Update from Lamu

Great game viewing in crater

Our campsite (Simba Camp) was nestled on the crater edge with great views into the crater itself. The only downside of the campsite was that it was packed with tourists and did not really feel that we were on the edge of on of the most famous game conservation areas in the world. After paying a bribe of a soccer ball at the gate, we were allowed to enter the crater without a guide. There was no room for him in any case and I am sure that the prospect of sitting in a kayak on the roof, in a reserve which has the highest concentration of predators in the world, would not have appealed to anybody. It was a misty morning and the drive into the crater was testing with us only being able to see about 5m ahead and with cliffs of 100m+ awaiting any false move. Once we descended below the clouds we could see the plains of the crater stretching out below. It was to be a great day! The Crater lived up to its reputation and delivered cheetah, lion and leopard within 1 km of each other! Elephants and buffalo were everywhere and it got to the stage where we drove past them as if they were just impala.We had been sitting watching some lions with cubs on a zebra kill when all the safari vehicles started speeding off. They are in radio contact with and let each other know when there is something special to be seen. We were not going to let the lack of radios and the fact that we had paid a lot less than those in the safari vehicles disadvantage us, and duly follwed. From a distance we could see aboiut 15 safari vehicles all parked in a row. Our imaginations went wild. “Wild dog? Cheetah or lion kill?” were some of our ignition thoughts. It must be something very special to make so many people rush away from a pride of lions with a kill. As we approached there was a lone rhino sleeping on the left but that could not have been what all the fuss was about so we started scanning the right….nothing. We then noticed that all the tourists has their binoculars trained on the left. Could they have all rushed here to see the sleeping rhino that was going nowhere? When a German tourist was asked what they were looking at, he excitedly informed us that if we looked carefully we would be able to see a rhino sleeping in the grass! Not quite the wild dog we had hoped for but our big 5 sighting was complete and only in a couple of hours!

24 hours, and not a minute more is what you are allowed in the Ngorogoro Conservation Area. We timed our entry very badly and had entered from the Serengeti at 13:10 which meant that we had to leave at 13:09 or pay for another day – not an option on our tight budget! Our Land Rover exited the steep crater with the utmost of ease but not before drinking half our tank of petrol. We were well on track to make the gate, until we were stopped by a ranger near the top of the crater. We thought that our earlier bribe had suddenly caught up to us. To our surprise it was the opposite. The ranger had followed us out of the crater and had seen our “CA” number plate and just wanted to chat as he was a South African. He wasn’t at all bothered by the lack of the guide and obviously scared our view on the matter. The conversation, although really welcome and interesting, had cost us valuable time. The big V8 roared up the remainder of the crater, using another quarter of a tank of petrol, and charged through the rain forest and then wound down again towards the gate. With brakes smoking, 13:06 was our official exit time!

Waves too big, dhow too small! The tale of how the expedition nearly ended!
9-10 August 2005 (Pictures still to follow - sorry. Technology is getting thin up here!)

After our initial suspected robbery we arrived back our dhow at 2pm, otherwise known as 8 in Swahili time. It was still low tide and we quickly loaded our kayaks on board. Surprisingly they fitted and we were anxious to get on with it. However, despite us having the watches, the locals definitely had the time and made us wait an hour or so until they decided to join us on the boat. Our captain was “Omah” along with his crewmates “Safe” (ironic) and “Hassiem Omah”. The tide was now up and the first signs of trouble began to emerge. Firstly the sturdyness (or lack thereof) of the boat had now become apparent. Our crew were now saying their last goodbyes and were on the waters edge. We turned around to see that our captain had removed his pants and was wading towards the boat, his sailing experience was obvious as he was using a certain part of his body as a rudder to guide himself towards the boat at which stage Graham announced loudly “Oh great, we have got Captain Ding-a-ling!”. Thankfully his English consisted of only “Eh-yes” which was the answer to every question and he did not understand. “Are we going to die on this boat, Omah?” was one of the questions asked in jest, to which he calmly replied “Eh-yes”. Not the ideal news for the beginning of the trip! Thankfully he put his pants back on and we started to sail. Our dhow as only a meter or so longer than our kayaks and about 2 meters wide. We left the safety of the bay and were off into the deep blue sea. The swell was a lot bigger now than we had first thought (about 3 meters). This took its toll and Rich who, being the kind person he is, decided to feed the fish on numerous occasions. We had only been traveling for 2 hours before it had become dark and the swell was still big. We found a bay where we had planned to sleep on a beach. There was no beach when we arrived and were greeted only by mangroves which surrounded 2 massive missile launching silos. The captain dropped the anchor and announced “Sleep here”. Richards eyes nearly popped out of his head as his stomach churned in disagreement. We tried to get comfortable for what we knew was to be a long night. Graham had prime position at the front of the boat with an anchor as his pillow an a rope for bedding. The rest of us weren’t so lucky. While Aaron and myself nestled into the cockpit of the kayaks using the dry bags as pillows, Rich opted to be close to the edge of the dhow with his head rested on the rudder with the rest of his body slumped into the damp hull. The 3 crew were clearly hungry and hammered an old paint tin into shape with an axe in order to make a suitable fireplace. The banging continued deep into the night along with the shouting. We were trying to sleep but the constant dagga smell made our already weary stomachs feel even worse. After what felt like eternity the captain announced “We go Lamu”. It was 4am and were extatic at the thought of getting to Lamu and the safety of land. The sea was relatively calm. There were even moments where some of us (not Rich) enjoyed the trip. Our average speed was 8km per hour so it was low going. As we got closer to Lamu the sea got rougher. There were now numerous large waves crashing all around us. Our confidence in our captain was extremely low as we got tossed from side to side by waves. Graham was in the closest position to a crow’s nest that we had and was perched atop the big double kayak. He had taken on the role of letting the rest of us know when to expect a big wave by sounding the alarm to hang on with a calm “Oh dear!” On one occasion we heard an “Oh dear” and the boat rocked violently, this was shortly followed by “Oh #&%^!”, an expression not heard from him before and the boat nearly turned over as we just avoided the breaking wave. This was followed by a really calm “Ok guys, this is definitely it!” and by the groans of fear from the crew at the back of the boat. A second later we all saw the huge wall of water curling over the deck which then thrashed into the boat nearly tipping it over. Everything was soaked but both the 2 ton boat and ourselves had survived. The urinal of the boat (half a milk bottle) was now being used to bail water out of the boat which had become knee deep. Oh dear! Luckily the rough seas were momentarily over 30minutes later and returned to normal swaying. After a little while I heard an odd noise coming from the back of the dhow. I turned around to experience the captain squatting on the edge of the deck like a greyhound, one hand still on the rudder and the other balancing oddly as he relieved himself of excess waste. The channel into Lamu was the most hair-raising of them all. With our destination only 500m away we were forced to “dhow surf” in through the breaking waves. Although all their other downfalls, our crew knew how to sail a dhow and negotiated the channel like experts delivering us safely to our destination in Lamu, Kipungani Explorer!

Still to come: "Midnight maddness in Mombasa", "Day of giving" and "Our Stay at Turtle Bay"