Mauritius

Mark Twain wrote:

“Mauritius, was made first and then heaven; and heaven was copied after Mauritius."

We arrived in Port Louis, the capital of the Republic of Mauritius, at 12:15 on 2^nd November. We were exhausted from the battering and very much looking forward to a level environment, dry land, and a good night’s sleep. This, for now, was our idea of heaven. The boat was given a thorough cleaning upstairs and down, scrubbing away the crusty salt, the inevitable spills, and the accumulated smells from 11 tempestuous days at sea.

Our first impression of Port Louis was not so favorable, we had no vision of Twain’s heaven. The port is busy, commercial, and very, very dirty. The waters around the boat are awash with plastic bottles, old shoes, and rubbish of all sorts – not a pretty sight. The noise of the port assaults the tender soul of those who have just experienced the tranquility of Cocos Keeling and the isolation of a passage at sea. Having said all of that, it must be added, the distant volcanic hills are spectacular! The ragged outline of the volcanic outcrops, with their turrets and cascading slopes, makes for a jagged drama with an invitation to explore.

The days in Mauritius have slipped by quickly filled with fixing. Firstly, the Mamba drive, so that the auto pilot functions efficiently. Secondly, the Satellite phone, so that we can communicate, post blogs, and feel safer. The genoa has been sent to the sail maker for some repairs, the extendable boat hook fixed by Rob, a very useful and necessary piece of equipment. Rust has been removed boat wide, and fuel filters replaced. And so much more.

George participated in a local charity run and raised money for the foundation set up by Julia and James Thomas, on Adalia II, Justice and Care. He raised almost a $1,000 from all the Oyster boats docked in the Port Louis marina and came second in his division.

An excursion on Monday, 7^th November, to visit an Irish cousin of Durcan O’Hara, a friend joining us here until Cape Town, was a total pleasure. Ben and his wife, Naomi Kitchin, and 3 small children live in Tamarin Bay, 2 hours sail south down the east coast of Mauritius. They both work from home and are enjoying the heaven that Twain experienced. We met some Mauritians, including a musical group who entertained the gathering with jazz and some local Sega music. We are beginning to understand the enigma that is Mauritius. The people on this island nation are multi colored, multi racial and represent all the religions of the world. The official language is English, but it seems that French is preferred. The vast majority of locals are of Indian ancestry, descended from indentured laborers. Those of African descent were probably of slave stock and then there are the Chinese and the Malays and Indonesians, with a smattering of whites. The country is densely populated, with 1.5 million people packed like sardines in a space of 2,000 square kilometers. Tourism is their main industry, eclipsing the sugar cane prominence of former days. Mauritius is one the fore most honeymoon destinations in the world, so resorts proliferate. Golden sandy beaches framed with palms and lush tropical vegetation line the coastline. 

We decided to stay another night in the glorious Tamarin Bay, to enjoy the daily early morning spinner dolphin display, the beach side life, and the hilly hiking. George went surfing in this famous surfing spot and had his first kite surfing lesson on the beach at La Morne. He was beaming with delight at the end of the two hours, full on, class.

Rob is taking a well-deserved break for 2 months. He will leave us in La Réunion and return in early January to Cape Town. Giles, another Englishman, has joined us as first mate. Rob has been busy teaching him the intricacies and idiosyncrasies of our fine lady, Irene IV. Farewell Rob and welcome Giles!