I’ve spent almost my entire adult life living on the west coast, very near the Pacific Ocean, and yet I now feel like the Atlantic Ocean is my home ocean since I’ve sailed across it twice and now starting the third time. It seems familiar to me in a way only an ocean sailor can understand.

I am on the homestretch, headed west from Namibia to St. Helena Island, then onward to Antigua and South Florida, the finish line for my solo voyage to 7 continents I can now conceptually see over the horizon to the northwest. I expect to arrive there in early February. From St. Helena I’ll have about 5200 nm left to sail, shorter than my passage from Puerto Montt to the Marquesas.

Until now I kept thinking, generally, “I have a long way to go” without really putting a distance or time frame on it. Buying provisions was affected: I need a lot of food on board because I have a long way to go. I still have many cans of tuna, salmon and vegetables I bought in Chile 18 months ago.  I guess I need to start eating more tuna and draw down those reserves instead of buying new stuff because the remaining days are now certainly numbered.

I was reminded of these things this morning when I sailed across the Greenwich Meridian into the Western Hemisphere, definitely my home hemisphere, after spending more than a year on the east side.  I’m incrementally getting closer to US time zones so I won’t have to get up in the middle of the night to watch Oregon football games with Starlink. The winds and currents should be favorable for the remaining legs of my voyage, although I’ve learned never to take these things for granted or the mythology of the sea might rise up to smite me. You are well-served by humility when sailing the world’s oceans.

It’s probably not the tag line the Namibia PR people want to see but it’s accurate based on the week I spent here and the parts of the country I saw. There are other places I didn’t see in the north with big game but I do know that Namibia promotes the Namib desert and huge sand dunes as its primary attractions.

With my boat tied to a great concrete jetty, a 1 km walk from the Walvis Bay Yacht Club facilities, I rented a 4×4 Ranger pickup and headed out, first north to Swakopmund and the Skeleton Coast. Leaving Walvis Bay, the scenery quickly turned to pure desert on both sides of the road which ran parallel to the ocean a couple of hundred meters inland. There’s really nothing to see until Swakopmund.

Swakopmund is regarded here as probably the most attractive town in Namibia. Situated right on the water, it’s a pleasant, walkable place with many restaurants, shops, and hotels, unlike Walvis Bay which is a heavy-duty industrial port town.

I drove north from Swakopmund along what is known as the Skeleton Coast because of many wrecked ships there over the centuries, and because many dead whales that have washed ashore, their bleached bones sometimes scavenged in the past by local tribes to build huts. Essentially, all the shipwrecks have been so degraded over time there’s nothing left to see. One recent, very visible wreck, the “Zelia”, not far north of Swakopmund, had actually been sold for scrap and was in the process of being towed from Walvis Bay when the tow line broke. It drifted to its current location aground, not because of a navigation error or a storm. A pretty inauspicious shipwreck story.

After a night in a Swakopmund hotel I drove over rough gravel roads into the Moon Valley and spent the night at the Goanikontes Oasis, a cluster of bungalows and camping sites among the trees along the river at the bottom of the parched dry Moon Valley.  Not a particularly impressive place to stay but the restaurant and bar were OK.

Next I moved on to the “show-stopper” in Namibia, the big red sand dunes of Sossusvlei. It’s about a 300 km drive from Walvis Bay over a road that is only partially paved, the rest being gravel, sometimes very rough washboard gravel, that rattles the bones and the vehicle. I was glad I was driving a 4×4.

From all this driving I had the impression I could have been in many desert landscapes I have known, like driving around Nevada or Arizona. It just wasn’t that different or special. The Moon Valley had exposed rock formations along a river that distinguished it from the flat desert around it but otherwise not particularly noteworthy. Nevertheless, it is definitely promoted as a tourist attraction in Namibia.  I came to realize Namibia is being over-promoted in many ways.

I stayed two nights in the Sossusvlei Lodge, certainly the nicest accommodation near the big sand dunes. I thought I would need a full day to see the place but a half day was enough. The park gate opens at 6 am so everyone is lined up to enter then and see the dunes before it gets too hot.  I drove in with the rest, stop at a few viewpoints, then got to Dune 45 (yes, they’re named or numbered). This is a very popular dune to climb so I made the effort. Younger, stronger people passing me going up and down.  There really isn’t any opportunity to exercise on the boat so my cardio fitness and basic muscle strength has deteriorated since I started this voyage. But I persevered and made it to the top after a 40 minute climb.

After Dune 45 the road leads farther into the valley to the last 6 km over sand where it’s advisable to take a 4×4 shuttle with an experienced sand driver. Deadvlei is a large, ancient flat pan where water dried up eons ago leaving stark dead trees. It is found at the end of the road after a 1.5 km walk over relatively flat sand. This is also the starting point to climb “Big Daddy”, the largest dune in the park and one of the largest in the world at almost 300 meters tall.  After the struggle to climb the smaller Dune 45, there’d be no Big Daddy for me.

And that’s it. There’s a smaller version of Deadvlei called Hiddenvlei if you want to see it. There is also Sesreim Canyon, a 30 meter deep rocky canyon that runs for about 2 km. Because of shade throughout the day, sometimes water will still pool there attracting animals. None were there when I stopped. Anyway, you can do it all before lunch and before the afternoon heat.  Overall, I was disappointed with the place. There are certainly the huge red sand dunes but they’re far away from the road so you don’t get the sense of them looming over you.

From Sossusvlei I drove back to Walvis Bay along the same poor road. I spent my last morning there, before departure on November 21, on a half day tour south to Sandwich Harbour. That tour is basically a lot of dune driving on big while sand dunes that run down to the sea.  I went on this tour mainly to satisfy myself that I had seen it all in terms of what Namibia primarily promotes as their top attractions.

According to a few local tour guides I met along the way, “land of sand” tourism suffers from the poor roads and limited infrastructure. Tour operators from Europe and elsewhere don’t want to send people here and subject them to the bad roads and sparse accommodations.

I’m glad I saw it for myself, though.  If you’re in the neighborhood, as I was, it’s worth a visit but I don’t think Namibia is spectacular enough to warrant a special trip just to see it.

I chose to stop at Saldanha Bay about 50 nm north of Cape Town mainly to clear out of South Africa. The process was relatively new for Saldanha Bay and was reported to be much more streamlined than clearing out at Cape Town, the alternative. That turned out to be the case.

I was able to book a berth at the small marina at Yachtport in Saldanha Bay. They primarily do maintenance on boats, especially hull maintenance on large boats because they have the only 100 ton travel lift in South Africa. A travel lift is a large steel frame on wheels with heavy straps that are placed under the boat while it’s in the water.  Electric winches on the travel lift hoist the boat out of the water so it can be moved to a place on dry land ( “on the hard” in boat lingo).  Once there, fixed supports are used to hold the boat so the travel lift can be released for another job.  The process is reversed to put the boat back in the water.

Of course, I didn’t need  the travel lift service having just done this in Richards Bay where I had the hull cleaned and new anti-fouling paint applied.  Incidentally, Phywave was much faster in the water after that work, at least a knot or more. It pays to have a clean hull.

Given the technicians on-site at Yachtport, I had them do a few maintenance items, like an oil change in the Volvo-Penta D2-50 engine. I also had them clean one side of my dual Racor diesel fuel filter and replace the 10 micron filter cartridge. I furnished the filters and oil which I already had on board.  All this was in preparation for crossing the Atlantic and avoiding any potential problems along the way. I won’t have any serious help with engine problems, or get new filters or parts, until I reach the Caribbean.

I also took the opportunity to add to my provisions. With a rental car I visited the Checkers supermarkets in 2 large malls that are within about a 20 minute drive from Yachtport.

The biggest thing I did while in Saldanha Bay was change my route. Since being in South Africa people have been telling me how great Namibia is, that I really should stop there. In particular, a cruiser I met in Hout Bay who is from Namibia gave me some specific information on where to go and what to see.  I vacillated for several days over whether to go. This voyage is beginning to wear on me so I’m anxious to complete my 7 continents mission by returning to North America.  However, I realized I would probably never pass this way again so if I ever wanted to see Namibia, now is the time. Secondarily, I didn’t want to arrive in the Caribbean too soon, like over the Christmas and  New Years holidays when the place will no doubt be jammed with boats and people.  Some further delay, like a stop in Namibia, would help.

With those two factors in mind, I decided to head for Namibia to be followed by St. Helena on my original itinerary.  I left Yachtport Friday,  November 8, at 1200z, headed north to Walvis Bay with very favorable winds forecast along the route.

I kept my boat a total of 10 days at the Hout Bay Yacht Club marina, partly to fix a few things but also to have some time to explore this southwestern part of South Africa.

One thing I wanted to accomplish while there were some simple repairs to my mainsail. One of the batten sleeves needed to be re-sewn and I needed to replace the broken top batten. Unlike my previous stops in South Africa, Cape Town has capable sail-makers who could easily accomplish these tasks. I contacted Ullman Sails on Friday and they sent a team Monday morning to collect the sail from my boat and take it back to their shop. They came with a long sail bag and 4 guys so the sail could be rolled up with the battens still in place and taken away, especially easy with a furling boom. This is very efficient, avoiding having to take the sail down, removing the battens, and flake (fold) the sail into a square bundle for transport. They brought it back Thursday afternoon with the repairs made and fitted back on the boom, with my direction. It was expensive have the sail collected and delivered from their shop in Cape Town but the convenience was well worth it.

I had rental car while in Hout Bay I picked up at the Cape Town airport, using Uber to get there from Hout Bay. I drove east to visit friends Alex and Ronel Ponot, and their three kids who now live in Stilbaai on the coast. I first met them in Oregon where they owned a motel in Pacific City and then a horse ranch near Salem. A few years ago they sold it all and moved to the Perigord region of France, including transporting several horses there. They had a horse ranch in Perigord as well but Alex, who is French, said the French bureaucracy was so stifling he couldn’t make a business of it so they decided to move again, this time to South Africa but without the horses this time. Ronel is originally from Pretoria. They have a beach house in Stillbaai and a large ranch outside of town where I stayed with them for the night. I had a good time seeing a slice of South African life visitors don’t normally see.

After Stilbaai I drove down to Cape Agulhas, the southernmost point in Africa, where I spent the night in a great B&B near the lighthouse at the cape. Of course, they also have a prominent marker, and precise line, declaring it the point separating the Indian and Atlantic Oceans, all a pretty artificial construct. The oceans don’t know their names or where one begins and the other ends.

On the drive to Stilbaai and back I was amazed by the vast farm fields, orchards, and vineyards on both sides of the N2 highway. The soil and climate must certainly be conducive to agriculture, no doubt a key reason Europeans were drawn to settle here centuries ago.

Before returning to my boat in Hout Bay I spent the afternoon at the Victoria & Alfred (V&A) section of Cape Town, an area of old industrial wharfs and warehouses that have been re-purposed and expanded to house many restaurants and shops. With broad walkways and plazas along the water, it reminded me a little of Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco. There is also a nice marina here where I could have put the boat instead of Hout Bay. If you want your boat in Cape Town this is a better place to go than the larger marina at the Royal Cape Yacht Club. I had lunch at RCYC one day when I was in town buying spare parts. The club and marina are situated in a very industrial part of the port. Walking out the front door you are confronted with railroad tracks and long lines of trucks waiting to unload their containers. Unlike the V&A marina, there are no restaurants or shops anywhere nearby. You would definitely need a car if you put your boat at the RCYC marina.