Back at the Durban marina, we shifted into passage mode and
prepped for our trip south. The passage
down the coast is another potentially dangerous one. The Agulhas Current flows fastest along this
stretch, reaching speeds of up to six knots.
Just like the tail end of the passage to South Africa, we would have to
deal with this current and the effects of the southwesterly winds that come
through every few days, causing large breaking seas.
Although this current can cause a dangerous sea state, it
can also be a blessing. When the winds
are favorable, it should make for some very fast sailing, and we could
potentially log some 200 mile days. The
strategy is to use it to your advantage to sail down the coast quickly, while watching
for signs of changing weather to ensure you head inshore and leave the current
before a low arrives. During the
passage, we will keep a close eye on the barometer, which should provide some
warning of a low approaching.
Having decent weather on the first leg of the trip is crucial,
as there are no places to stop along this rugged coast until East London, 250
miles south. After that, protected
harbors where we could wait out bad weather appear more frequently. It will be a relief to make it safely as far
as East London, but further would be better.
East London is a commercial port and not a great place to stop if you
don’t have to. We really wanted to make it all the way to Knysna, 550 miles
away. The locals recommended this place
as a lovely resort town and an excellent place to spend the holidays.
We paid close attention to the coastal forecasts during our
stay in Durban in order to familiarize ourselves with the weather patterns. As we prepared Saviah for passage, we noticed
what looked like one of the longest periods between two low pressure systems
that we had seen yet. It appeared that
the wind would shift to northeasterly in just a couple days and may last as
long as five days.
We walked down the street to Cruising Connections to talk to
Tony, the owner and a very knowledgeable local cruiser. He called the airport down the coast to get
updated barometric pressure to compare with the local pressure. You want to leave when the barometer has
topped out at the end of a southwesterly blow, and also make sure conditions
are stable down the coast. Tony agreed
that it appeared to be a very good window.
So we worked hard to get the boat ready and still had time to
see a concert before we left. The South
African band Ladysmith Black Mambazo was playing at the botanical gardens. They are an all-male a cappella group that
recorded with Paul Simon on a couple of albums.
We went to the show with Bruce and June on the Canadian boat Ainia. They
put on a great show and even sang a few Christmas songs. It was a nice distraction from the next
passage.
On December 17th, Saviah was ready and the
forecast remained good as we motored out of Durban Harbor. The passage
started out with no wind and minimal seas as the southwesterlies that had been
blowing for several days finally died, but the northeasterlies hadn’t filled in
yet. We weren’t going to sit and wait
for wind, so we motored for a bit the first day, and hoisted the sails when it
finally arrived. On our second day, the northeasterlies
strengthened to 20-25 knots. With the
nice boost from the Agulhas Current, we flew along at nine to ten knots for two
days. We sailed past East London during
the afternoon of the 19th, and breathed a sigh of relief as we now had
quite a few more options for safe harbors.
At this rate, we would make the
550 miles to Knysna in less than three days.
Unfortunately, entering the port of Knysna presents its own
challenges. The bay can only be entered
in just the right conditions. There are
two large sandstone cliffs, called the Knysna Heads, on either side of the
entrance. The channel between the two is
extremely narrow, passing over two sand bars, with several large rocks scattered
about and lying just below the surface. The
tide changes about every six hours and massive amounts of water ebb and flow
through the channel causing current that reaches over six knots at times. This can cause big breaking seas right at the
entrance when the wind blows against the tide.
Even when there isn’t a big swell, we wouldn’t be able to control the
boat going with the current or have enough speed to go against it when it’s
flowing fast. The British Royal Navy
once called this the most dangerous harbor entrance in the world.
The local advice is to time your entry for one hour before
high tide and only when the sea state is good. There are two high tides per day, but
generally only one during daylight hours.
With 24 hours before the next
favorable tide cycle, we had only 150 miles to go. We had been averaging about 200 miles per day
and thought this would be no problem.
That afternoon the wind died as we passed Port Elizabeth,
the next good harbor along the coast. We
turned the motor on to keep up our pace and then the fog rolled in. Before we knew it, visibility was less than
100 ft. Not good when you are in an area
of major commercial shipping and have no radar.
After about 20 minutes, we called out a sécurité on the VHF, letting other ships in the
area know our position and course. We
were pleasantly surprised when the South African coast guard responded, made
sure we were ok and announced our sécurité for us (they have much better range)
every 30 minutes until the fog cleared up a couple hours later.
After the fog cleared, the wind filled in at 10-15 knots,
but unfortunately came out of the southwest.
This meant that we were closed hauled and the swell quickly built to six
to eight feet. There was no way we would
make it by the following morning. Bashing
into the waves was killing our speed, and it was making for an uncomfortable
motion. We debated heading into Port
Elizabeth, but the barometer was steady, and all of our current weather
information indicated we should have easterly winds. Since we were on the edge of the current and
in a good position to leave it and run to Port Elizabeth if the weather
deteriorated, we opted to heave-to and wait to see if this was just a
short-term shift.
About 12 hours later, the wind died altogether and then
fresh SE winds filled in. We were
underway again making eight to nine knots, with a boost from the current. By early afternoon, we were within about 30
miles of the Knysna entrance. We were
eight hours late for the last high tide and 16 hours early for the next. So we hove-to again and waited as the wind continued
to build. It blew 20 to 30 knots all
night and the seas built to 8 to 10 ft, making for an uncomfortable evening.
The next morning, the winds lightened a bit, but we were a
little nervous that the swell would be too high to go through the heads. As we neared the harbor, Di called the NSRI
(National Sea Rescue Institute) in Knysna to ask about conditions. The man on watch said he had just come
through the entrance himself, and that it was safe. We arrived at the heads at 10 am, just before
high tide and slowly motored through the entrance, making sure to line up the
two distant markers showing the safe course.
It was a bit stressful threading our way through the hazards, and we
breathed a big sigh of relief as Saviah reached the calm waters inside the
lagoon.
As we motored to the other side, we contacted the Knysna
Yacht Club to see if we could get a berth in the marina. We talked to Roger, the commodore, who was very
welcoming and helped arrange a marina berth for us. The slips are actually owned by individuals,
and there generally aren’t any vacancies.
Lucky for us, another club member had just hauled his boat out of the
water and said we could rent his slip for our stay. We were really excited to have completed
another difficult passage and be securely moored in the marina.
Knysna lagoon and marina |
The picturesque town of Knysna is situated on the northern
shore of an 11 mile wide estuary. The
neighborhoods along the edge of the estuary and on the islands within it are
built up with high end homes. Many of
these are seasonal residences for affluent South Africans. The hub of the area is the development around
the marina, where there are dozens of restaurants and retail shops. This is also where the yacht club is
located. Since it is not a commercial
port, the harbor is very clean and a haven for recreational boaters.
Although it is probably a sleepy little town most of the
year, we arrived just a few days before Christmas, and it was bustling with
activity. It was a great place to spend
the holidays, although we would have much rather spent the time back home with
our family and friends. To make it feel
more festive on board, Di decorated Saviah with lights and a small Christmas
tree.
While there, we took advantage of a nearby running trail
along the lagoon, trying to get back into shape. We also spent time at the yacht club since
they were kind enough to give us a free temporary membership. We took advantage of the facilities and the
wi-fi connection and got to know some of the locals. They even invited us to their big New Year’s
party at the yacht club.
When the new year rolled around, we still had some time to
kill before our next passage to Cape Town, as the marinas are generally full until
the second week in January, and anchoring isn’t allowed. Since traveling in South Africa is
inexpensive, we decided to spend a few more days inland for another short
safari trip. There is another good game
park a couple hundred miles down the coast, and some of the yacht club members
gave us recommendations for other places to see on the way.
We picked up our rental car and headed east down the coastal
highway to Addo Elephant National Park. The
park was founded about 80 years ago to provide a sanctuary for the remaining
elephants in the area. Before that, they
had become a nuisance for the local farmers and were killed by the hundreds
until there were only 16 remaining in the area.
Thanks to the park, the population has rebounded, and now there are over
600 within its boundaries. We had the
best elephant viewings here, as there was a waterhole right by the road where
we watched 50 plus elephants as they played in the water and mud.
We parked the car and did the short hike out to the main
attraction, which are the suspension bridges.
There are several of these bridges that were originally built in 1969
where the Storms River meets the Indian Ocean.
The longest spans 250ft over the mouth of the river, and there are three
or four others that stretch from rock to rock over the western bank. When big swells come in and break against the
rocks, you can get soaked if you happen to be standing on these bridges.
Storms River Mouth Suspension Bridge and a couple of rock dassies |
We spent a few hours enjoying the park before heading back
to Knysna, where it was time for us to get ready for our next jump west. Leon was ready to get his boat back in the
slip that we were occupying, and the marinas in Cape Town were starting to
empty out and would likely have room for us.
We got the boat ready, checked the weather and consulted with a few of
the yacht club members for advice. After
a few days back at the boat, it looked like we had a good window with light
winds to start the next leg down the coast.
The first challenge was just getting out of the bay. Just as entering the Knysna Heads must be attempted
only in good conditions and in just the right part of the tide cycle, the same applies
on the way out. The morning we were
ready to go, we got up early and jogged over to the eastern head to get a look
at the pass. The winds were light, but
the southerly swell was sizable, creating six to eight foot breakers across the
entrance. In the marina, there was a 50
ft sailboat with a local crew of six also trying to get out. They had motored out to the entrance and
watched the swell for several hours that morning before turning back. It was a reminder of how treacherous the
channel can be if conditions are not right.
Knysna Heads with breakers |