Taila Islands

We awoke to a certain calm on March 15th. Even though the forecast was for more strong winds, we thought we would say goodbye to our buddy boat and try a quick 12-nautical-mile jaunt north where according to the Red Sea cruising guidebook was a suitable anchorage that protects against a north wind.

As soon as we rounded the point with only a light breeze, there were steep, short, residual waves that required us to fall off enough to avoid bashing into them. After an hour, we finally got on the lee of a large offshore reef that calmed the sea enough for a direct approach to our day's destination, 3 small sandy cays on the extended coral platform of Taila (Sudan).

As usual, it was approaching in clear water, and with the sun at our backs, we safely anchored in a patchwork of coral and sand. The lee side of the Taila islets provided a good protection from waves but not from the whistling wind that passed right over the low laying atolls. We could deal with that. We settled into a slow pace of activities here for the next 3 days to wait out the north winds.

After strolling the beach, we did some snorkelling on the way back to the boat. What was becoming evident was the drop in temperature of the air and the water as we increased our degrees of latitude but not enough to stop us from snorkelling which we do whenever we get the chance. The Red Sea's healthy coral and sea life and water clarity make it a first class dive destination in that respect.

Colourful soft and hard coral

There is always something for the sailor to do to fill their time. Upon discovering our wind indicator on the deck of the boat, Jordan climbed the mast to reattach it. Was it a bird or the wind that knocked it down? While he was up there, the rigging and all things get an inspection. This time it required new zip straps to secure the spreader light wires.

The Tailas from above

Chanty's kept busy too!

During our stay here, several small fishing pangas were spotted at the next tiny cay. They too were waiting it out on the protected side. One of them came over to Sea Turtle and asked if we wanted any fish. As we still had plenty of our own, we declined.

Their intention had probably been to trade fish; they asked if we had a few items such as cigarettes, sugar, or coffee. A non-smokers and only having a small amount of coffee left, we couldn't help them there, but we had lots of sugar so gave them a Ziploc bagful. Jordan treated them with 4 beer. They left very happy!

In high spirits

What? Evicted again?

March 13: Just before daybreak, we crept out of the sleeping Port of Sudan. Again, beating into a breeze, we were heading north for Marsa Arakiya. The guidebook had shown it was an anchorage with a friendly military presence, but after 8 hours of motor-sailing, we discovered that this was not to be.

As soon as we were about to anchor (N20°13.872 E037°12.249), we were once again immediately ordered to leave.

Okay, now where? The concern was that the next available protected anchorage was further north and the winds were picking up by this time. To make it before dark, we had to motor-sail into a good opposing chip, tacking back and forth to avoid bashing directly into the waves. With just enough light to make our way through some coral bommies, we anchored in the lee of Wreck Point by Marsa Salak (N20°27.729 E037°13.835).

Wreck Point anchorage

This became our haven against 2 days of strong north winds.

Evicted

After an enjoyable stay at Suakin, we pulled anchor at 06:45 and continued our coastal journey north cautiously beating into a light breeze through reefed channels.

Old Town of Suakin

Later that afternoon just north of Port of Sudan, there was an unnamed channel in through the reef which we chose for a night of protected anchorage (N19°39.507 E037°14.580). But just after we anchored, a military launch approached with horn blaring and demanded with no Ifs Ands or Buts that we leave as this was a restricted military area.

They ushered us back down the coast a few miles and had us enter the Port of Sudan, a stop that we tried to avoid as it normally requires the expense and hassle of checking in. We simply wanted a safe place to anchor and be off the next day.

By the time we anchored in the tight confines of the harbour in front of the town and beside the commercial pier, it was nigh 18:30 (N19°36.490 E037°13.388). It was a long day with some frustrations but on the positive side, we avoided the complicated official check in by a super nice official and internet was excellent.

We had to crane our necks to look up

Around Suakin

With some spare time, Jordan and I walked around the indigent town of Suakin (Sudan) which in spite of its condition presented us with many cheerful smiles plus some photo ops.

Portrait of contrasts

Best friends forever

Building in town

Clothing for women was very bright and colourful in most instances. Typical wear for men was usually a white caftan over their regular clothes with either a cap or turban.

Lots of colour on a windy day

Transportation of people and/or items was by donkey, bicycle, walking, or the very seldom seen car.

Beast of burden

To market, to market...

Suakin

The day's destination was the town of Suakin in Sudan to do our official check in. It was about 6 hours away from Harorayeet (Two Islets). We left at 06:30 motor-sailing with barely a whisper of wind. But the tedium was soon broken by the shuddering fishing rod eliciting an exciting Fish! Fish! as cat and master ran to reel it in. It was a nice mackerel, its excellent light meat enough for a few meals.

Reel good

We entered a break in the reef for a mile long transit down a channel that ended at the town of Suakin. We passed an area of the old town on Suakin Island that was in ruins and looked like the remnants of bombs. But not so. Many decades ago, that part of the town was abandoned as the main port for the area and people and commerce flowed north to another town, Port of Sudan. So the buildings had simply eroded away and crumbled down with no maintenance.

Harsh desert erosion

Walking the ruins (after we anchored)

Once again at anchor (N19°06.510 E037°20.278), we had our paperwork tended to by a required Agent, Mohammed. He was dressed in the typical attire for this area: a long, white, flowing caftan replete with white rounded skullcap (called a taqiyah) that presented a stark contrast to his dark skin and dusty environment.

Agent Mohammed

Other than checking us in officially, his services also included fuel delivery by 50-L jerry jugs, taking our laundry to town, providing a SIM card for internet, arranging a tour for the next day, and providing a shore pass for us. His Agent fee was a reasonable $40 US.

Mohammed took us on a tour, along with SV Jubilee, to the Abu Hadab Museum of Folklore. Along the way to the Museum which was on the outskirts of town, we had a camel faceoff.

Calf only a few days old

The Museum was a collection of early photos of Suakin Island and the ruins as they crumbled to their demise. Also on display were bits and pieces of brass containers, urns, furniture, and clothing. History has it that Suakin was a significant port of seafarers for hundreds of years including the slave trade. Slave trade in the Middle East was happening centuries before it arrived in the Americas.

3 from Jubilee with us and an employee (courtesy of SV Jubilee)

The town's stores and markets were able to supply us with only basic groceries and produce.

Colourful selection of the basics

Typical street scene

Harorayeet (Two Islets)

After a good night's sleep, we headed out on what would be a short day sail over to Harorayeet, also known as Two Islets. We first thought our anchorage would be at Dhanab Al Qirsh (aka Green Reef), just past Harorayeet, but as we approached we could see that the labyrinth of reefs made it a perilous choice. So we backtracked to the two small islets.

It was a good choice. We anchored safely (N18°53.334 E037°45.717) between the two lovely islets in 9 m (30 ft) of sand out of the wind and waves.

Our first sight was an indigenous fisherman motor-sailing his small panga past. He had obviously made the sail and it seemed to be doing an excellent job.

Home-made sail

We dinghied ashore with Chanty. This was still new to her as she is strictly a boat cat. She scrambled along the hot sandy beach not really enjoying it so we took her back to Sea Turtle so that we could beachcomb at our leisure and found it to be yet another great spot for shelling.

Can I go back now?

A ways off the shore, we saw two large eagles that were paying too much attention to us. We found out why soon enough when walking through the low bush we came across a nest of sticks, just lying out in plain sight, and sitting perfectly still were two well grown eaglets staring straight ahead. As exposed as they were, the makings blended in perfectly with the weathered twigs of the next. We silently crept away so as not to disturb them as frantic parents flew overhead.

We also walked past several dead turtle shells and/or skulls which were distressing to see. Here, turtles are eaten and not considered an endangered species, though they probably are.

Easy prey for fishermen

We snorkelled back to Sea Turtle as we dragged the dinghy along behind us. There was a lot of coloured coral and several bright fish.

Brain coral and colourful clams

We had company that night in the anchorage. A couple of fishing boats called this their night's stop as well so we stopped to say hello. They spoke no English but were very friendly and showed us all their fish. We returned to Sea Turtle and contemplated our good fortune of a comfortable boat compared to their evening in an open boat with lots of smelly fish in a Styrofoam ice chest, an open fire in the bottom of their boat to cook their late meal, and a couple of wooden slats to sleep on.

Opposite of luxury

Talla Talla Saqir

It was a nice and relaxing stop at Fawn Cove (Sudan), but we really needed to get to the town of Suakin to officially check into Sudan. So on March 8th at 07:00 we up'd anchor and headed north beating into 15-knot headwinds. We were now starting to get those north winds that are typical for the northern part of the Red Sea.

Leaving Fawn Cove (courtesy of SV Jubilee)

There is an abundance of coral reefs along the coast making night sailing nerve wracking to say the least, however as well, there are many islets or islands to safely anchor for the night. The islet of Talla Talla Saqir was our chosen stop after a long day and we were making it after dark.

SV Jubilee, the other boat we have been travelling with since Sri Lanka, had made it in there before us and had the lights on so with that and a close eye on the depth sounder, we crept in to a safe anchor drop (N18°45.950' E038°00.613'). Wheww!

Fawn Cove

Fawn Cove was our first anchorage in the Red Sea in southern Sudan. Anchored in this idyllic cove provided us with a quintessential African scene that could be of any century past. We were remote, to the point of hearing no man-made sound. Reaching away from the long sandy beaches rose waves of golden dunes and beyond were layered mountain ranges in shades of pastel blue. It conjured up images of seeing Lawrence coming over the dunes on his camel.

We hopped in the dinghy and went to a small island nearby for, what else, beachcombing! And what a treat...there were large shells all over the place. It quickly became evident from the piles of shells everywhere that they were the remains of many a meal. And not just of recent times - the eroded banks showed layers of shells.

Going back to Sea Turtle

Under the watchful eyes of a pair of large eagles, we collected a sack full of shells and finally had to say No more!

Guarding the island

The next day to complete this African scene that surrounded us was a herd of grazing camels. After making our way through corals, we beached the dinghy and said hello to the humped beasts. They were really quite docile even with some young-uns about.

Smile, you're on Camel Camera!

From out of nowhere it seemed, two Bedouins came loafing over to us. Through gestures and scrapes in the sand, we deciphered this was their drove.

Bedouin buddies

We then hiked over to check out the dunes. Climbing them was harder, and not as much fun, as coming back down...

Dune descent

To Sudan

In the coming days, strong gap winds were forecasted for the narrow entrance to the Red Sea which was just about 50 nautical miles away. We decided to try to beat the worst and leave pronto on the 28th of February at 17:45.

As we sailed towards the Red Sea entrance, the winds as predicted, were building. By the time we went through the gap, the doorway to the Red Sea, we were in a full gale. The wind was on our tail and Sea Turtle flying only a small staysail was clipping along at record speeds, even seeing a 10-knot reading.

She handled the winds and steep waves well. After about a day and a half, the winds eased through 20 knots, and within a day, down to nothing. We were doing a 5-day run to Sudan, which would take us about a third of the way up the Red Sea.

Our original thoughts were to island hop along the African coast of Eritrea (which is before Sudan), but once again, plans changed. Eritrea is extremely poor where lawlessness is a means of existence for some, a situation not unlike Venezuela or Haiti.

We were told of a sailor who stopped at an outer island and was approached by non-uniformed armed men claiming to be Coast Guard demanding that they be escorted into the city. The sailor pulled anchor and made an escape but not before shots were fired. He didn't look back to see if the shots were at him or overhead.

Currently, entering Eritrean ports goes with a definite danger of being robbed and/or facing bogus charges laid in order to bleed money from sailors. Needless to say, we sailed past.

Once the winds died and we motored, one day we noticed that we were going exceptionally slow, even taking into account the effects of the current against us. Finally Jordan stopped the engine and with mask on, dove down to see what the problem was. He discovered a tangled clump of seaweed wrapped around the propeller. A quick chop chop and we were off and back to normal speeds.

Not long after coming into Sudan waters, we reached our first anchorage, Fawn Cove. It was tucked up at the north end of a large bay that required winding our way through coral studded channels and shores to get in.

Conning for coral

We dropped the anchor on March 5th, 09:00 local time, (N18°15.886' E038°15.820') in the tranquil inlet. SV Jubilee and SV Wai-O-Tira joined us a short time later.

Djibouti

At the west end of the Gulf of Aden is the much lesser Golfo de Tadjourna with the City of Djibouti guarding the entrance. On the 26th of February, we rounded the point to anchor at 07:45 (N11°35.942' E043°08.041') in front of the City and alongside 3 sailing vessels, friends making these same passages.

Typical trading vessel

Upon checking in, we were issued with "shore passes" so that we could visit the City of Djibouti, a large city with few pleasing features. The Visa and shore pass costs made this short stop expensive but we needed to top up on fuel and stock up on some groceries, especially fresh produce, plus we wanted to see the City.

We found the clothing bright and the mix of colours and patterns not necessarily matching. Even the traditional burquas, commonly just black, were colourful. A nice change. With few exceptions, men wore long pants but however we did see young boys wearing shorts.

We quickly learned that there were some sneaky tactics employed by some to part the dollars from us boaters. A typical tactic is an insistent helpful hand that in the end turns into an intimidating demand for money.

The other tactic we experienced was, without a shred of shame, a demand for more than an agreed price at the end of our taxi ride. A crowd had gathered to watch the showdown as Jordan had a real face-off, nose-to-nose, with our taxi driver who finally gave in to the original price after we started to walk away without any payment.

The buses were more fun and more welcoming and of course much cheaper. Like taxis, they were decorated with a faux fur dashboard cover - that had seen cleaner days - and a frilly cloth or vinyl trim around the outside mirrors, in a lame attempt to make it look like a flower blossom.

We were advised not to purchase a SIM card as internet was extremely slow, if it worked at all. So we trotted off to a major hotel to use their free WiFi and email family and friends. But at $10 per coffee, it negated the bonus of free internet. We have found Djibouti to be extremely expensive; a real culture shock after the affordable Asian countries.

Djibouti is now an independent country but was once a French Republic. Some still speak French and the Franc is used as their currency. Jordan was dreaming of delicious French pastries, but alas, none were to be found.

There were two distinct places to shop. One was a clean and modern supermarket with many imported western products priced almost twice what we would pay in Canada. In contrast, was the open air fruit and veggie market where the shelves were well stocked and where goats scavenged through the trash.

HOW much did you say!

At the market, we were able to find people who were willing to have their photo taken, whereas most others we encountered in the City turned away when a photo was requested. Big smiles were received when we showed them their photo on the camera.

Show me my picture!

Busy tossing her seeds

I managed to sneak a photo of this poor young girl who would hold out her hand for money. Begging was not an uncommon practice wherever we went. Avoiding eye contact limited those encounters. Distressing, as this is an expensive country for poor people to live.

Can you spare a Franc?

Djibouti is a city in contrasts. You have abject poverty somehow co-existing with a flourishing international business. Some make no qualms of blatantly overcharging to the point of ripping you off, however, theft is unheard of. Older money-changing ladies sit on the sidewalks with bags of money with no worry of theft.

After two days and in a weather conference with the other sailors, we thought it best to head out and into the Red Sea. It was best summed up in the conversation by two of us: "Djibouti has lost its charm." The other responded, "I didn't find any charm to begin with."

Early departure

The next morning at Socotra Island (Yemen), we woke bleary eyed after a fitful night's sleep as the strong north wind made our exposed anchorage rough and rolly. Our plans for this day had been to tour the Island, buy some produce, and find internet connection but with the winds it wasn't an option to leave Sea Turtle unattended on a lee shore.

With forecast for more of the same, we felt it prudent to cut our visit short and set sail. It was a disappointment not seeing more features of this unique island - in particular the cartoon trees that grow no other place on earth except Socotra Island.

Dragon Blood Trees (copied from internet)

Cucumber Trees (copied from internet)

Before we could leave, we had to wait for our passports and check-out document and some requested produce. When they were eventually delivered, we paid up for the services and said our goodbyes as Denis our Agent jumped back into the bobbing panga to head to shore.

Saying goodbye

In the swells that were now rolling in, it was a challenge hoisting the outboard off the dinghy and then the dinghy up on deck while the boat was bucking and rolling. Then even more tenuous was getting the now well-buried anchor up. When winching in the chain, the nose of the boat heaved up, putting incredible strain on the gear.

To add to the dilemma, the anchor and/or chain seemed to be hooked fast on rock or coral, giving a sickening yank on the chain as the boat heaved up and down. When it wouldn't free up, Jordan backed off and donned fins and mask to dive down to see what was hanging things up.

Fortunately we manoeuvred to get the hook free and up. SV Jubilee was making the same escape at the same time and having a worse time of it.

We hoisted sails and were on our way at 13:30 February 20th. (We later learned that Jubilee had to hire a diver and a 40-HP boat to pull his anchor free.)

Catching a good breeze

When it came time to taste the tomatoes that Denis had purchased for us from Socotra, we were pleasantly surprised. They were the freshest and most succulent we have ever tasted! They were not at all bland as many supermarket tomatoes are today. Maybe it was the goat manure! In any event, what a treat.

It brought back memories of the best arugula we ever tasted from another remote island, Easter Island of all places. And the delicious pamplemousse of the Marquesas Islands in French Polynesia.

We spent the first day and a half making some northing to be in the center of the Gulf of Aden before a more westerly downwind run straight to Djibouti. This tactic was to join the designated shipping lane where the 50+ freighters a day that transit this area are in the presence of multi-national navy warships to deter the threat of Somali piracy. We hugged close to the side of the lane watching as the big boys passed us going each way. The Gulf is flanked by Somalia to the south and Yemen to the north.

We were contacted by a passing French coalition warship asking if we were aware of the status of piracy in the area. We said we were and gave them our particulars before they wished us safe passage.

They were one of a few warships that passed us on their patrols. Their efforts have definitely curtailed piracy in this area to the extent that is has been attack free for the last couple of years. But it was a comforting feeling to know that warships were still patrolling the nearby areas to maintain the safe passage of us and major ship traffic.

Warship escort

Several times throughout our voyage through the shipping lanes, we heard the Navy warships n VHF requesting boats to report any suspicious activity. We also noticed a warship that seemed to be tailing us for several hours. Babysitting? LOL

We kept in regular contact with other sailing boats via HF radio even though we were well out of sight from each other, just to see how each was doing. How's the wind? Catch any fish? etc.

Speaking of fish, Jordan kept us fed with another fish similar to Skipjack Tuna but with meat like the Yellow Fin Tuna. We determined it was a Bigeye Tuna. It gave us fish steaks and fish cakes for a few days. And we were entertained by jumping dolphins once again...

Dolphin escort

Through our AIS, we identified freighter and cargo ships flagged from all over the world: Singapore, Malta, Spain, Japan, China, Denmark, Panama, Greece, Russia...Many noted "Armed Guards Onboard" on their AIS identification.

One day in a light following breeze, we put up our Thai-coloured spinnaker. Chanty definitely enjoyed the easy ride with the billowing sail. She loves to look out at the ocean waves too. We always have her harness on when she is in the cockpit during a passage as we don't want her to be another cat overboard that we have heard stories of from sad sailors.

Billowed brilliance

Are we there yet?

My chef Jordan decided it was time to bake bread once again. Then to use up excess produce, he continued with banana muffins and carrot cake. Days were a little cooler now so it wasn't too terribly dreadful to turn on the oven and the result was well worth it!

Galley goodies

Socotra

Our first planned stop on our passage from the Maldives to the Red Sea was the rarely visited large island of Socotra just off the point of Somalia and 150 miles off the Horn of Africa. On the 10th day of our journey just as we were pulling into the anchorage, Jordan suddenly jumped as he realized there was a good-sized fish on the line. Slowly reeling it in, it was indeed a 7 kg (15 lb) Yellow Fin tuna. You are always a welcomed arrival if you have fresh fish to share with the other sailors.

Yellow Fin catch

More than she can chew...

,,,and more than we can eat

We set anchor at 09:30 on February 19th (N12°41.105' E054°04.793') in an open roadstead alongside fellow sailors SV Jubilee and catamaran Lazy Jack. Rugged mountains and lofty sand dunes loomed large above us and other indigenous working vessels.

Wish we had a dune buggy!

Once again, we were required to check in with the aid of an Agent. We hailed the Russian Agent Denis on Channel 72 and were soon approached by a panga with Denis' helper Mohammed and a man from Port Control. A minimum amount of paperwork was done and a disproportionate large fee for exactly who knows what was apparently a requirement. We were at their mercy.

Mohammed was very accommodating, offering to arrange for laundry services and any sort of Island tour. Our first question was cell phone coverage with data plan to access internet. We could only get internet after 17:00 (power is off till then) at Denis' house by suing his WiFi. At this time, no SIM cards are available for the local public but may be in the future.

With daylight to spare, we headed to shore, landing on the beach in a slight surf. From there, Mohammed and the officer drove us to town about 10 km down the coast for a look around. On the way, travelling on the paved road, we noticed a fair amount of construction scattered over the rocky barren land roaming with goats. Impressive rock masonry was juxtaposed with trash, mostly of the plastic type strewn about.

Once in the dense town center, the roads became rough and much of it unpaved. Lots of pedestrians milled about or were going about their daily activities but what was conspicuous was the almost total absence of women. What ones we did see were cloaked in black berquas with only the eyes showing. It was all men and goats at about a 1:1 ratio.

When we inquired where the women were and if they were required to dress that way, we were told that they stay at home doing the domestic chores and as for berquas only of black, they apparently wish to dress that way. It was the Muslim way. Okay, enough said.

Typical Socotra street scene (copied from Google Earth)

Rather than pants, the typical dress for men is the wrap-skirt called a futa. Most wore scarf type of affair on their head that was wrapped like a loose turban when it wasn't just slung over the shoulder. Many men walked along holding hands with their buddies.

Being there at lunch hour was good timing as we wanted to sample their island cooking. Of the couple places available, we chose a wee busy rudimentary open-air concern that, judging how busy it was, suggested it was a good choice.

We were conspicuous foreigners so inquisitive eyes were on us as we plunked ourselves down on rickety benches at a rickety table that was promptly cleared for us. As the fish was sold out, Mohammed insisted on quickly fetching a Grouper from his home that he just caught for them to cook up for us.

In the meantime, friendly patrons at the next table brought over a big plate of barbecued fish filet for us to start on. Then the kitchen food just kept coming: Pepsi, bottled water, soup, large flat bread, vegetable curry dip, flavoured rice, tray of chopped up fresh vegetables, barbecued fish, and barbecued chicken for our Agent and driver.

We dined the Muslim fashion, eating without utensils using our right hands all sharing from the same dishes. What was left over, the goats, being opportunists that they are, managed to snatch a tray off the table. The proprietors didn't even shoo them away. They love their goats. When it was time to leave, we were told that it was all on the house!

On our way back to Sea Turtle, there were 2 grounded freighters, casualty of that notorious pair of cyclones a week apart that rolled right through here about 14 months ago. A salvage crew was working on 1 in an attempt to re-float it out soon. When Mohammed said he knew the Captain and we could go aboard, Jordan eagerly said yes. We clambered over the rocks and up the ladder and were welcomed by Captain and workers.

If this hulk could talk

The Captain showed us all around, through the engine room and bridge of this tired old 1980 freighter ending up in his cabin for tea and lots of conversation about plying the local pirate infested seas.

By the time we got back to the dinghy, an on-shore wind was kicking up the seas with good-sized surf crashing onto the beach. We said our thanks and goodbyes to our hosts of the day and with quick timing shoved off between breaking waves. Not wanting to do this rough beach landing again and in the dark, we reluctantly had to pass on an invite to the Agent's home planned that evening for internet.