Just about 12 miles south of Cape Town and a much easier place to find a berth for my boat compared to the two crowded marinas in Cape Town, the marina at Hout Bay Yacht Club is a great alternative. Arriving here still represents a complete transit of the coast of South Africa from Richards Bay and puts me decidedly on the Atlantic Ocean side of Cape Agulhas, the southernmost point in Africa.

The entire coastal transit took three 2-days passages spread over 15 days with stops in East London(5 nights) and Knysna(4 nights). True to its reputation, the weather along the coast is volatile and violent. On each of the three passages I had to contend with gale force winds, fortunately at my stern, and large, very choppy and confused seas that made getting any sleep difficult. That’s partly due to sailing in the shallow coastal waters where the typical depths are only 50 – 150 meters. In the open ocean with water depths of thousands of meters, the swells and flow of the wind waves take on a much more regular and rhythmic characteristic.

Leaving Knysna through the narrow “heads” at high slack tide was a few minutes of challenging boat handling. The wind was blowing into the narrow passage creating 3 – 4 meter swells I had to drive through, some of them breaking. The boat would ride up on the face of a swell, the bow then crashing down on the backside, sometimes getting a bit buried in the face of the next swell. It took full concentration, increased engine power, and a solid grip on the wheel to keep the boat perpendicular to the swells as I powered through to cleared them. Getting caught sideways in a broach would have been a disaster in that narrow, rocky place. I was surprised the water was so busy. When I arrived a few days before, I had flat water passing through the heads into the Knysna estuary.

I’m damn glad to be in Hout Bay and in a pretty nice marina. In a week or so I’ll move Phywave 70 nm north to Saldanha Bay and skip going in to Cape Town. Just recently Saldanha was added as a port where you can clear out of South Africa. I’ll be one of the first boats taking advantage of that change. From there I’ll be looking at my homestretch passage across the Atlantic (for the third time) to North America via St. Helena and the Caribbean.

Ignore the K, pronounced nyz-na. Another quick trip along the South African coast where a suitable weather window for a passage consists of gale force winds blowing in the right direction. Rough but quick.  However, it was not quite quick enough to get me to Knysna before dark on Wednesday after leaving East London early Tuesday morning.  Knysna has a well-known tricky entrance through the heads to the estuary which shouldn’t be attempted at night or with the wrong tide, especially for someone like me who’s never done it

So I had to lay up at an anchorage in Plettenberg Bay, along the Robberg peninsula, about 20 nm east of Knysna.  I was initially indecisive about anchoring there, thinking I could lie ahull or heave-to and wait for daylight to enter Knysna. I sailed slow for some hours with that strategy in mind. But I finally decided the anchorage would be better, especially if the wind kicked up overnight (which it did). With that decision made, I motored through calm winds to the anchorage, arriving at 11 pm. It’s been a long time since I anchored in the dark of night in a strange place.  The e-charts on my chartplotter provided horizontal guidance and with the depth finder I was looking for a depth less than 8 meters.  Once found, I slowed the boat to zero knots, dropped the anchor, and put out about 40 meters of chain (5:1 slope).  With that done, I went to bed and actually got 5 hours solid sleep.

Leaving for Kynsna early the next day I knew I would be bashing into 15-20 kt headwinds and waves all the way. Nothing for it but to motor fast enough to hit the best time around 1200 to pass through the narrow entrance.  Mike Jacobs of the Knysna Yacht Club (KYC) is there via Whatsapp and radio to help newcomers get safely through.  It was straightforward, except for crabbing into the 20 kt westerly crosswind. It’s a little unnerving to steer the boat so the course-over-ground (COG) track is through the passage but the bow is pointed at the rocks.

KYC is a very welcoming place. They let me stay tied to the reception dock instead of putting me out on a swing mooring where I would need to unload the dinghy, attach the outboard motor, and use that to get to shore. KYC has a great restaurant and bar a few meters from where I’m tied up. From what I can tell, Kynsna is a sort of a resort, second home, tourist town.  50 meters from the yacht club there is a small shopping complex with many restaurants and few nearby hotels.  There are charter boats that take people out on the water for sailing excursions. It’s by far the most comfortable stop I’ve made since Darwin.

However, always onward. A good weather window is opening Sunday/Monday that will get me to Hout Bay, just 10 miles south of Cape Town. I plan to jump on that window to complete my passage along the coast of South Africa.

The visit to my home planet was a too-brief two weeks, barely enough time to get over jet lag before getting re-jet lagged on 32 hour en-route flight times from Richard Bays to Seattle and back.

The main reason for my return home was to participate as a pilot in the First World Flight Centennial, September 26-29. As the date got closer and I was still sitting around my boat, I volunteered for a few things that added to an already busy 2 weeks. The first was a dinner presentation at the Rainier Club in downtown Seattle, a venerable club in a classic brick building that’s existed for more than 100 years. The club hosted the first world flight pilots at dinner upon their return in 1924.  I usually talk to pilot groups about my flying where a lot of technical details are appropriate.  This was a much more diverse group of about 100 people at the Rainier Club so while I was still on the boat I started building a “highlight reel” of the most interested moments from my 4 major international flights, included some of the cool videos I’ve posted on YouTube (and linked on my website). It was a engaging group and dinner was great; I was delighted I accepted their speaking invitation.

I also hosted a BBQ dinner party for Earthrounder pilots and their guests at my house on Bainbridge Island, not just those pilots participating in the Centennial but also any Earthrounders who happened to be in town for the event. It was a lively group of 20 or so – the broiled steelhead, grilled steaks, and salads were perfect.

While home I discovered something that surprised me – I started to like flying again. After achieving the goals I had for international flying by 2019, I have to say I was a little burned out on flying.  Flying to local airports for lunch, just to fly somewhere, really had little appeal or imagination. By climbing into the plane for the Centennial, flying felt fresh again; maybe a 2+ year hiatus from flying is what I needed for a renewed perspective.  There is a simplicity and elegance to airplanes and flying, especially compared to sailing around in a cruising sailboat like mine.  My boat is filled with a myriad of systems to support living on it, the deck cluttered with standing and running rigging, the navigational systems more complex in some ways than those on my plane, the dinghy and outboard motor a whole separate “little boat”.  It’s a lot of stuff that needs maintenance, sometimes doesn’t work, and sometimes breaks. Not simple, not elegant.  I look forward to getting back in my plane when my voyage is completed.

Returning to my boat in Richards Bay, I was anxious to get moving again.  In a comfortable marina like the Zululand Yacht Club it’s easy to get stagnant and let the days drift by. I was determined to break that so while I was still at home I started looking for a suitable weather window to continue.  I arrived back in Richards Bay on October 4th and started sailing again on October 8th headed to East London, 350 nm southwest along South Africa’s “Wild Coast”, a name I now understand. For the first few hours the wind was sublime but rapidly built to 30-40 kts (gale force) with commensurate wave action.  To further complicate things there is the famous Agulhas Current that runs southwest along the coast at speeds that can reach nearly 5 kts, quite high for an ocean (not tidal) current.  As I’ve mentioned in an earlier blog post, it is a seriously bad idea to sail in such a current when the wind is blowing in the opposite direction. Standing waves are created by the conflicting forces. Rogue waves along this coast can reach 30 meters in height. Many ships have been sunk or seriously damaged over the years. So even if the wind is stronger than I would like, if it’s blowing in the right direction I’ll take it, and I did.  The weather window was 60 hours long before the wind would change direction and blow opposite the current so I had to hustle down to East London. It wasn’t difficult; with the strong wind aft I could set only a fraction of a headsail and still clip along at 6+ knots (plus the boost from the current which added another 2 to 3 kts). In the end I deliberately slowed down, as I have before, so I would arrive in the port during daylight hours. I am now tied to fore/aft mooring lines, aligned with the river, at the Buffalo River Yacht Club so I don’t swing on the changing tidal flow in the river.

The people at the yacht club are great. As I arrived they found a mooring spot for me and hitched Phywave to the muddy mooring lines which need to be pulled up out of the water. A few hours later a guy came by in a dinghy and asked whether I needed fuel. I had 4 empty jerry cans I hadn’t filled in Richards Bay so I said yes. He took the cans away, filled them, and brought them back to the boat with a young woman from the club who had a credit card machine so I could pay. I’ve been in a lot marinas and anchorages but I’ve never experienced this kind of concierge service. Truly brilliant.

The balance of my voyage around to Cape Town will proceed in a similar fashion – wait for a weather window to move on to the next place along the coast – Port Elizabeth, Knysna or Mossel Bay, Simonstown, maybe Hout Bay. I will clear out of South Africa at Cape Town and begin the homestretch of my voyage back across the Atlantic for the third time and North America, my 7^th continent.