Year 7, The Burgate School

New Pictures

Not to put too fine a point on it…

Cape Verde islands

Kealoha

West Africa… or not

Tenth W2N newsletter

I'm trying to find a way of sending photos using webmail but for the time being, I'm afraid it'll have to wait - sorry.

Also, this newsletter is only being posted to the blog for now and not emailed to the mailing list. This is also for technical reasons but now that the project is venturing into rather primitive lands, I'm having to make a few technical compromises.
Year 7, The Burgate School
Occasionally, an email arrives that really puts my little project into perspective. Without exception, the messages have been supportive and you really can’t possibly know how nice it is to get those. I’m having a huge adventure out here but from time to time, it is unbearably lonely. More than once I have reflected on the voyage ahead and wondered what on earth I could possibly have been thinking when I devised the concept. For me, the ‘Where to Next?’ project is a personal challenge and is everything I’d hoped it would be but knowing that you are following my progress with interest is, well, daunting and reassuring in equal measure.

One such email was from my cousin Jude whose son George had been following the project closely and had chosen it as the subject of his presentation to the class. So, from this tiny island in the Cape Verde islands just off of the West African coast, I would like to say a HUGE HELLO to everyone in Mrs Boswell’s Year 7 class at The Burgate School. Specifically, a big HELLO too to George and I really hope the presentation went well. You should know that this is as much a Geography lesson for me as it is for you!

Another touching email was from a lady called Elaine in Spain but my replies and newsletters are being bounced back for some reason. I wanted to thank Elaine for her kind words so I hope you don’t mind me using the blog (and Newsletter) for that purpose. Thank you Elaine. I’m truly honoured to be compared to such sailing pioneers and I’m quite jealous of your Galapagos cruise – very nice indeed!

There were so many others too from all over the world – China, Finland, Spain, Australia, Caribbean, France, Portugal… Too many to list here but to everyone who has offered support, offered best wishes or just emailed to say hello… Thank you!

New Pictures

Just a quick note to let you know that the gallery has been updated on the w2n website. It now has an intuitive layout and includes pictures not only of my departure in September but of the Round the Island Race and a few from my voyage so far.

Not to put too fine a point on it…

Hmmm, it’s quite a big ol’ thing this world, isn’t it!? I’ve just spent most of the afternoon trawling through cruising guides, pilot books and electronic charts in an effort to find a way of tackling the next leg of the voyage and although life here feels like a million miles from the sanitised world I’ve grown up in, there is still so much adventure, so many new friends, so many extraordinary experiences ahead. Not to put too fine a point on it, it’s getting serious now! I mentioned the next leg and I’ll come back to that later as there are going to be some very specific challenges but I’m at the point now where virtually every cruising sailor sets a course for Brazil or the Caribbean following the strong North Equatorial Current west. From Europe, it is said that to reach America, simply sail south until the butter melts and then turn west! My course though will be a southerly one aiming roughly towards South Africa and that is something that was decided by a vote by subscribers to the W2N newsletter and something that is, well, unconventional. It’s certainly not impossible though and the experience is guaranteed to imbue the project with colour, intrigue and adventure. As I say though, more of that later.

…And if you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to be professional crew on a privately owned €4.5M Superyacht, let me tell you that it’s not all about partying into the early hours and getting to play with unfathomably beautiful, award winning yachts at someone else’s expense. Oh, no hold on… no, it is all about parting into….! More about that too.

First though, I don’t really know where to start but as I find myself in the Cape Verde Islands in the Atlantic just off the West African coast, I thought it might be good manners to let you know a bit about that.

Cape Verde islands

Sometimes the mighty dice must be defied. A rather vague immigration policy, designed to provide superficially meaningful employment for short people who enjoy wearing pseudo military uniforms with big bunches of keys clipped to their belts and sunglasses like the ones in CHIPS, has demonstrated little regard for the game and insisted upon a landfall not in Sao Nicolau but in Sao Vicente. That’s not what the dice instructed but it probably betrays more about my limited research than it does about the local authority! Yes, so my first landfall in the Cape Verde’s was in Sao Vicente and as the nature of the game dictates that my opinions and observations should be primarily about the places chosen by the dice and not necessarily those chosen by the architects of immigration policy, I’m going to try if I can to find things of interest about Sao Nicolau that cannot be found on Sao Vicente. Having said that, my short trip ashore this morning revealed nothing although my first impression is that the people here are yet to be corrupted by tourism in the way that they have in Vicente. Tourism hasn’t really had such an impression here and there are no tourist concessions to speak of. Just as in Sao Vicente, there are Mercados selling a very limited range of goods but very little is produced on the island and the availability of imported goods is rather sketchy. The result is that you might find, say, biscuits next to the workshop tools or in another shop you might find a few items of furniture and perhaps some writing paper. Almost certainly there will be a range of goods emblazoned with the Cape Verde flag but there is no logic to it and I get the impression that whenever a container arrives on the quay, the local shop owners scramble to buy whatever tat is arriving that day. The situation was made worse recently by a huge fire in Sao Vicente that destroyed the port warehouse and with it, a critical link in the islands’ supply chain. It also had the effect of increasing prices – of everything; from very expensive to criminally expensive. Prices on all the islands are higher than in Europe although the standard of living is disproportionately low and the prevalence of abject poverty is evident everywhere. I thought this might just be on the islands frequented by tourists but when I tried to buy a simple paper map of the region this morning, I was asked to part with 2,000 Escudos; very roughly €20. It’s hard to reconcile such expense when all around, the quality of life is pitiful. Actually, maybe that’s not entirely fair. Certainly here on Sao Nicolau, the locals, particularly the school children, seem very happy so it’s possibly not the quality of life that is low but their perceived value of life. I’ve been told by a number of people that there is an inherent tendency for those who are fortunate enough to have work, to simply stop when they have accrued enough money for the immediate future. Theft is common too and not just from employers – from each other. A development on the beach in Mindelo has been abandoned by an Austrian investor simply because he can no longer tolerate working with local labour. This of course makes investment difficult and with no indigenous concept of self-improvement, enterprise or loyalty, they are entirely reliant upon foreign input. This, so I’m told, is supplied ‘in kind’ by a number of European and US countries although, certainly as far as water and electricity are concerned, that input comes at a prohibitively high price. This lack of integrity extends too to the local attitude to fidelity. Promiscuity and prostitution are endemic. Women massively outnumber the men and it’s not uncommon for a man to have numerous girlfriends or to father a hundred children or more.

Cruise ships started arriving in Sao Vicente about four months ago and it’s clear to see from the great swathes of land sold for development that the island is poised for an economic boom. For the one-day visitors, I can’t imagine how the port is being sold as a tourist destination but for those prepared to stay a little longer and travel beyond the town, the scenery is like nothing I’ve ever come across before. It’s truly incredible. Just when I’d finally settled on some poignant wording to describe the severity of the volcanic topography of La Palma, I find myself now groping hopelessly for the words to illustrate the landscape of the Cape Verde islands. If such a thing is possible, La Palma looks like a watercolour painting with predictably ordered mountainous peaks; unimaginably high, but softened with subtle shades of flora and fauna. Behind Mindelo in Sao Vicente and Tarrafal in Sao Nicolau, stretching from one coast to another lies a landscape that lacks La Palma’s majesty but is completely devoid of vegetation or forestry. It is a bleak, dusty, severe landscape that, using the painting analogy might have been a Jackson Pollock created by dropping buckets of burnt sienna, yellow ochre and… um, brown paint from a great height and then Cossack dancing all over it in slippers made of wire wool. The moon maybe – I don’t know. It’s volcanic, yes, but it looks nothing like the volcanoes we made at school out of Plastecine or even the ones we studied in our Geography lessons. So we’re clear about that then right? It’s rugged okay?!

It’s fascinating too. I took a bus out to a beach on the north of the island and of course, juddering along cobbled highways through indigenous communities, I was as fascinated by the local ability to subsist in such conditions as I was by the scenery all around me. It’s life on such a basic level. I derived a theory when I sold everything to fund this trip that the complications in life are directly proportional to the number of keys you carry! I now carry just one key, a small one, and that reflects the bohemian life I’ve chosen. Looking at these communities, few of the houses even have front doors so you have to ask yourself, is it really so bad? Well yes, probably. In Mindelo, although the cruise ships have only recently cast their shadow over the town, yachts have been coming here for years as a very useful port to provision before heading for the Caribbean or Brazil. If the locals were ignorant of such a valuable resource, they might be content with the maniana pace of life, the climate, the music. The sad truth is though that it is impossible to walk through the streets of Mindelo without being relentlessly harassed. In an effort to exploit the tourism trade, a self-propagating crisis in Mindelo has suffocated the spirit of the town. The authorities know the value of tourism and try to protect it – or at least try to be seen to be protecting it. The shops know the value of tourism and with little regard for the local economy, have raised prices to match or exceed those in Europe although as I said earlier, this has been influenced too by the convoluted supply chain. Well, that just leaves the people; the ‘man on the street’ - literally. From what I can tell, those that aren’t mugging the tourists, or like Kai; the owner of the marina, robbing them in an entirely legal form of extortion, the more enterprising street beggars stalk the tourists trying to sell ‘Tourist Information’. Ever met a poor Lawyer? They do much the same; exploiting intellectual property even in its most basic form. In prosperous countries, asking for directions is to provide a well meaning local with the opportunity to impart his or her knowledge in such a way as to demonstrate not only their local knowledge but also a pride in their village or town. In poor countries, simply asking, sometimes without even asking, being given directions is going to cost you money. Not officially of course but it is assumed. When you come from a country where it can be equally assumed that this sort of information will be willingly offered, it is saddening to find that in one of only three entry ports for tourism into the Cape Verde’s, there is neither a tourist office or any shame in the fact that local knowledge is wilfully ransomed. It makes me sad that something as simple as a government funded tourist office would, overnight, improve the tourist experience and yet, such initiatives have been ignored by a corrupt bureaucratic system and an apathetic attitude.

If you’ve been following my blogs, you’ll probably see a pattern emerging. I’m conscious of sounding really negative about the places I’m visiting but without exception, for me, the most memorable experiences have been beyond the cities and towns. Sao Vicente was no exception and Sao Nicolau would be too if I could find a way of getting out of the town safely and cheaply! My trip to the beach in Sao Vicente was astonishing though. The journey was far from comfortable as I bundled into the overcrowded minibus but every twist and turn revealed a jaw-dropping vista and the beach was virtually unpopulated. Honestly, if it had been in Europe, the unimaginably rocky scene that frames the beach would have been lined with Starbucks, MacDonald’s and KFC. Here, nothing for as far as the eye can see. Most beaches in the region are black but here, unusually, the white sand stretched for miles. The water was cold enough to be a relief from the scorching midday sun but even being in the middle of the Atlantic, it was tolerably warm. By coincidence, on the bus I’d been sitting next to a Belgian woman called Natalie who lived on the island and runs a chocolate factory! She was heading to the beach to purge a hangover and besides one elderly couple, we had the entire beach to ourselves. That was of course until my new friends Tom, Lou, Steve, Dan, Ed and Kath arrived in their hired ‘Ranger’. Now, let me tell you about them…

Kealoha
From a ‘human interest’ perspective and selfishly, for my own travel-writing purposes, even the more infuriating elements of the places I visit are fascinating. Generally, I have at least a few fond memories and I don’t doubt for a second that there are many more to come. Some are the sort of memories that only a sober man would have after a night on a €4.5M Superyacht. I was in the Clube Nautico bar near the marina in Mindelo, sitting alone listening to some live music. It reminded me of the late Israel Kamakawiwo'ole from Hawaii whose simple folk music is laced with pride, joy and melancholy reflection. It’s the kind of music that without understanding a single word, you know is infused with cultural symbolism. My efforts to be more extroverted were failing me and I must have looked lonely as I was invited by the people on the next table to join them for a drink. Talking to Tom, the skipper, it was soon clear that they were the crew of a seven month old, 27m André Hoek designed, traditionally styled yacht that dominated the pontoons. After a few more drinks in the bar and the inevitable drunken dancing (and then a few more drinks), we naturally migrated back to their boat Kealoha where after a quick tour, the partying began. Naturally, the music attracted more and more people from neighbouring boats and by three in the morning, the deck was populated by all nationalities. So many new friends, each with their own fascinating sailing agendas. Tom and his crew became such good friends over the next few days and having then seen the boat in daylight, it was clear to see why it had been awarded Boat International’s Superyacht of the Year. Certainly for me, thinking about how to earn a living when my circumnavigation is complete, I was intrigued by the extravagant lifestyle and slightly envious of the crew who were, without exception, deliriously happy in their ‘work’. Kealoha’s extensive library came in handy too as I was running out of time to make a decision on the next leg of the voyage.

West Africa… or not

It’d been worrying me for a while as I’d been struggling to find any information and hadn’t seen a ship’s chandlery since leaving Portugal. Using a couple of cruising guides covering the West African coast, I was able to confirm my suspicions that much of the coastal route would be unthinkably dangerous. Perhaps it would be easier to quote from Jimmy Cornell’s World Cruising Guide as he states rather unambiguously

“With the exception of Senegal and the Gambia, the west coast of Africa is largely bypassed by cruising yachts and hardly any venture south of the Ivory Coast. This is the main reason why none of the countries between the Gulf of Guinea and Namibia were included in this book, but also because it was felt that for the time being most of those countries are best avoided…”

Okay, go on…

“…According to reports received from commercial ships as well as travellers in the region, the conditions that prevail in those countries, the cases of piracy, corruption, crime and diseases, as well as the total lack of facilities, should deter anyone from visiting them, particularly as by yacht one is more vulnerable than if travelling in an organised group.”

Give it to me straight Jimmy…

“…However, for a taste of West Africa, no place is better suited to explore by yacht than Senegal and the Gambia, whose rivers and estuaries provide an excellent cruising ground without the dangers lying further south.”

It did make me chuckle though when on the same page, the chapter begins with the “The Seventh Continent”; Antarctica! So, weighing up the dangers, I’m inclined to say that even giving the dice a ‘number six’ option of sending me anywhere near that huge stretch of West African coastline would be idiotic. Besides the salient points raised by Jimmy, I have to consider what’s technically known as the Intertropical Convergence Zone (ITCZ), or more commonly referred to as The Doldrums where a windless band spans the Atlantic just north of the equator. Then there’s the Benguela Current heading north up the coast of West Africa which, combined with the prevailing souteasterly winds, would make a coastal route almost unbearable and with a “total lack of facilities” there would be very few places to run and hide if things started getting messy. It’s why all the round-the-world racers tend to take a westerly route towards Brazil on the favourable currents before turning east in the Southern Ocean. I’ll finalise the dice options soon but for now, it’s looking very much like I may simply give the dice an ‘odds’ or ‘evens’ choice of Senegal or the Gambia. From there, I could still tackle the big transatlantic detour to Brazil or, dice willing, a long arduous drag down to Ascension Island and St Helena before crossing the prevailing winds and current back into Namibia. Maybe I’ll dispense with the dice and head straight for Ascension Island for a traditional British Christmas! I really don’t know yet but I’ll make a decision very soon. There is a part of me that wants so much to just pick six completely random choices here but hey, it is just a game and even the Gambia and Senegal still have their problems so it’s really not worth risking everything for the sake of trying to be a hero.

Finding someone to throw the dice for me is going to be interesting! The local language is a mixture of Portuguese and Creole, neither of which I speak or understand. Few people speak English and although they seem friendlier here than in Sao Vicente, I’m not sure I really want to be drawing attention to myself! It’ll be fine though I’m sure. Once that’s done, I’ll head to Santiago; another ‘Port of Entry’ or, in this case, ‘Exit’ where I’ll spend some time checking my immunisations and travel insurance before setting off for the African coast!

That's it for now,

Bee