To time it right, we left during the last half day of light headwinds. It made for some pretty dreary sailing. The wind against the Agulhas Current was kicking up a short, steep chop that effectively kept us from getting all the way up to the speed we should have been making.
When the northerlies finally arrived, they did so in fits and starts. The wind swung all around the compass and darted maddeningly between five and thirty knots, then back down again. It took an entire frustrating watch for each of us before we finally got to settle in with a nice twenty-knot tailwind.
The waves flattened, the current picked up and the waves flattened more. Now if only it would stop raining.
We arrived at East London in the middle of the next night. We were racing to get there before the northerlies that brought us turned ugly and doubled. We had needed to be there no later than 9am, but Begonia was doing especially well and with the help of a stronger than forecast current, we were nice and early.
I checked the forecasts again. We were doing between ten and eleven knots over the bottom. With that speed, we could get all the way to Port Elizabeth by 9am. The weather wouldn’t be there by then. If we could keep our speed up, which should be no problem in the building wind, it looked like we could keep going and make it to the big westbound turn at Seal Point before it reached us.
Gale warnings had been issued for both the south and east coasts, but the east portion was definitely supposed to be worse. They would be getting fifty-knot gusts, while ours were only going to be forty. With the remainder of the current behind us, it would probably only feel like thirty-five. I gently woke Maryanne to tell her that we would not be stopping this morning, we were continuing to Mossel Bay. It would take two more days and one of them was not going to be any fun. She told me she trusted me and rolled over to go back to sleep.
The morning wasn’t bad, but by nightfall, we could definitely tell we were in the leading edge of the storm. Maryanne seemed more worried than reassured when I told her as I went off watch that it was only going to be getting worse for another five or six hours. By morning, it should be back to where it is now.
When she woke me later, she said with characteristic understatement, "I don't like it."
It was pretty awful, but at least it was behind us, with all of the forces reduced by our speed. By morning, conditions were indeed nudging back into the tolerable range. Maryanne even looked a little relieved when she emerged and got her first look at the patches of blue sky outside.
By noon, conditions were downright pleasant. The skies were clear and blue and we were close-hauled in light winds and flat seas.
Another 'mixed' passage - but so excited to be approaching Mossel Bay
We arrived at Mossel Bay at first light the next morning and turned into the bay just as the wind died completely. We had been expecting to anchor in the leftover swell of the bay as we had been told by several sources that the inner harbor was full. Since it was going to be blowing hard again in a couple of days, Maryanne called the harbormaster anyway and asked if there was anywhere inside where we could tie up.
"Ya, Ya" came the response. Then he told us to raft up to a disused fishing boat on the end of the pier. Brilliant! No anchoring!
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