Turned away at border
Having spent 5 days killing some time in Mtwara, we finally decided that it was time to move into Mozambique and start the final paddle towards Pemba. It was only a couple of days after
spring tide which meant that the ferry would be running (see ferry crossing below).
We set off for the border, which is not very well signposted (or at all!), and were soon on the wrong road. After 50km we thought that it was maybe a good idea to turn on one of our 3 Garmin GPS’s which confirmed that we were well on our way to Malawi! We eventually found the correct road and with a lot of help from the locals made it to the border post that is situated approximately 10km north of the Ruvuma River.
After about 2 and a half months in Tanzania it was about to be permanently behind us, or was it…?
We were able to find most of the border officials who were scattered around under the trees surrounding the customs building but alas, no customs official. Nobody even seemed to know where he was, although 2 policemen in a nearby pub seemed to think that he was manning another border post! Despite several attempts to convince the other border officials that we did not need to see the customs guy and that all our affairs were in order, we had to accept the fact that it would be another night (possibly more) in Mtwara. We even tried the failsafe soccer ball gift to get us through but that did not work this time!
Ferry crossing
The wandering customs official had returned the following day and we passed through the
border with no issues. 10km later we were on the bank of the mighty Ruvuma River and
stopped near a crowd of people to await the ferry. We had assumed that we were in the right place to catch the ferry because what else would a crowd be gathered on the banks of the river for? And we assumed that the ferry was on the Mozambiquean side and that was why it was not where we were waiting. We can assure you that what they say about assumption being the mother of all stuff ups is totally true, because by chance we saw the ferry docked about 200m further down the river! It would have been a long wait!
It was a bit of a wait in any case because we had to wait for the tide to rise in order for there to be enough water for the ferry to cross. Crossing of the Ruvuma was always one of the most worrying parts of the trip because we had heard many reports about there being no ferry or that the ferry would be out of order. The alternate route is a good couple of hundred km’s inland and is on terrible roads so is not something that one would want to take!
We had to wait until 3pm for the tide, so after getting confirmation from the locals in both English and Swahili that there were no crocodiles or hippos in the river at that point, we went for
a swim and some exploration into “no man’s land”. The fresh water was a welcome change from the salty water of the sea but the crowds that had gathered around to watch us swim made us wander about the accuracy of the reports about the crocs and hippos! We are all still around so I guess it doesn’t really matter anymore.
We were the first car onto the ferry and it took about 20 minutes to negotiate through the sandbanks and to reach the Mozambiquean side. The “road” to the border post (also about 10km from the river) was terrible and we nearly got stuck twice. On one occasion we had to wait for a
big lorry to get pushed out of the mud by about 20 permanently posted locals before we could continue.
HINT: If you are planning a trip through this border post then here is some info about it that will help you. The ferry should run all year round. During the dry season (more or less July to January) it only runs at high tide and only when tidal variation is above 4m. Basically that means that it runs 3 out of every 4 weeks. The week that it doesn’t run is the week around neap tide – tidal variance is least then. In the wet season it runs every day and the tide does not effect it due to the large amount of water in the river. The cost is US$25 but you can get it for US$20 plus a soccer ball for the captain, but he may have too many of these soon so maybe take something else instead! Decide for yourselves about the crocs and hippos!
The very best employed at border
The car had been searched a total of no times up until the Mozambique – Tanzania border (7 border crossings up to then), so I suppose that we were due for one. For this task Mozambique used their most “intelligent” official to check our car and its contents.
I was asked to open the car for this “human sniffer dog” who wanted the entire car unloaded. Once I told him that he could do this on his own he changed his mind and decided to select a handful of suspicious looking bags.
Each time he wanted a bag opened he would look at it for a couple of seconds, waiting for me to sense which one he wanted opened, and then once he realized that I hadn’t got the hint he would punch the bag – a clear indication of his intentions. I suppose that if he had been able to speak English or if I had been able to speak Portuguese we may have spoken, but we did not have this luxury!
One by one he searched through the bags and pulled out all the suspicious items – malaria tablets, asthma pumps, wine corks??, and other such dodgy items – and asked me to explain each by giving a meaningless grunt while holding the item up. He was particularly interested in the various medicines that we had and, not believing me, he tried to read the label for himself. After pondering what he had found out by reading the labels written in English, he sniffed each item to confirm his suspicions and put offending item to one side for further inspection by one of his seniors. It took him about 45minutes to just go through all the medicine our clothing bags, but the best was yet to come – the first aid bag!
As I opened the bright orange bag the poor man must have thought that he had made the drug bust of the century. He nearly fell over when he saw all the pills, syringes, needles, malaria testing kits and saline solutions for our drips to mention only a little of what is contained in that bag. He immediately started sifting through the bag, opening every bottle and container, “reading” all the labels thoroughly and putting every single item in his suspicious items pile for further inspection. The cherry on the cake came when he grabbed a Nurofen container and could not open it due to the child locked lid! Shayne and I had to restrain ourselves from packing out laughing. Our man had had enough of not knowing what the hell he was dealing with, and with that started shoving all the items back into the bags. Once done he asked where we kept our cigarettes, which appeared to be all that he was looking for! The man was left empty handed. He had even gone on a bit long to deserve a soccer ball!
Wind and current finally arrive……………..! (Rich)
As I sure you all know, sorry to harp on about it but for the last 3 and half months we have been paddling into a stiff head wind and against the current! Just in case you thought we were on a holiday and sitting back with our feet up!
Well, well to our great surprise and unbelievable relief they both turned up to join the party,
better late than never! We expected the northerly Kaskasi wind 2 months ago! The home stretch looked like it was going to be a breeze, quite literally!
So for the past couple of days our Pecreption kayaks (www.paddlers.co.za), fitted with Pacific sails kindly sponsored by Perception kayaks, have been the fastest thing on these waters! Dhow captains have been extremely busy writing out their Christmas wish lists with our little red boats fitted with sails taking up their top spots!
Graham and I were able to literally sit back and give ourselves a little 10km rest as we sailed into Mocimbia da Praia, with an average speed of 7km/hour!
You cant get any fresher than that!
Shayne and I arrived in Mocimboa da Praia a day before the Richard and Graham were due to meet us, and saw it as a perfect opportunity to have a nice lunch together at a “nice” local restaurant. We were seated under a huge blossoming mango tree which spontaneously dropped its fruit and guests simply picked up and ate as entrée, we soon caught on and scrambled on the ground picking up the juicy mangoes. Soon the waiter came and after having our hearts set on having prawns we were disappointed when the waiters charades and farm noises told us he only had chicken available. Chicken and chips it was. The waiter hobbled off and some 30mins later I saw him sit at the table next to us with a bucket of potatoes and start to peel and cut them into what was to be our chips. My patients was beginning to run thin as he was taking his time making each chip perfect. He did this for maybe a hour when he then got up took our chips round back, finally our meal will be on its way. But he appeared again, this time walking over the chicken coop where he simply reached in and pulled out a chicken, and before a knew what was going on… off came its head…then it was dumped into a boiling bucket of water where he proceeded to pluck its feathers off. Shayne must have seen by my face that something over his shoulder was not impressing me and turned just in time to see our soon to be meal being pulled out of the water and shoved into a brie grid and tossed onto the open flames.
2.5 hours later our meals arrived… the poor chicken and the fresh potato chips sitting on top of our plates. I have to admit my heart went out to the little chicken, but I have to say it was the nicest chicken and chips we’ve ever had. Goes to prove the old saying, freshest is best.
Jigs and Chris join the team. (Chris)
We stepped off the plane in Dar es Salam to be hit by 35 plus temperatures and after fighting our way through the hundreds of taxi drivers eventually made it to our hotel where we dropped off our stuff and spent the rest of the day exploring Dar. After a painfully hot night in a room with a fan that only worked during the short intervals of power that the whole city lives off we, arose casually thinking we had ample time until our taxi driver from the previous day would come and pick us up… only to realise soon afterwards that our alarm clock was still on South African time and we were about to miss our flight! A mad rush to the airport involving a few near death experiences with a taxi driver that didn’t seem understand any English but certainly new what “we are in a rush!” meant, resulted in us just getting on to the plane just in time and two very relieved individuals!
After a short flight and our arrival at a dilapidated shack they call Mtwara airport, we were hit by taxi driver warfare once again and so they lengthy process of trying to extract the correct fare began… eventually we settled on a price almost a third of what they had originally quoted and we were at the Mozambique border in no time!! Crossing the river to the Mozambiquean side either meant waiting 8 hours for the ferry to depart on its daily trip or hopping on a local’s three meter long dug out boat and have him pole us across the two km wide river which would only take “an hour”… we opted for the later and two and a half hours later or one Tanzanian hour if you like, we were on Mozam soil. We sat on the river bank unsure of what to do next during which the locals all gathered around us and stared at us and followed our every move! Then the heat began to take its toll and the thirst set in until eventually I had to beg a local to let me buy one of his prized bottles of water from his small personal stash, it took some negotiation but eventually he gave in. A few hours later the site and sound of Mlevi (the k2k land rover) and Rich was a most welcoming one and so began the trip back to their camp which would prove to be another adventure altogether!!!
Mlevi gets seriously bogged! (Rich)A logistical nightmare! You will never be able to meet all your paddlers on time and in the right place etc.! These were some of the comments thrown at us by experienced expeditioners when
asked for their advice and opinions!
With only one more pair to meet, and not having had any mishaps, we were looking good and couldn’t wait to prove them all wrong!
Being ahead of schedule most of the way meant that our final couple’s original rendezvous had shifted from Lindi, Tanzania to Mocimboa da Praia (MdP), Mozambique. This meant that arguably Africa’s most remote boarder crossings south of the Equator lay between them and us! Having just crossed the boarder and feeling relieved to climb back into my kayak after only having travelled a couple of km along those roads, I was a little concerned if we were ever going to see them!
A couple of local trucks and only one bus per day if you were lucky, travelled this remote stretch, from the Ruvuma River to MdP (+/-100km)!
As luck would have it 3 hyper, surf crazy Aussies were looking for a ride from MdP to the boarder! All was looking good until we reached a first major obstacle! A muddy open river crossing! It took us a good hour with 3 Aussies, 4 Mozambiquans and 2 Tanzanians all pushing and re-aligning logs etc. to finally cross!
I tried to ignore the fact that I still had to cross it again on my return journey!
We finally arrived at the river to find Julia (our first lady paddler) and Chris waiting patiently for my arrival! The hot African sun was clearly taking its toll, the ice cold coke’s brought smiles t
o their cracking lips as they salivated at the sight!
We finally made it to the dreaded crossing and after asking a couple of locals which was the best line, and remembering the wise words during our 4x4 course not to try and create new tracks but to keep to used tracks I decided to take the same route as I had taken earlier.
We build a solid bridge with as much of the scattered wood as we could find and hit it with some serious juice! Aqua plaining over the mud and scattered water my worries began to drift away! The unfortunately the opposite bank wanted some attention and wasn’t going to be over come that easily! The front right wheel caught the bank at a terrible angle and the rear right began to spin causing Mlevi to sink deeper and deeper! The more we dug the more the water rushed in to fill the newly created space!
A gathering of passing locals began to congregate who stood back to spectate. Watching Mzungu’s getting down and dirty wasn’t something they saw every day! As soon as I told them that they would be handsomely rewarded for their help, they grabbed the spade, ripped off their shirts and got stuck right in! Woman and men all working together listening to our instructions! Each attempt was fruitless and we only sank deeper and deeper!
We eventually started to look for other options, a mangrove stump was inspected for us to try winch ourselves
out! The only stump in sight! The bonnet was up, the tree hugger (short super size tow rope used to protect the tree from the cable) was set in place and the cable was unravelled! It just reached! Not having had to use the winch before and having heard how dangerous they can be, I marshalled everyone a safe distance away!
We all stood back holding thumbs that this would all soon be over and that we could continue on our journey and the locals couldn’t wait for their little bonseller!
The winch wouldn’t retract! It was all we needed our final straw wasn’t going to help! We had tested it just days ago and now was when we needed it! Just our luck!
The locals began to get dressed and gather up their belongings, the sun had long gone and the reality of having to pitch our tent, which Julia and Chris and brought along to replace our stolen one, might be put to use before we expected it! All I could thing of was how were we going to get out of here! The mud would surely harden over night and just solidify round the tryes!
Our prayers were answered a moment later when another 4x4, the only vehicle I had seen the whole day came flying towards us! This was our chance, he was going to have to drive over me if he wanted to pass before towing us out!
In the torch light we fitted the tow rope and with all the locals pushing we finally popped out!
Julia’s and Chris’s K2K experience was well under way!
Base training for the Duzi! (Julia)For months, Chris and I had been eagerly awaiting the adventure of a life time, the highlight of which was to be the paddling! Tropical waters, beautiful reefs and an archipelago of islands! WOW! We definitely weren’t disappointed as we slept our first night on a deserted beach which was on an island clearly not visited very often by mzungu s (Swahilli for white man) due to the fascination of the locals with us. Which we soon learnt we were going to have to get used to.
As for the paddeling, I can’t belive that we actually thought that being in Koboco (the double kayak that looked like a hippo ) would give us the advantage we needed to stretch Graham and Rich a little…. Boy were we wrong! There was a definite constant pattern of us tailing behind and it didn’t take long to realise how ‘harrrd’ these boys really were. A typical scenario would be; our three boats floating in the middle of the ocean, on land in sight, with Chris and I waiting in anticipation as Graham read his GPS to get the direction of the next set of co ordinates. He would look up point far into the distance and the ‘land’ on the horizon that only Rich and Graham could see, this would be where we would stop……FOR LUNCH! Meaning it would only be a half way mark and required many tasty treats (fizzers) to get me there.
I must admit that our 35-50km s a day on the water was aided by the wind and the currents much to our gratitude! J There was even a 15km stretch when Chris decided the wind was of more benefit then my input. I took one for the team and happily became sail master while Chris continued to paddle.
The days on the water were long and hot, but nothing a few energy bars, fizzers and a legendary Portuguese rolls couldn’t get you through. Especially as Rich and Graham had become such guru’s at this, finding the ultimate camp site was always guaranteed and a great motivation on the water.
Reef a spanner in the works
We left Mocimboa da Praia quite late in the morning for a 3-day paddle to Pangane. It was Chris and Julia’s first day so we thought that we would take it easy. After 20km the tide had decided to hand us a nasty surprise in the form of an exposed reef 1.5km wide and which stretched all the way to an island. We could either carry the 3 very loaded boats the 1.5km over the reef or paddle about 7km around. We chose to carry but changed our minds after 500m of carrying the double. Paddling around was also not an option so we decided to spend the night on the island instead!
Fake sandbank provides false joyThe reef of the previous day was actually a blessing in disguise because the island was possibly the last mangrove free land for about the next 45km and we would have had to spend the night at sea!
At about 3pm we were getting a bit worried because we had not seen a beach the whole day. And then, appearing out of the mangroves on the horizon, was a beautiful, abandoned white beach. We could not believe our luck but as we got closer we saw a dhow sail behind it and out the other side! By that stage of the trip we knew that that is not one of the characteristics of normal land and that it was sandbank! Once we landed on it though, we saw that the dhow had headed into a village and that there was a piece of land that we could camp on in relative privacy - we only had small crowds gathered around for a change!
Sold! The land that we almost bought…
From about 10km out we could see a big red block on the beach. Shayne and Kristal had done well by putting the red waterproof cover of the tents on the beach so that we could see where to go. This bit of initiative was because we had not been able to contact each other on our satellite phones (had not put a + infront of the phone number!) and therefore did not have the GPS coordinates.
We had landed at Pangane, a beautiful peninsula with wide white beaches and even a campsite! We decided to spend another day here to rest and to explore the area. We had been looking for a piece of land the whole trip and had finally found it. The designer in all of us came out and we started plotting what we were going to build where and discussed the logistics of getting there etc etc…
We assigned Shayne and Kristal the task of speaking to the authorities in Pemba about obtaining a lease over the land. The news came 2 days later via satellite phone – the land had already been bought!
Prawn to be wild!!!!!!Something we had all been looking forward to for a long time was the Mozambiquean prawns….! Since crossing the boarder….2 weeks ago, we’ve all been determined to get some for the ‘barbi’. Reputation and experience would show that prawns are not the hardest thing to come by in Mozambique but since arriving in Pemba, the mozam prawn seems to have eluded us. Since the
opening of the prawn farm in pemba town a few years back, the local fishermen do not seem to be interested in bringing home any prawns at all so we thought that we would just go and buy from the farm. Arriving at the farm we were greated by some rather high walls topped with barb wire and more security guards than your average prison. However they refused to sell us prawns as they only had a licence to export their produce but they did tell us that we shouldn’t have a problem finding some of their prawns on the street as so many are stolen from the farm… hence the state of security surrounding the place.
Further information led us to the only known legal distribution outlet of the infamous king sized prawn! A dodgy dilapidated building with “Prawn To Be Wild” splurged colourly above the heavily bolted door! This too wasn’t going to produce the goods!
Further investigations and enquires have provided the following interesting info, if we are having serious with drawl symptoms! There are plenty eager locals willing to risk their freedom for an extra months salary! Just give them the go ahead, your desired quantity and you will have your prawns the following morning!
Reality: A 30 day jail sentence or a 13th cheque is waiting for them! We are however having ethical issues as to whether we should be supporting such activities, with the whole Mozam coast before us I’m sure we can hold out a little longer!
Longest day a real mixed bag
We left Pangane for the final 3 days to Pemba. They were going to be a long 3 days as we had 120km to go, but we had fixed the sail on the double so were confident that we would make it quite comfortably. We were also in luck in that the wind was blowing quite strongly from behind us. We were headed for Ibo Island but had to go via Matemo island to get there.
As we approached the island we were sure that we could see some chalets on the beach. A resort? We had been fooled many times before by resort-looking villages so did not get our hopes up too high, but this time it was no illusion.
We landed on the beach and got some really strange looks and the security guards quickly approached us and asked what we wanted. We asked to talk to the manager and within minutes we were drinking cokes at the bar with a South African couple and were washing, I mean, swimming in the pool. We had to turn down a second drink (don’t know how) because we still had a long way to go. We headed off and had lunch at sea while we sailed at a good speed towards Ibo.
The wind was so strong that we even stopped paddling for a while while we sailed along. I think that it was especially sweet for Richard and I as we had spent the last 3 months paddling into the wind and at last it was on our side.
We decided to paddle past Ibo so that the next 2 days would be a bit shorter so we aimed for
Quirimba Island instead. We had to head out of the archipelago for the 1st time in Mozambique and the sea was quite rough. Richard and I landed twice to see how far we would have to drag our boats to get to the beach but decided to keep on going in the hope that the tide would rise. In the distance we could see 2 rather large and well-built buildings. Could it be another resort? Surely not 2 in 1 day! We were right again, not another resort, but it was a farmhouse, on an island with a German farmer. Strange I agree, but the farmer let us camp in his garden and his wife organized us each a bucket shower. Before we could shower we had to drag the boats up the beach because the tide was not playing ball! Once clean we were invited for a beer in the house and some history about the coconut
farm which had been in the family for years.
After the beer we tried to fire up our gas cooker but it had seen a little too much salt water for its own good and did not work properly (or at all)! We have eaten a lot of rice on this trip and in all sorts of different ways, but uncooked was definitely not a way that we were keen to try. We had to make a plan. A plan was indeed made as was a fire behind the cottage! Our rice was cooked in no time! After a cup of coffe, we carefully covered the fire with sand and sticks. Nobody will ever know that it was there, except all of youof course!
Paddle into Pemba
We had spent the previous night camped at the base of a lighthouse. The lighthouse was still in working order and provided us with a great view of the coast and sea around us. Richard and I woke up early so that we could see the sunrise from the top of the lighthouse. It was our last sunrise that we would experience on the paddling part of the trip so thought that we would get out of our comfortable beds a bit earlier on this occasion!
We had found that the wind tended to blow a bit stronger in the mornings so thought that
leaving early would be a good idea. Well, it would have been if there was any wind. The sea was totally flat and not a breath of wind was to be found! We had to paddle!
It must have been the longest 25km paddle of the whole trip. We had to cross 20km of bay to reach our coordinates in Pemba, which meant that we could see Pemba for 20km before we actually got there. Believe me, at 5km/h, the end of the bay never feels like it is getting any nearer.
We had packed more than enough food for the last day and ended up having about 4 “lunch”
breaks. During one of these breaks we were greeted by a pod of about 100 playful dolphins. They were jumping and swimming all around and underneath us for about 10 minutes. These were by far the most friendly dolphins that we had seen the whole trip.
We couldn’t have asked for better conditions to finish the paddling leg of our expedition (although a tailwind would have been good!). Richard and I could not help thinking back to 15 August 2005 – the 1st day of our paddle in Northern Kenya – where the conditions were almost exactly opposite. We could not believe that Pemba was only a couple of kms ahead of us. We had ruled
the thought of paddling into Pemba out of our minds for so long and here we were. The trip had flown by!
In Pemba, we were not greeted by any crowds or journalists, but only by the other half of our team, Shayne and Kristal. With the six of us all on the beach in Pemba, we had done what we had set out to do and had completed the main part of a trip that had been first thought of almost 3 years before!
Party at the police station! (Chris)On one of our daily quests for the mysterious Mozamiquean prawns we came across a local soccer match in down town Pemba, seeing this as an exellent chance for some great footage to tie in with the soccer ball theme of the expedition we all jumped out of Mlevi, cameras in hand, and made our way into the crowds of people. The soccer players enjoyed putting on a show for the camera, thinking it was moving them that one step closer to the premier league. On our return to the car we realised that someone had helped themselves to some of the camera equipment we had left behind. Another unfortunate experience but a good wake up call for us to be more careful in poverty stricken Africa.
Next was the job of reporting the theft at the police station. Past experience has shown that even in the most advanced parts of South Africa, trying to report a theft can be difficult but even so, I don’t think any of us anticipated the ordeal that awaited us! Just getting a case number from them proved to be a three day affair in a police station which was not the most efficient to say the least! None of the police could utter so much as a word in English so trying to make a statement would have been impossible had it not been for an English speaking civilian passing by at the exact moment as they were looking for a translator… we were in serious luck! This friendly guy sat with us for ages relaying our story to the police while they jotted down some notes on a piece of paper they pulled out of the dust bin. They told us to come back the next day to see if they had found anything and pick up the case number which we did but this time we were not so lucky as far as having a translator at hand goes and there were different police behind the desk from the day before. So the games started… firstly, a lengthy game of charades in which we tried to explain why we were standing in their station, eventually they put two and two together and told us to come back the next day as the statement and case number was not yet ready, this was due to their next favourite game… it was called pass the typewriter.
The entire police stationed functioned with one typewriter between all the various offices and departments and at any given time you would see a policeman come in to the room and take the typewriter from the desk in front of you, he then had to keep a steady eye on it as a slip up or half hourly break meant that someone else would pop in to his office and take the typewriter away, thus being the main reason for the complete lack of administrative work that gets done around the place and the reason there are ten policemen milling around doing nothing at any given time.
On day three in the police station, after a much quicker game of charades, we learnt that they had actually typed up the statement and the captain had it, we were sent through to his office where he continually spoke in Portuguese as if we were somehow going to ‘all of a sudden’ understand him. He then demanded 500 000 meticas (about R150) for absolutely no reason at all other than the fact that we might want to give it to him, not falling for that trick we soon had a copy of the statement made (at the post office up the road) while they held on to jigs as their ransom for the original copy back. We gave them back their original copy in exchange for Julia and now finally have our statement and case number… which is all in Portuguese.
The broken rudder, I might add, would never have occurred had we not decided to land on the rocks in rather big waves. I am almost 100% sure that had our boats been fiberglass, we would have needed a replacement for the double on day 4 when Shayne and I decided to ram the boat into the beach while being dumped by a nasty wave. We could actually feel the boat bending beneath us. There were several other occasions when we tried our hardest to break them but couldn’t, one of these times being the rock landing as pointed out above. The boats were put through their paces and not only on the water. They survived being strapped to the top of the Land Rover for about 7 000km on the trip up, which included them being used as a viewing platform in the Serengetti. They were strapped onto a dhow, the roof of a dhala-dhala and a ferry, were trampled on on the ferry over to Zanzibar and then were strapped back on the Land Rover for another 4 000km’s to get them back to Cape Town. Thank you Paddlers and Perception, we could not have had any better boats.
This is a wingtip paddle as opposed to a flat blade which most sea kayaks use. We chose it based on its strength and the fact that it was a wingtip. We were hoping to make up for lost speed due to our slightly slower boats. All 3 needed repairing during the trip; two paddles cut mid way along their leading edges, which we managed to repair with fibre glass. A little further down the coast 2 broke in the exact same position, a quarter way up the blade, rendering them useless. We expected them to last longer than they did and there seems to be a design fault with this blade, they broke from wear and tear and not due rocks or other hard surfaces. We also used an old battered Epic paddle which lasted the entire expedition without any trouble.
Well, I can’t praise this little machine enough. We would possibly not have made it back if it wasn’t for the Garmin eTrex Legend C GPS which was equipped with the Blue Chart oceanographic maps (sponsored by Garmin http://www.garmin.co.za/). This GPS was in the water and sun everyday and still works flawlessly. We used the maps to navigate around reefs and sandbanks and to find possible camping sites for the night. GPS co-ordinates were smsed through by the ground team whenever possible and this ensured that we always found each other. Testament to this is the fact that we only failed to meet the ground team once on the whole trip, and that was only because there was not a road to where we had landed. They knew exactly where we were but just could not physically get to us. We were once caught up in a storm near Kilwa Masoka, and could not see the land. It is amazing how quickly you can get disorientated and without the GPS we would have headed a long way out to sea.
These were very comfortable and it they did not impair us in any way. The only complaint that we all had was that they did not have a pouch to keep various items, like GPS, suncream etc, in. They would be ideal for shorter sports like canoe polo which does not require the pouch.
These bags were super tough and kept all our equipment, food and clothing 100% dry, even when dragged through the sea for several hundred meters. Our cameras were not in one of these when they got drowned! Their handles made them easy and convenient to carry (and for criminals to steal!). They were of the 15 and 30 litre variety and packed very nicely into the holds of our kayaks.
Most of our clothing was sponsored by Duesouth (we each also had 2 shirts sponsored by Spec-Savers). This consisted of 2 t-shirts (1 long-sleeved and the other short-sleeved), a set of zip-off quick-drying pants, peak cap and a rain jacket. This clothing was used every day for 5 and a half months and by the end of it we didn’t have as much as a hole in any of it.
We used this very seldom due to the abundance of drift wood on the beaches so we made a fire on most evenings. When we did need it it was great because it is capable of burning almost any liquid fuel that you can find. It takes a bit of work to get it primed and burning properly but then it works like a dream. We unfortunately let ours get a bit wet with sea water and when we needed to use it again it had corroded and the jets had got clogged up. Our fault!
On many a day, after paddling for 5 or 6 hours, we would start talking about what we thought our most valuable equipment was. Our Reef rash vests always topped the list. We were in the sun for 5 to 8 hours a day and without our rash vests we would have been in hospital with serious sun stroke after the first week. Richard and I had the same rash vest for the entire trip and it did not wear out. If I ever have to spend a lot of time in the sun again, my first buy would be a Reef rash vest.
The rash vests could obviously not cover our entire bodies and for that reason we were sponsored by Island Tribe. This has got to be the most water resistant sun cream in the world. When it says “Wash off with soap” on the bottle (and trust me it means it) the stuff is properly water resistant. Putting Island Tribe on was as routine as eating oats in the morning, but probably twice as important.
Ike, as it became known, was the answer for transporting the video camera when on the boats. Its only problem was that it was heavy (9.5kg) and very bulky. We took it diving when we were in Pemba, Zanzibar and Mafia Island and had no leaks or other disasters. It is designed to have neutral buoyancy when under water and is actually very maneuverable and easy to use. You can control evry function on the camera while it is in the housing through a number of well designed knobs and levers. It was also the perfect housing for the camera when in the car to keep the dust out, although the sound quality is dramatically reduced when inside the housing.
Because of the sea urchins, we needed to wear shoes whenever we went into the water. We used 2 types of quick-drying “amphibious” shoes. Richard had a pair made by Salomon and I had a pair of Hi-Techs. I am only going to comment on those as they were the only ones that were used for any decent length of time. The Hi-Techs were uncomfortable from the beginning and gave me blisters every time that I wore them, even after 5 months. As a result I would only wear them if I really had to. Richard’s, on the other hand, were great and incredibly comfortable. He still has his and I gave mine away. I would buy the Salomons next time.
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