or whether we have to find a secure spot underway before the next wind wave strikes.

Easter Bunny has been visiting

Yesterday in the morning the boys have been waking us up as they stumbled over coloured easter eggs and even found easter baskets. Apparently, the Sudanese bunny somehow made it on board. But the basket didn’t contain chocolate eggs or chocolate bunnies. They must have melted on the way through the dessert. The boys still had a blast. The day before, we had jointly been baking easter nests, easter bunnies and chicken. They were supposed to be presents for the easter bunny, but must have been overlooked. This way, we had some variety, when having breakfast, as our supplies are slowly running low.

Trapped on board

It’s time to leave this place. For one week, since we arrived in the marsa, we are sitting on board and haven’t been ashore. Everyone is well now, but the wind still is blowing full force. I just read 38 knots on our meter, which is not even measuring the gusts. It really is stormy. Even without hoisted sails Moya is slightly tilted. Our wind generator usually is barely hearable, but now is making noises like Moya soon is going to take off. We are therefore switching it off most of the time. But when we are making water, it is switch on to refill our batteries. Our dingy is lying at the foredeck. It’s impossible to launch it currently. Winds even were forcing a plate out of Christians‘ hands, when he wanted to dump potatoes peel into the water.

Our hook was holding well, until winds strengthened further. We noobies had missed to drop our full anchor chain. It’s quite embarrassing. Moya first moved sideways to the wind, then slowly began to drag towards the reef. Before the anchor alarm started peeping, I was in the cockpit and Christian at the ignition key. We lifted the hook by show of hands. Outside, communication by talking and even shouting hasn’t been possible for days. The howling of the wind drowns out everything else. Two years practicing at the anchor payed out. After 30 minutes Moya safely lies at anchor again, full chain out, in some distance to the reef. As tomorrows’ forecasts is similar to today, we are planning to tie our second anchor to our main chain for increasing the weight and reducing the force pulling at our main anchor. Usually, winds are slightly decreasing before sunset. That’s gonna be the time. Equally strong winds over such a long period of time, we just experienced in Columbia, over one year ago. Considering the constant flow of air, one might wonder whether in the mediterranean has some air left, at all. We are crossing our fingers, that we are out of here in three days from now.

Northerlies

Winds arrived as scheduled and are blowing at full force ever since. With these winds we haven’t been leaving Moya. Despite sitting in a lake like Marsa, waves are building in the short distance from shore. The dingy ride would have been wet for sure. Our current situation is more like a passage with getting some sleep.

Raiding our medicinal cabinet

Not only the weather held us on board. It was Joshua, too. Since we arrived he dragged himself from his berth to the salon and back again. First he was complaining about a headache, later also about a sore throat. Indeed his tonsils were covered with white pus spots and he was boiling. I put him instantly on antibiotics. Yesterday in the morning, his condition was more or less unchanged and we decided getting a consultation from Medico in Germany and started working on emergency plans - again. Tacking between the reefs into the strong wind towards egypt we consider difficult or maybe even dangerous, going back to Port Sudan would be a safe alternative, however we would loose several days and still remain in Sudan, depending on its health system. Calling a car to the street behind the Marsa for getting to Port Sudan would have the same downside. Probably, we would have crossed the Red Sea to Jeddah. Saudia Arabia usually is out of limits for yachts, however in an emergency situation we would have been allowed to enter the country, which probably has an improved health system as compared to the Sudan. But it didn’t come to that.

Calling the physician from Medico was a big relief. He confirmed my layman diagnosis, as well as the medication for Joshua. Moreover, he promised us professional help in case the antibiotics would continue failing to work and Joshi would need a doctor. Medicos main task is to medically consultant commercial ships, therefore they are well connected with similar institutions around the world. In the end the call worked fine, Joshi felt better within a few hours and today behaves naturally already.

Good Friday on the water

Winds are covering Moya in sand and we continue remaining below deck. Whether the easter bunny will find his way into the dessert and is able to come on board, is far from sure, but if he does, he would be glad. The boys were drawing pictures, crafted cups to hold the easter eggs and coloured some eggs to decorate our saloon. Let’s see what we are coming up with next.

Marsas are large, river like clefts of the sea into land. On both sides they are lined with fringing reef. Khor Shinab is a large Marsa leading several miles into land and even beyond hilly chains. Late afternoon, after several hours of poking around, we dropped anchor here.

Already at Sanganeb reef, yesterday at a little stop over at the Talia island and now today we had serious difficulties finding a suitable spot for dropping our hook. Apparently, the bottom of the Red Sea is covered with coral, which are building canyons below the water surface. Grounds are uneven and mostly are far too shallow or far too deep for anchoring. For biological reasons, we don’t want to anchor on coral, but even if we took aside our ecological concerns, the anchor wouldn’t hold well and there would be significant risk that we would loose it, as it easily tangles and is getting stuck around the coral. The Red Sea has the most terrible anchor grounds of our voyage. If you were here, you could see the relief in my face, each time the hook eventually is holding.

Currently, the anchor is holding well, and it needs to, as tonight strong northerly winds are forecasted to rise and will be blowing for 10 days in a row. At the moment, Moya lies in a calm and the weather change is hard to imagine. But recent experience told us that winds can change as quickly as by a switch. Also tonight winds are supposed changing direction 180° within an hour. We had hoped to meet Windchase here again, but we are all alone. There is also no village, just water, dessert and Moya. I guess the 10 days until our departure might be getting long, but there is barely an alternative. 30 knots of winds on the nose are better being sit out.

Late afternoon we eventually made it ashore. We took Tilly and dingied to the small island. There was no pontoon or anything really where we could fix her. At some spot there were tyres lying over the rumble and a line was fixed in the bottom, where we tied up the dingy. We landed in the midst of ruins. Debris is everywhere, not only at the little island of old Suakin, but also on the street enclosing the harbour. There is barely any construction which can be recognised as a building. Every single one is damaged, even the mosques. On board I have been wondering that I couldn’t here the muezzins call for prayer. Now I saw that he is calling without a mic, just like that. The people are living in, shacks would be an exaggeration, between the debris. On the street we have been meeting mostly men and kids, but barely any women. Everybody was very nice and welcoming, smiling and shouting welcome or assalamu alaykum in our direction. We were walking through the dusty streets, not so sure any more, whether we indeed wanted to eat ashore. Even if there was meat we wouldn’t order it, the chance to catch something appeared high. Eventually, we had the courage to enter a hut and I was relieved when the guy served fried fish, bread and unopened bottles of Sprite. It was delicious.

In the morning we went to the farmers market and purchased tomatoes, carrots, some kind of cucumbers, potatoes, onions, bananas and melons. It was quite an experience to see how the people work. Weighing one kilo tomatoes with the same stone as 2 kilo potatoes. Education indeed seem to be neglected, we couldn’t convince a shop owner, that we gave us too much change. Also Moyas fuel tank has been filled already, the captain has been working hard with multiple jerry cans.

The events of Khartoum are leaving us widely untouched. The only thing we noticed of the presidents step down and the military take over was that social media are blocked and some internet pages censored. If I haven’t been reading the news I would have no clue about the current proceedings. All is well. No worries.

How annoying! It’s 4 pm now and we are still stuck on board. Since 9 am this morning Moya is lying at anchor in front of the circular little island of old Suakin. We have a great view on the ruins of the once mighty port. Unfortunately, views are still from Moya. My legs are itching, they want to walk.

The coral buildings of old Suakin are completely collapsed. The historic city looks like it has been destroyed by a major earthquake, or as I’m imagining a city after bombing attacks. The city is damaged since ages and keeps dilapidating ever since. Today one barely recognises any kind of building. Since the foundation of Port Sudan in the beginning of the last century, the city lost its importance as sole and major port of Sudan and became a ghost city. Despite all of that, the farmers market as well as shops are supposed to still being around this area, which currently is hard to believe from our perspective. But we will see.

Mr. Mohamed has been visiting us two hours ago, we were filling in the papers, now he is with the officials for our inbound clearance. In the meantime we are still stuck, but luckily he left a SIM card (internet works surprisingly well) and sudanese pound, thus we are ready to go once he returns with our passports and the shore passes.

Eventually, the desired winds started blowing. First we were going downwind, but all too soon winds shifted to the east and then northeast, which makes it impossible to approach Suakin directly. We are tacking. Nevertheless, we will reach Suakin tomorrow, only 70 miles to go.

Currently, we are sailing between the Sudanese coast and the reefs offshore and preparing ourselves for our landfall. The boys have been preparing a huge bag inserting a good part of their toys as presents for the poor Sudanese children. It hasn’t been easy for them to separate from their Lego Duplo and other things, but they wouldn’t allow that kids don’t have anything to play with at all. I sorted out worn out and too small kids clothes, for which we probably also find a recipient. In 2013 (more current data not available on board), the Sudan were rated on position 166 of the human development index list and therefore is among the 25 least rated countries. The index is not only considering the brutto national income per person of a given country, but also life expectancy, standard of living and education of its people. The likelihood for Sudanese people to develop, is therefore even decreased as compared to people of Papua New Guinea (position 157) and Vanuatu (position 131), the so far poorest countries we have been visiting on our voyage. Unbelievably, just 49% of women and 71% of men are capable of reading and writing. Luckily, we still have a few books, pens and pencils as give aways, leftovers from trading in the Louisades.

Mr. Mohamed, our agent, is informed about our upcoming arrival and is already starting to organise our inbound clearance and fuel for Moya. We are already very much exited about visiting Suakin and the African continent.

After 24 days at sea we have been on land yesterday. I guess, going ashore wasn’t 100% legal, but the heat on board was hardly bearable. The sun was burning, the air unmoving. We were jumping into the water from the boat and were setting up a little blow up boat the kids were using as mini pool on our aft deck, but it wasn’t the same as playing at the beach. White sandy beaches were waving at us, wildly. On Entaasnu we didn’t see anything apart from water, sand and sea gulls. We finally decided to launch Tilly. The greenish water was crystal clear, even in 5 meters we have been observing fish swimming between bits of coral.

On land, it was hot as well and there was no shade at all. As we were setting up our beach umbrella, a load of rust spoiled over our feet. The statistics now is counting one more victim of the aggressive salt water atmosphere, which was making the umbrella rust from inside. It did it’s job one more time. As we were fighting with the umbrella, the kids were running along the waterline chasing sea gulls. Afterwards we walked along the coast and spotted a thousand hermit crabs, an amazing red crab, wonderful conchs and a huge skull of a bird, maybe of a pelican. Despite wearing swimming shirts and protection factor 50 sun screen, we couldn’t stay long. We were feeling dessert isn’t far.

Late afternoon we pulled our hook deciding to motor during the night. Luckily, almost half of our fuel is left. Now, we are waiting badly for the desired southerly winds.

In case you carefully tracked our position, you surely noticed that we already passed Massawa, our initial destination. We didn’t skip Massawa for touristic reasons, the city actually has a dense and interesting history, we continued sailing once again for the weather.

Generally, the macro weather situation in the Red Sea is predictable. During the winter in the southern part southerly winds are prevailing, whereas in the northern part winds are mainly blowing from the north. In between, approximately at the boarder of Eritrea and Sudan, winds are converging resulting in any kind of weather. During the summer, in the whole Red Sea northerly winds are prevailing. In other words head winds if one is traveling northbound. Additionally, a number of local less foreseeable effects are common: the Khamsin is occurring in the northern part and is carrying dust and sand from the Sahara; the Belat is a phenomenon of the southern part, blowing in up to gale force from the arabic peninsula resulting in big seas; the Haboob, a gale force wind, occuring at the Sudanese coast; and the Kharif a northerly wind originating in Somalia. Mildly speaking, the weather in the Red Sea is a real challenge.

Therefore, we are currently trying to make use of the last bits of northerly winds, avoiding the head winds as long as possible. Yesterday, northerly winds were predicted for tomorrow, which is for this longitude and time of the year rather unusual. Thus, we decided to straight head for Suakin in Sudan accepting the downside to cope with our empty pantry. Today, it is rather unclear whether the northerly winds will indeed reach us.

We already sailed to the island of Harmil, seeking for shelter against northerly winds and swells. Our hook barely touched the water surface when a little boat rushed to us. Three man were on board asking for our papers. Apparently, the situation was new to them and they were uncertain what to do with us. Finally, the went away with our documents promising to return. I was a little wary about that from the start, the captain however absolutely relaxed from hair to toe. Just before sunset they finally returned making us move. Harmil is supposed to be a military restricted area, but we were welcome to anchor on the neighbour island Entaasnu, where we are currently located, not so well protected against winds and swell.

Yesterday, we caught a bluefin tuna for the very first time. By the time of landing we just knew it was a tuna, but not which species exactly. Bluefin tunas are also called giant tunas as they can get as large as 15 feet and as heavy as 650 kg. Out catch was a small one, but it has been fighting as if it was huge. Later we figured out, that we actually pulled out a small treasure out of the sea.

I reckon, that our little fellow was between two and three years old, 1 meter long and weighted approximately 10 kg. If my assessment is correct, it has been a tuna teenager not being reproductive, yet. That’s a real pity, as bluefin tunas are endangered due to overfishing. Bluefin tunas are also called red tunas for their amazing red meat, which also is staying red when fried. This type of tuna is not going to be canned, that’s their white fleshed relatives such as the bonito or the yellowfin tuna. Red tuna is a delicacy. If you are ordering tuna sushi or sashimi in a sushi restaurant, you’ll most likely get bluefin tuna on your plate. Unbelievably, 80% of all red tuna, which is most abundant in the Atlantic Ocean, is currently being exported to Japan precisely for this purpose. For years a total fishing ban is being discussed, but unfortunately it never was executed. Therefore, it’s not unlikely that bluefin tuna might just be available in high end restaurants in near future.

Also our catch has been eaten raw as sushi and it was absolutely delicious. Even Joshua, who usually is refusing all kind of sushi, first gave it a try with restrain, but then wasn’t stopping eating until nothing was left at all. Thanks to the treasures of the sea and to your recipes we are not starving. We already tested all of them with positive marks. The children even were battling for the last bit of Mekkis Kartoffelsterz.

Today we are leaving the military controlled area, also known as high risk area or pirate alley. As we invested quite some time and efforts considering back and forth whether or not sailing through this area, I wanted to take the opportunity to sum up our views:

In our opinion it wasn’t coincidence, that our passage from the Maldives to the Red Sea went smoothly and secure. The Anti-Pirate Coalition is doing an amazing job in this area. A few nations are jointly and systematically ensuring security in a narrow corridor through the Golf of Aden into the Red Sea. The corridor, IRTC, together with the extending shipping lanes has an approximate length of 650 nm and is strongly used. During our 5 day transit we have seen hundreds of ships within the corridor, mostly tankers and freighters, but also yachts and cruise ships. Every day a navy air craft flew over us at least once, seeking radio contact and asking for the conditions on board. War ships we only saw one in real life and none on the AIS, which for two reasons make sense: Firstly, transmission of AIS signals would be contra produktiv informing pirates about the location and absence of war ships. Secondly, war ships patrolling northerly or southerly outside of the corridor is more effective in comparison to going in between the heavy traffic in the lanes. There can be no doubt about the abundance of war ships, we heard them daily multiple times on channel 16 or 8 radioing with freighters. Also reception of high distance AIS targets might have been related to the presence of ships or air crafts and usage of repeaters. For years, there haven’t been successful pirate attacks (also not against freighters) within the corridor, whereas pirate attacks have been prevalent outside this area. For example, during 2017, there have been 11 reports of attempted or successful pirate attacks against freighters along the Somalian east cost, all of them outside the corridor. Most likely, piracy also within the IRTC would undergo a renaissance in case of the termination of the military mandate of the anti piracy coalition. However currently, the watchkeepers seem to control the corridor effectively due to systemic, continuous monitoring, 24/7 communication with transiting ships and their military presence.

Overall, piracy against sail boats is a topic discussed heavily and emotionally between cruisers. Of course, that’s no surprise, as pirate attacks are affecting the well being of crews and ships. However, a glance into the statistics tells that less than five cases of attempted or successful pirate attacks have been reported yearly in recent years. Defining theft not as piracy, but cases of unauthorised boarding and violent robbery. Finally, the risk assessment is lying in the hands of the captain of each vessel, who has to judge about the relevance of single, but terrible cases on his ship and crew. Under the same circumstances, we would be starting again on passage to the Red Sea. During the whole duration of three weeks in the high risk area, we felt safe.

Currently, we are sailing full speed northbound. The northerly winds have been switched on in the morning and are now blowing at 30 knots, again much more than forecasted. Moya is flying over the waves of the disturbed seas, without main sail, just going with genoa and jib. Weather in the Red Sea is challenging, indeed.

Also for tonight winds directly on the nose have been forecasted. Beating another night into winds and waves were absolutely not appealing. Also, I felt a bit strange. But a good nights sleep and a break at anchor work miracles.

Since early in the morning swarms of black and white birds accompanied Moya. They surrounded her, took a break swimming and again flew just over the top of our mast or of our solar panels. It looked amazing, quite majestic. Joni and myself sat on the reeling for the good part of an hour just watching what they would do next. They wouldn’t leave us the whole day. Maybe they supposed we were a fishing boat loosing fish sooner or later? Late afternoon, we approached the little islands of Mersa Dudo, Eritrea. We chose to anchore here in the shade of Sadla island, protected against northerly winds and swells. A fishing boat was anchoring at our spot already. It was not big, quite small actually, and full to the top with fishing nets, bouys and seven black skinned men in colorful clothes waving at us. They were just lifting their anchor when we were approaching and I stopped pondering about something suitable to give away.

When preparing our anchor I noted large white shapes in the water. At first glance, I thought it must have been jerry cans or plastic bags, but at a closer look I realised white screens pulling some cauliflower like tentacles. There have been hundreds and they were huge, not all of them, but a few of the jelly fish were at least three feet in diameter. I instantly changed plans, swimming with the kids at anchor was out of reach now. We neither couldn’t go ashore as we have not yet cleared in and given the military presence. Therefore, I rather raided my hidden treasures and pulled out ice tea and jelly candy for a little welcome party.

This morning we all have been up and well awake early. Skies are misty. We once again are at sea, northbound, our passage is not yet over.

After more than 19 days at sea we spotted Land, twice. First, the to Djibouti belonging Seba islands, appeared in the haze on our port side. A little later then the island of Mayyun on the starboard side. Mayyun belongs to Yemen and lies just 2 miles off the coast. Joshua dearly liked to go for a visit and wasn’t comprehending at all, why the hell we were continuing sailing. Shootings are still something romantic in his childhood mind, no matter about our explanations. Not just because of the cival war, anchoring is not possible at Mayyun, it was restricted millitary area already before. But now Houthi rebells were lying sea mines off several yeminiti harbours off the western coast and there are reports about yachts being shot on. Yemen and its fore lying islands are absolutely tabu for us. Passing Bab el Mandeb through the coalition controlled shipping land will have been the closest approach to the country. With moderate winds from the aft we have been sailing through the gate to the Red Sea.

For 10 days, just before Soccotra, we have been intensifying our watches during the day. We tried to have always someone in the cockpit scanning the horizon for anything out of the norm. Just before entering Bab el Mandeb, I shouted for the first time „Christian, there is a skiff around.“ Actually, there were two of them, traveling southbound approximately half a mile away. The small, white, open boats are difficult to spot in the haze and between the white spray of the waves. Each boat was fully occupied and carried 5 men. We couldn’t see any fuel barrels, ladders or fishing nets and therefore couldn’t tell what they were up to. It was strange to see, two little boats in the shipping lane heading for the freighter traveling behind us. We continued watching them, but lost them when they were no more than a mile away, even using binoculars. From the distance it was quite difficult to tell who are the good and who are the bad guys. But we would rather bet on the good side, at least they didn’t approached us or any of the freighters behind us.

With dusk contrary winds have been rising. By then we already passed the narrowest part of Bab el Mandeb. Winds were blowing stronger as forecasted and for the first half of the night straight on Moyas nose. As we wanted to continue going north within the shipping lane, we had no other option as to motor against winds and waves. It wasn’t nice, at all. But before dawn we were sailing again, hard on the wind in Eritreas waters.

I needed to fool somebody at the first day of April. The selection of victims on boards is rather limited. Of course, we are NOT in Aden, but still sailing. Yesterday’s log was a hoax. I made everything up, but the empty vegi nets.

Indeed, our fresh produce is almost gone. Our last chance for shopping at a farmers market was in Galle, one month from now. Except for a few wrinkled apples, there are just a few onions, potatoes, eggs, a cabbage and a pumpkin left. My creativity is currently being challenged in the pantry. I even started to write down ideas instantly in order to not forget them. Food without meats, little cheese and almost no fresh produce gets boring soon. Not just because of the movement of the boat, I spend significant time each day in the pantry. Sometimes we need some variety in our menu even when preparing it takes some time: Home made Falafel, Spätzle, Pizza, Lentilballs, Rotis, Gnocchis all take some time to prepare, but it is worth it, otherwise we would face mutiny. Alternately eating rice and pasta is unbearable over time, at least without being in bad temper. In case you want to share a recipe for cooking with limited fresh stuff, leave a comment. Please! I would be delighted. Today our dinner is set, as we have been catching a barracuda, yesterday on the way to Bab del Mandeb. Today we are reaching the red sea, but it is still going to take several days to reach Massawa, as winds on the nose are forecasted.

Strong winds continued, Moya also today was flying over the waves. To reduce the wind pressure in our rigging, we pulled in our main sail and changed the sail configuration. We were hoisting the jib together with the poled out genoa and now were going in westsouthwesterly direction with two foresails and no main at all. Life on board was more comfortable now, Moya was almost moving at the same pace, but less rolling. Also with two set foresails our navigation capabilities are limited as it is just possible to go downwind.

Just after dusk, winds unexpectedly shifted to the SE. We briefly considered to change our sails again, but decided against the nightly work on the foredeck for the rough conditions. Instead we planned leaving the shipping lane and meeting her again later. The lane continues in WSW direction, but is turning to the NW not far from where we have been, thus moving directly to the west would be a shortcut with better wind angle at the same time. With the next gap in the line of cargo ships, we crossed and left the lane and switched our AIS transmitter off. Christian went for a nap and I set the timer for the nights watch. Outside of the lane I increased the time between the lookouts from 10 to 15 minutes, as I didn’t expect traffic.

The lack sleep over the last days must have been accumulating, as I must have been fallen asleep soon. My sleep was deep and sound and I didn’t hear the ringing of the timer. Usually, I’m waking Christian up at the end of my watch, but today I wasn’t. It was still dark, when I finally woke up. The timer was still ringing. I switched it off and went outside checking the sails and the traffic. All good, no light in sight. Looking on our GPS finally alerted me. It said course 303°, 4:31 am. I thought „That can’t be right!“ and tipped on our board computer waking it up from the standby mode. With a shock, I realised that it almost was dawn indeed and that I must have been asleep for most part of the night. Instead of sailing to the west, we have been sailing in northeasterly direction and now were located less than 10 miles from the coast of Yemen. Aden straight ahead. With shaking knees I went to wake up the captain.

Christian wasn’t sharing my shock. He had slept well and actually nothing happened really. „As we are here now, we could even go ahead visiting the town“. I’m not quite sure whether that’s the best idea, but he convinced me that we all needed a break and our empty vegi nets refilling. We are now lying at anchor in the port of Aden waiting for the officials. The land lies peacefully ahead.

No winds at all were turning to 25 knots, corresponding to 6 Beaufort wind force or strong winds. On land such winds move big branches of trees and you can hear a whistling in the air. 20 knots would have been sufficient for me. Yes, I know, stop complaining! Tonight, we had fun in these conditions.

Quite large wave were rolling through, raising Moya before letting her down again, each time pushing her to the left or right. Sitting crosswise to the sailing direction, it felt as bobbing about endlessly. Moya was sailing in between cargo ships and tankers, still lined up on both sides of her. She was moving westbound quickly, but was for hours gradually pushed out of the middle into the easterly going lane. We were going dead downwind or actually almost with winds from the false side, thus couldn’t bear away to sail back where we were supposed to be without risking unwanted violent gybing. Despite the boom being secured by a preventer, to hold it in place even with winds from the wrong side, we wanted to be on the safe side and not risk damaging our rigging. Bearing away was not an option, neither was moving on the wrong lane against the eastbound traffic. The forecast predicted a northerly current, that was supposed to push us back on the right course, but it wouldn’t come.

3am in the morning Moya was already moving almost half a mile within the wrong lane. We couldn’t ignore it any longer. We were hardening up our main, gybing and finally going crosswise to the shipping lane. We aimed to cross the middle lane, gybe again and go back on the same course as before. That way we wanted to avoid changing our sail configuration during the night. It was working. By now the current was setting in and we are back on track despite winds and swells. On the positive side: In these conditions pirates are definitely not coming for a visit. It would be suicidal with their small, open skiffs. We on the other hand are finally flying.

A blind passenger indeed, we spotted yesterday on the curtain in the saloon. It was a green tree bug, Nezara viridula. „Where is it coming from?“ we have been wondering and considering whether it might have been on board all way long or whether it might have been capable to fly all the way out from land. Tree bugs are great flyers, but it would have meant to fly at least 75 nm from Yemen or 100 nm from Somalia.

I was astonished even more, in the evening, after dinner. It was dark already and I was in the cockpit looking around and checking the sails. Finally, there has been sufficient wind to go sailing. At the same time, we had no swells and Moya was making 5 knots without any rolling. It was real fun! The condition were stable enough to go during the night with poled out genoa and spinnaker for once. This sail configuration is limiting our navigation capabilities as we are only able to go dead downwind. But the wind angle was suitable for sailing within the narrow middle line, we just needed to check course and sails more often.

so, I have been out in the cockpit checking, when I heard loud rhythmic noises. It sounded almost like whistling, or bird noices. „No, it is chirping“ I noticed after a moment amazed and called for Joshi and Joni „We have a cricket on board“. With a torch we started to look for the disturbance. My ears were ringing. I absolutely had no clue, that little male insects are capable to produce such loud noises with their wings. We found it fast, as the cricket just sat next to me. It wasn’t that small. For an insect, I considered it even quite large and brown. As I hadn’t been aware of seeing a cricket before, I couldn’t be sure that that’s one indeed, but the picture in wikipedia left no other conclusion. Most of their species are not even flying. How likely is it, that Moya carried the intruder for 15 days without chirping? It’s quite impossible to miss hearing it.

In the morning just before the daily radio chat with the japanese aircraft, we pulled in our spi. Winds have been increasing and became too strong for our light wind sail. We hoisted our main and celebrated that we finally escaped the calm. The sea has white spots of spray and Moya is rolling again.

For days we have been meeting an increasing number of freighters. Some of them we saw on the AIS screen only, some we watched passing on the horizon, some less than a mile from Moya. Now they are almost moving back to back. On our starboard side the freighters are going westbound, on our port eastbound, Moya sits comfortably and cosy in between. We have arrived at a shipping lane, which officially is none and go in the highway middle lane, so to say.

After not transmitting our AIS position and going in stealth mode over the last days, we switched on our transmitter again to avoid irritating freighters. Each morning over the last three days we have been seeing AIS targets up to 250 miles away. That is quite unusual, as even the strong signals from the cargo ships usually can not be received more than 50 miles away. We are wondering, whether MSCHOA is using mobil repeaters for improved monitoring of the traffic in this area.

The IRTC, internationally recognised transit corridor, is located in international waters and therefore is not connected to national laws and none binding for the ships. Despite its formal status, almost all ships are using the corridor, as the anti piracy coalition MSCHOA focuses in patrolling that area. Yesterday, a white plane was circulating above Moya and calling us: „Japanese navy aircraft for Moya“. They were asking for our next port of call and were informing us that communication on channel 16 is monitored by the coalition warships. During the night channel 16 was surprisingly busy, some of the men at watch on the cargo ships must have been bored and were spilling their mental garbage into the atmosphere.

When entering the corridor, there is just blue ocean, nothing indicates the shipping lane. But everybody knows exactly in which 5 miles wide corridor he is supposed to move. The 2 miles wide middle lane is even more narrow, which makes sailing a bit more tricky. However, currently this isn’t even relevant as the calm is continuing and a significant current is pushing us is easterly directions. We are motoring for more than 24 hrs against it, making just 4 knots. No issue for famous RSM Queen Mary 2. The brightly lit cruise ship was quickly passing us at 22 knots heading for Jordan.

It was 2 am, when Christian was waking me up for my nightswatch. The engine was rattling. Still no more than a trace of wind. „Our tank level shows just half full“ the captain informed me and opened one of the hatches in the floor next to Joni‘s berth. The tank level refers to our diesel day tank, which is supposed to always be full. As soon as the engine is working a pump would constantly push diesel from the keel tank over a filter into our day tank. Exceeding fuel would drop back to the keel tank via an overflow. Even I could tell something was wrong.

We hoisted the sails and cut the engine. The sails were hanging loose, but at least we have not been drifting uncontrollably, but were moving with one knot in westerly direction. Then, we pulled out some tools and instruments, before Christian started working in the bilge. „Ignition on! And off“ he was guiding me. Quickly, he figured that the fuel filter was blocked. That shouldn’t be a problem, as Moya owns a redundant pump system consisting of two independent pumps, each having its own fuel filter and is separately capable to fill the day tank. But after switching to the other pump, it was not working at all. Christian started to replace the fuel filters submerged in diesel clouds. After finishing one pump came back to life, the other one didn’t. Eventually, it must have been dying without notice. The captain decided to also replace the second diesel pump with a spare we luckily had on board. Sometimes it pays off that half of our space in Moya is filled with spares and tools.

It was 6 am when Christian finally went to bed. Half an hour later it has been clattering in the cockpit. I must have forgotten to pull in the fishing line yesterday evening. A small Bonito was on the line, which I was managing to pull in on my own. Joshua was watching. The night was over.

At dawn the slightest breeze was setting in. We are finally sailing again - very slowly, however.

Some of you wanted to know, how we organise our day when it’s calm. In the following, our schedule of the last 24hrs:

• 12:00 Uhr: We are changing our sail configuration from main sail and genoa to spi and genoa, hoping to catch the last bit of breeze.
• 12:45 Uhr: The calm weather is ideal to clean the boat. I’m cleaning the cabins shoo driving the kids. At some point Joshua decided to create a treasure hunt for Christian, who is uploading the current log file and downloading the latest weather forecast.
• 14:00 Uhr: Time for preschool. The boys are playing with numbers in english.
• 14:50 Uhr: “I’m hungry!” announces Joni. We forgot lunch all together. Quickly, I make french toast from our old bread.
• 16:30 Uhr: Post Lunch is prior to dinner. I bake Rotis. Christian is finishing reading „Emil und die Detektive“ to the kids. Thereafter, they disassemble Moya.
• 17:10 Uhr: No more breeze, we are motering. I prepare Falafel. It takes some time, as I need to make the chickpea flour from peas. The kids are listening to an audiobook and finally clear away today’s chaos. The captain starts the water maker and is filling water bottles.
• 18:30 Uhr: Dinner, washing the dishes, showering, brushing teeth, pulling in the fishing line.
• 20:05 Uhr: The Kids made it to their berths - puh, in the evenings they can be exhausting. Christian and I are watching a crime thriller with breaks for watches every 15 minutes.
• 21:40 Uhr: Our water tanks are full. The night is pitch black. The moon was not rising, yet. No stars tonight. But the water is glowing green at Moyas’ bow. The glowing also continues on her side, looking like polar lights in the water. Now and then a fish quickly fleas with a green tail. Also Moya pulls a long, shining comets tail. The glowing eventually is so bright that I’m taking photos in the dark. Once more, we are totally exited about nature’s wonders. Much too late Christian falls into his berth.
• 0:20 Uhr: 5 knots of wind. We are changing the sail configuration again not wanting to go by spi during the night. At least, we are going 3 knots.
• 3:15 Uhr: I make it from my berth to the cockpit. Looking around every 15 minutes.
• 5:30 Uhr: The sun will be rising soon. It’s dawn already. I’m waking Christian for the morning watch.
• 6:00 Uhr: Joni joins me in my berth.
• 8:15 Uhr: Breakfast. Our position has already been sent by email to the watchkeepers.
• 8:55 Uhr: Winds vanished again. We are starting the engine. The boys are playing Lego and sprint through the boat.
• 10:10 Uhr: Bathing time. Zero wind. We are leaving the main up. Putting just a line for security in the water and an adult on board. Other than that, it’s just us, 2000 meters of water and a beautifully flat ocean. The kids love it.
• 11:00 Uhr: Showering & motoring.
• 11:20 Uhr: We are playing Who is Who and Memory and preparing the dough for the bread backing this afternoon.
• 12:00 Uhr: The boys glue sticks together forming a turtle and paint it. Together, we’ll learn that there is 341 different kind of turtles. That turtles have an amazing sight far better than humans. That the biggest species the leather turtle gets as big as 2.5m and 900kg and the Aldabra giant turtle up to 250 years old. And some more amazing turtle facts.

Winds vanished. Totally. We have been hoisting our light wind sail, but even the spi just hangs on its halyard and slightly moves with Moya’s swinging in the almost non existent swells. There it is! The calm everybody was mentioning. Apparently, it is almost stationary northeast of Soccotra. At least that’s what our Grib files are telling already for weeks.

After just 17 engine hours since Uligan, we had no other choice than motoring, tonight. In the meantime, we are floating with less than 2 knots in the right direction. Winds dropped to 3 knots, but a slight westerly current pushes us forward. Henry gets a well deserved break, at least as long as I’m bearing the slowness. This clam is exceptionally frustrating as 200 miles to the west nice winds are currently blowing which might be fragile and not lasting. Missing these winds might be resulting in our passage taking much longer, as our large diesel stocks still are not quite sufficient for motoring the whole way.

The atmosphere on board is dense, our moods were dropping as winds were.

Soccotra is an island located 150 nautical miles off Somalias coast. Despite the proximity, the island belongs to Yemen and currently is administered by the United Arabic Emirates. As the civil war has not been reaching the desert island, as the passage to the red sea is long and since Soccotra is known as the Galapagos of the Indian Oceans, we strongly considered visiting. Currently, there barely is another option to visit this amazing island, as no secure flight connections exist. The island is endemic to many plant and animal species. For example, 90% of Soccotras reptiles are living nowhere else. Especially the pictures of the dragon blood trees and bottle trees growing just on the island have been very impressive.

Nevertheless, we finally decided against visiting. Why? - Well, the fees are significant. Alone the visa for a short visit would have been charged with 600 USD. But more importantly, we wouldn’t have been allowed to go ashore without a guide. Despite all of that, we were still considering, the final impulse gave - as always - the wind. The forecast predicts easterly winds in the Golf of Aden for the next week, which is not set so late in season. We are continuing our passage hoping that the forecast holds true.

Whether we actually will make it straight to the Red Sea to Eritrea is still uncertain, as winds at the narrow entry point Bab el Mandeb are strong and constantly shifting form northerly to southerly winds. We would need the wind behind the beam or no wind to go ahead. Alternatively we have to approach Djibuti. At least 850 miles are still lying ahead of us.

Some days ago we heard clashing in the cockpit. It was our fishing alarm, a few empty beer cans, connected to the fishing line. They did not only fall off, but have been catapulted through the cockpit. At that time I was kneeling dough for baking bread. “As usual, fish are biting when it’s most inconvenient.” crossed my mind, but I said “ I’m coming”. We always are landing fish jointly. I mostly pull the line and Christian is working the gaff once the fish is close. Just when we caught our largest fish, a 25 kg yellowfin tuna, I haven’t been strong enough to pull him in.

However, at that day we didn’t come this far. I was still cleaning my hand when Christian shouted “Stay! He ripped the line!”. “Heavens, he must have been a monster!” I instantly thought, as our fishing line is not a standard fishing line, but a 3mm rope with a long, 1.8mm monofilament leader. The rope indeed was ripped just before where it’s attached with a knot at the elastic buffer band. It was the same line we have been using to land the yellowfin. At that moment, I was glad the fish had vanished. I still have no clue how big it was, but landing definitely would have been impossible. We would have had to cut the line after a fight. I just hope, it managed to get rid of the line.

The next day, the captain made a new line and lure. It wasn’t taking long as the elastic band was not lost. At dinner, there again was rattling. But the line was loose, the lure still intact. Within minutes, same thing twice again. „Strange, we usually barely miss a fish, once the alarm goes off.“ I have been thinking when it rattled once more. This time something was pulling on the line. We went for our life jackets, the gaff, a knive and a torch - it was dark already - and I started pulling in the line. „Something is glowing from time to time, where the fish is supposed to be“ I noticed and then „That fish is looking strange, maybe it’s an octopus“. It was a 1m cuttlefish, constantly shifting its colour between glowing white and orange red. In the meantime the kids had made their way to the cockpit and now curiously watched as we craned in the thing with a bucket on deck. After detaching the hook we wanted to release him, however we changed our mind as we saw he was already close to dying. There will be Calamaris today!

It is uncommon to fish a cuttlefish by trolling. Apparently, we sailed through a big swarm. The hook went to the meat and was fixed to the funnel they usually use for pushing out the water to move. This way they are able to go quite fast. After all, he bit as we sailed 4 knots. Wikipedia says there is more than 250 different species of cuttlefish, the largest one is reaching 12 meter in length. That’s the same size as Moya! But luckily these guys are just living in the deep sea.

Yesterday, the sea was glowing in hundreds of large luminous patches around Moya, not the little spots we usually spot. I’m pretty sure, we disturbed some cuttlefish, again. It was fascinating! Neptuns fireworks for Joshi‘s birthday!

I’m wondering, whether the ocean is more healthy here, whether animals are using the area as a retreat. I don’t know! But at least we barely saw a freighter (they go the direct route, north of us), left alone a commercial fishing vessel.

Turning six is soooo exciting! Already before breakfast, Joshua was sitting in the saloon, ready to party with an eye patch, a pirate saber and a hat, starring at the presents on the table. Carefully, he moved them to his berth. Yesterday, we have been crafting to whole day and created our pirate accessories. Now, our little captain was looking great, jittery though. Even his usually huge appetite was missing for breakfast, he barely touched the raisins bread. Afterwards he was unstoppable. The treasure had to be opened.

Soon, all presents have been unpacked and we noticed that we forgot to download the audio files for the new tiptoi game. Now our little pirate could not even play with his novel toys. But he was six after all and bravely crafted instead. - Perhaps we could consider asking UKMTO for the files, they could drop them with one of their ships? In any case, there is no internet and what could be more important as a happy children‘s laugh?

Eventually, Joshua noticed the yellow note with a skull on it. It said „The treasure is located on a dark spot“ and also had a little riddle guiding to the next note. After 5 further notes and riddles, two of which actually have been solved by Pirate Joni Shortleg, and a voyager through Moyas deck and belly, the golden treasure was found. The small pirate gang was completely over the moon and Joni signed in for a treasure hunt for his next birthday. Afterwards, Emil and the detectives and Pettersson and Findus came visiting. Finally, a buccaneer with red and white striped sails was delivering the international birthday cake. It was baked with flour from Sri Lanka, eggs from the Maldives, sugar from Panama, cocoa from columbia, cocos oil from Papua New Guinea, milk from Indonesia and peaches from Curacao.

We are sailing too and ultimately make good progress. Tonight, the first time since we started our passage in the maldives, the wind wasn’t close to dying. So far the nights have been tough, whereas we at least had some winds during the days. Tonight that wasn’t the case. Just for once, the glance on the estimated time of arrival wasn’t resulting in a transient depression. Slowly, we are approaching Soccotra.

I would like to invite you to my birthday party tomorrow. This year we will have a pirate themed party on board our sailing boat Moya starting 2pm. It would be an exceptional pleasure to welcome my grandpas and grandma. We also have space for staying overnight. Creativity is asked for the commute, but I strongly believe you will come up with a solution. I‘m turning six after all. Catching a plane with a windlass would be an idea. There will be cake, too! Small presents will be fine! - Joshua

Yeaha! We got a little wind, 11 knots! That’s sufficient that we finally move a little faster. We are following the sun with unbelievable 4 knots. The trend indicator on board rises as the temperature does. Despite of the little winds during the last days, the chilly northerly breeze made our captain pulling out a blanket during the night. That is quite unusual as he even goes in T-shirts during the german winter. Our thermometer showed 27°C, but I believe this couldn’t be right, could it? With the shift of wind directions to the east, temperatures during the night are back to a comfortable level now.

Tonight the night was almost as bright as a cloudy day in Winter in Germany. The moon accompanied us during the night. In such nights nightswatches are easier. Instead of the pitschblack night, I could see the moons reflection in the sea, the clouds and the horizon. Our cruising timing appears quite fine at the moment. From now on the moon is melting away and only rises in the early morning in its last quarter. If we switch off our navigation lights, we would be invisible for the good part of the night. During that time we will cross the Golf of Aden, when our speed is not drastically increasing. Good to know, that we could merge with the night, if we wanted. However, we don’t plan for it, as to our knowledge pirate attacks during the night never occurred, even not on freighters.

Our engine is working again. The starter battery has arrived in Nirvana and one of our service batteries is now connected to the starter. The process of reconnecting was surprisingly smooth, mission accomplished after 30 minutes.

We continue slowly our way to the west. Winds shifted to the east and remain very light, always below 10 kts. Patience is not my strength and it’s being tested. On the positive side, we also almost have no swells, making Moya behave as if anchoring under blue skies, no cloud in sight.

Yesterday, we converted our saloon into an artists work shop. The boys have been serious about the message in a bottle. Both of them wanted to give the finder a glimpse into our daily life on board. Joni was drawing Moya in all details, mast, sails, deck saloon, windows, solar panels, wind vane, us in Moyas belly and fish in the ocean, nothing to be missed. Joshua was rather drawing Robinson Island, a wale jumping from a huge wave under a rainbow. Afterwards, we were cutting letters from coloured paper and created the message, before it finally went into the bottle and was sealed by the captain.

Despite sailing slowly, the bottle was out of sight soon after the boys posted their message - 700, 800 and 900 miles away from the Arabic Peninsula, India and Africa, respectively. “Who’s gonna find it?” Joshua wanted to know and was listening hard as we went through the options: We are close to the equatorial current. If the message hits it, it will be carried to the African coast. Somebody from Somalia or Kenya might find it there, or it might be carried further. Passing Madagascar into the Mozambic channel and further south with the strong Agulhas current to South Africa or even around the cape of good hope into the Atlantic Ocean. Alternatively, it might hit the easterly currents of the roaring forties for another oceans crossing until Australia’s western coast. Or, ... options are endless, and all good, but one, namely that the bottle finds its fortune in one of the garbage belts on land or sea. We would be happy to receive your bet when the message will be found in the comments section. The winner closest to the real reception date will get a small present (if the message will not arrive, we’ll loose all).

Ocean currents might be negligible at the first glance. However, the slightest one is easily increasing to a knot or so. At a traveling speed of 5 knots and a 2200nm mile passage, a 1 knot current means arriving after 15 or 23 days, depending on whether is flowing from the aft or onto the bow. That probably explains why we are sometimes zickzacking not only for favourable wind but also current. Tonight all forecast have been in vane, we’d hit an easterly current with one digit winds at the same time. We barely moved resulting in a disappointing etmal (distance of the last 24h) of only 76 miles. But the skies are blue!

... is waiting to be filled and sent. An empty Pinot Grigio bottle is already washed and sits in the cockpit for drying. Yesterday and the day before the captain and me therefore had the pleasure of drinking a glas of wine. Usually, we don’t drink alcohol on passage, but the ocean is clam and we need to consider alternative communication measures, as we were not able to send our current log update yesterday.

Unlike most cruisers, we are sending email via WinLink and SSB radio, not by IridiumGo satellite phone. Meaning that all letters of a given email would first be modulated by a software modem. The resulting noises would then be send as electromagnetic waves by our antenna, which is spanned between the aft deck and the mast top. Subsequently, a radio station would receive the message, translate it back to letters and finally send it as an email. This is slow. When we try to send an email from board it could easily mean spending one hour in front of our SSB radio. In that situation, receiving large emails or emails with attachments takes much longer or is not possible at all.

On many days we get a connection to a radio station - currently we use one in Mauritius mostly - within a few minutes. But sometimes it takes hours and many tries and sometimes getting in contact is not working at all. The later means it is not possible to post an actual log. For complaints please address the sun, not us, as she is responsible for the inadequate ionisation of our atmosphere and the resulting lack of reflection of our radio waves.

Yesterday, we spent hours in front of our SSB radio but finally failed to post the log. For our position update we phoned the watchkeepers directly. In such cases, also Flo, our security officer ashore, will be informed that we are fine within one or two days. He will put a short comment to the last post to tell we are fine, as yesterday evening. Don’t worry, if our log is not updated daily, it’s the sun, not the pirates.

And yes, we are still sailing with northerly winds on the nose.

... as is our engine battery. Why the hell is this happening? The day before yesterday our engine startet perfectly, as it did ever since we started our voyage back in Europe.

Already during the day winds decreased continuously until we found ourselves in a dead clam tonight. We have been warned that winds in the Arabic Sea are getting fickle towards April and May. Calms are typical for the transition time between the NE and SW monsoon. This was the main reason why we startet from Malaysia in a rush and skipped the desired visit in Thailand all together. Already back in Indonesia we have given up our long term sailing goal to cover at least 90% of the way while sailing and made sure Moya’s fuel tank is always close to full.

What we now needed was our engine Henry to run, but when Christian was turning the keys the starter only coughed in slow motion. Finally Henry started, but the battery voltage dropped below 9V. Probably an electrical short occurred in one of the cells caused by over the years settling lead sulfate. Apparently the battery dies quickly. It couldn’t have a better timing as in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Currently, the captain is studying plans of our cable system figuring out how to connect one of our service batteries to the engine starter. Those have been renewed last year.

The slightest breeze settled in during the night, thus we are sailing again at a snail’s pace.

Today the sky is covered with a thin sheet of white clouds. Winds increased in the meantime to an extent that Moya now is comfortably traveling at 5 knots. We make good progress, 103 nm in the last 24h under sails only.

Our passage mode settles in, the kids get quieter and we get used to the movements of the boat. Just the nights watch is still making some trouble. Tonight I would have spent a small fortune for a good nights sleep. I was so tired that I fell asleep sitting in the cockpit. But that did not last very long, as my timer soon startet peeping. After 3 days at sea without as much as a trace of a ship I was asking myself why the hell I should get up. Even the wonder of the absolutely amazing night sky didn’t improve my mood. However, the answer came soon and simply in form of a light at the nightly horizon. I just hope that my body get used to the intermittent sleeping cycle today or tomorrow. Soon!

Clear skies, the sun is burning. Temperatures of 31°C on board. Nevertheless I feel comfortable, as yesterday’s light breeze is still blowing. Seas are calm and Moya makes her way towards the setting sun.

We finalised our emergency plans and pin them in the cockpit and on the navigation table. Plans we think we’ll never use, but it’s good to know they exist. We considered different scenarios and came up with a list of actions for each. Primarily the aim is to closer investigate the sighting or approach of unknown vessels and inform the watchkeepers of the patrolling military in the golf of Aden about the events in our proximity, vital for any prophylactic support. But the lists has different items also.

Christian is currently updating our position and sends it to the watchkeepers as every day. Other than that our passage is uneventful so far, we even see no freighter or catch any fish.

Under blue skies we were setting sails in westerly directions. Forecasted light northerly wind pushed Moya forward. All too soon we couldn’t make out the low lying malediven islands any longer - we have been at sea, on one of our longest passages.

Already during the first night winds died. The sails were flapping despite the non existent swells. Moya’s large fuel tanks are full to the limit, nevertheless we startet our engine Henry only after we came to a full stopp. Calms are abundant at this time of the year and it’s going to be a looong way, thus we feel our fuel is sacred. At 5 a clock in the morning I was more imagining than feeling the slightest breeze and hoisted the sails. Since than we are sailing slowly, but constantly on course.

To the start of the for now last ocean crossing, I pulled out my last, well-hidden treasures, I had bought 1.5 years ago back in Germany. Straight after breakfast the boys were keenly starting to solve riddles, paint and create in the novel activity books. On top of that, they will be allowed to use our tablet trying some new learning apps, I was able to download in the Maldives given the fast internet connection. They are totally excited about it, as it is a rare event on board.

Zurück an die Küste

Mit dem vollsten Bus aller Zeiten, fuhren wir zurück nach Galle. Ein Mann hatte Einsehen, dass es keine gute Idee ist, zwei kleine Kinder im Durchgang stehen zu lassen, so dass Joshi und Joni sich einen Platz teilten, während der Busfahrer im halsbrecherischen Tempo den Berg hinabschoss. Ich war froh hinten zu stehen, um die wilden Überholmanöver nicht auch noch sehen zu müssen. Nach 5 Stunden Fahrt konnten dann auch Christian und ich uns in einen der engen Sitze hineinfalten. Der letzte Teil der Strecke fuhr der Bus an der Küste entlang. Die Strände sahen toll aus. Ab und zu sahen wir einige der sri lankanischen Fischer, die im Meer auf Stelzen saßen. Mühevoll sah diese Art des Fischens aus.

Als wir endlich in Galle angekommen waren, fanden wir Moya unter einem dicken Staubpanzer. Die Zementfabrik hatte jeden Tag etwas zu uns rüber wehen lassen. Wir waren trotzdem froh wieder auf unserem schwimmenden zu Hause zu sein.

Der lange Weg nach Hause

Mit uns liegen 6 andere Segler im Hafen von Galle, alle auf dem Weg ins rote Meer oder von dort kommend. Wir nutzten die Gelegenheit Informationen aus erster Hand zu bekommen und fragten den beiden Yachten die bereits dort waren Löcher in den Bauch. Einige Begebenheiten im Golf von Aden, über die wir bereits im Internet gelesen hatten, rückten durch diese Gespräche in ein etwas anderes Licht. Eine ungeklärter Annäherung eines Bootes wurde zum Beispiel als gefällige Bezeichnung seitens der Behörden erklärt, da dem Segelboot der Treibstoff ausgegangen war und die Hilfe irgendwie gerechtfertigt werden musste. Wir hörten außerdem, dass in der Militär überwachten Zone, viel los sein soll. Kriegsschiffe und Flugzeuge kontrollieren, gleichzeitig sind wohl viele Frachtschiffe unterwegs. Seit vielen Jahren gab es keinen erfolgreichen Übergriff von Piraten auf eine Yacht mehr, obwohl wir davon ausgehen, dass momentan jährlich 50-100 Segelboote diese Route befahren. Wir sind natürlich trotzdem nicht ganz entspannt, aber die Gespräche mit den anderen Seglern sorgten dennoch für ein wenig besseres Gefühl. Und das ist auch gut so, denn um zum Ende unserer Elternzeit wieder in Deutschland sein zu können, gibt es nur einen Weg zurück ins Mittelmeer - der über das rote Meer. Die einzige Alternativstrecke zurück - um Südafrika herum, in die Karibik und von dort zurück nach Europa - ist in diesem Zeitrahmen nicht machbar und wegen den starken Strömungen und dem rauhen Wetter am Cape Angulhas außerdem auch nicht ganz ungefährlich.

Seit wir beschlossen haben ins Mittelmeer zurück zu segeln, haben wir konstant Informationen gesammelt, um eine fundiert Risikoabschätzung über die rote Meer Passage machen zu können. Jetzt nutzen wir jede freie Minute damit, aktuellste Berichte von anderen Seglern und den Behörden zusammen zu tragen, um optimal vorbereitet zu sein. Wir registrierten uns bei der MSCHOA, die die Anti Piraten Aktivitäten im Golf von Aden koordiniert und werden täglich an die Behörden berichten, damit die Kriegsschiffe immer genau über unseren Aufenthaltsort informiert sind und im schlimmsten Fall zur Hilfe kommen können. Wenn wir nicht der Überzeugung wären, dass der Weg ins rote Meer sicher ist, würden wir diese Passage nicht machen. Trotzdem steht uns wohl unsere nervenaufreibendste Passage noch bevor.

Moya ist inzwischen aus ihrem Panzer geschält, die Wäsche ist gewaschen, der Tank, die Gasflaschen, der Kühlschrank und die Gemüsenetze sind voll. Es kann also los gehen. Aber noch nicht ins rote Meer, sondern erst Mal zu den Malediven, wo wir noch einmal eine Woche am Strand und im Wasser verbringen wollen, bevor wir uns auf den langen Weg nach Hause machen.