The main reason we were so keen to be able to stop in Mossel Bay was that Maryanne has a friend there. She worked with Merinda back in the mid-90s and since then they have maintained a friendship, albeit a long-distance one. If we had to give Mossel Bay a miss, we still would have driven to see her from Cape Town, but stopping in where she lives was even better, especially since Mossel Bay was supposed to be a nice place in its own right.
Our spot, rafted up to a stinky old fishing boat (El Marlyn), did not initially seem like a particularly nice one, but we’ve seen worse. The main thing was that we were safe behind the breakwater. As we climbed onto our guano-covered neighbor to find a place to secure our lines, we were repeatedly dive-bombed by the very territorial pair of Cape gulls that had taken up residence there.
Maryanne went to thank the Harbormaster for squeezing us in. I was making sure our engines were shipshape for the next use when I was hailed from outside. I emerged with oily hands and a headlamp on to find El Marlyn’s deck lined with five police officers. Uh, oh.
They were actually very nice. I think they had just started their shifts, saw the American flag, and popped over to make sure that we hadn’t snuck in without clearing Customs. Snuck in from where? Mossel Bay is about as far from each of South Africa’s coastal neighbors, Mozambique and Namibia, as you can get. Once I explained that we had come from Richards Bay, they said they just needed a quick look at our passports to verify we were the same couple who cleared in, and then they were off with smiles and good wishes. They didn’t even come aboard.
Once we were tidied up and had a look around, we decided that our berthing situation was actually pretty good. We were on the outer end of the commercial tugboat pier, which put Begonia behind two levels of guarded security, one for the port and another for the pier itself. El Marlyn shifted around in the gusts and floated up and down with the tide with us so our fenders and lines had much lighter duty than if we had been tied to the pier directly.
Getting ashore via El Marlyn and the gull protection squad
The transit of El Marlyn’s decks was still a bit of a gamble. When we noticed the gulls aboard were protecting a fluffy down chick, their aggressiveness made more sense. Now when they screeched and dove at us, it seemed kind of sweet. Their agitation was entirely proportional to our proximity to the chick, who was on the pilothouse roof. We avoided that area and the parents slowly seemed to realize that we meant no harm. The dive-bombings turned to just screaming, which turned to keeping an eye on us, which turned to opening an eye every now and then to see if we were still there. Maryanne and I could even tiptoe past sometimes without waking them up.
The one big downside to being in the commercial port was that they had a No Alcohol policy. They were so serious about this that they breathalyze everybody coming through the gate. Any result other than zero, even if it’s way below the driving limit, will get you turned back. That meant there would be no celebratory, passage ending beers at the nearby pub, nor any wine with dinner unless we were already hidden aboard by then.
We were too excited rest so instead we took a quick tour of Mossel Bay. We found the Tourist Office, the Gin Tasting, the old Shoe 'mailbox' and some beautiful coastline all in a short walk.
{Maryanne: Actually there is so much within a short walk, museums, plenty of restaurants, cafes and knick-knack stores, even a zipline over the ocean, and plenty of nice coastal walks too}
Now that we were finally on shore, we could meet up with Merinda! She met us on the deck of an outdoor restaurant overlooking the bay. She and Maryanne had a lot of catching up to do, which was fun for me because I got to hear Merinda’s version of many my favorite stories of Maryanne’s.
Since we couldn't sleep we called Merinda a day early to join us for a meal in the sunshine!
Merinda treated our arrival like it was a big event and spoiled us with a whole blur of fun local activities, driving us essentially anywhere we could even think of in her car. We went from one pretty spot to another, generously interrupted with cafes, bakeries, and restaurants, and always accompanied by good conversation.
A coastal walk shared with Merinda and the rock hyrax (called Dassies here in South Africa)
We ate out A LOT, enjoyed the sunshine AND enjoyed the views from atop Cape St Blaize Lighthouse
A side trip to visit Hartenbos
Best of all was a surprise she had arranged for us with the help of her brothers Pieter and Carel. They are both pilots and they each own a gyroplane. (A gyroplane has a main lifting rotor, like a helicopter, but it is not driven by the engine. Instead, it windmills from the forward motion of the aircraft, which is propelled by an airplane-style propeller). After a sunny day of fun with Merinda that would have been a great one in its own right, she drove us to the airport to meet her brothers.
Despite having never met us, Pieter and Carel were more than happy to take us each up for a scenic flight of the area, so very generous. I had never been in a gyroplane before. They were more than patient with my many novice questions, then we strapped in and taxied to the runway. I was with Pieter, Maryanne with Carel.
The open cockpits made the aircraft feel less like something we were in than something we were on. Like the difference between being inside a car and outside on a motorcycle. The views were unobstructed. They were also a lot quieter than I had expected.
Kyle was so happy to be talking flying again - thanks so much to Pieter and Carel who gave us the opportunity
After a very short takeoff, we departed the traffic pattern and headed toward the sea. After a while, both aircraft dove in formation into a canyon and we wove our way down to the beach making tight turns and pulling gs. These things are fun!
At the beach, we flew low-level while Pieter and Carel swapped between lead and wingman. We went to the end and then returned via low and slow passes by cliffs and rocky headlands. We even did a pass by Mossel Bay’s harbor to make sure those gulls hadn’t set Begonia adrift before returning to the airport. We had been gone almost an hour. I already wanted to go again. The sight picture for landing a gyroplane is definitely one that I am not used to. The downwind leg (parallel to the runway) seemed way too close to have enough room for the turn to final approach. We did, it turned out. Carel and Maryanne landed first, then Pieter flew over them and landed in front. That seems backwards, but Pieter later explained to me that by the time Carel touched down, his gyro was in such a low energy state that it would have been impossible for him to either climb or catch up to us and present a hazard. Pieter touched down right on the numbers. These weren’t the normal numbers at the beginning of the runway that airplanes aim for, they were the ones at the far, other end. Even though I understand the physics of gyroplanes, years of conditioning as a pilot of airplanes with pretty high approach speeds was making me feel like the picture was all wrong. We are going too fast and there is NOT enough runway left.
Of course there was. We slowed, touched down at about three knots and pulled onto the taxiway.
A beautiful scenic flight around the area, complete with movie-like canyon section, sharks in the water, and some amazing scenery. The vibration of the aircraft is a bit too much for the iphone image stabilization to calculate so the enlarged pictures have a bit of a queasy effect on the viewer - sorry about that!
Afterward, we were all enjoying near-beers at the aero club, aglow with memories of our flights, when Pieter invited us to his home for dinner. Why, yes, that would be lovely, thank you. Carel wasn't able to join us as he had other pre-made plans, but the rest of us could come.
Lovely doesn’t begin to describe Pieter's home. Merinda had told us about it, but there was no way she could have prepared us for what it was like to actually be there. I really can’t either. I had ridden with Pieter in his car, so he and I arrived first. When he showed me through the front door, my jaw dropped. The main floor is very open and visually feeds you through to the view out the back of a sublime and rugged mountain range fronted by rolling hills. Every part of the house seemed to be designed to flow into that view.
In fact, it was. Pieter explained to me that after a lifetime working in architecture and design, he had built this house as a culmination of all of his best ideas - his dream house. Everything in it, every tiny thing, was meticulously thought out. Even the bedside tables are individually ergonomically designed to be better than just a box with some drawers. The bathroom we used has special colored toilet paper, that matches the décor. Plus, the house has so much solar capacity that they put way more power into the grid than they ever take out. Load shedding does not have an effect on them.
I have been in a few nice houses, Hearst Castle and the White House come to mind. Both of those are unquestionably bigger, but neither is as nice. Hearst Castle is a bit gaudy and the White House is a big maze. Pieter’s house is a tour de force of elegance and minimalism. It feels so much like a work of art, rather than a place that people live, that it was hard not to feel guilty about setting our things down when we arrived. The artist was perfectly gracious about it all, convincingly insisting that he wanted us to be comfortable and not to worry about it in the least. It was just then that I realized I was wearing a T-shirt. A T-shirt! Not even a nice, monogrammed one, but a regular old one that I probably wore on our last haulout that has paint or sealant stains that I have probably stopped even seeing. Oh, dear.
After a delicious dinner prepared by his wife, Alta, Pieter invited us to screen the new Top Gun movie in his home cinema. Maryanne and I have one of those. It’s an iPad and a Bluetooth speaker. (It does take up the whole cabin, so that counts.) They make nicer ones now. Pieter has one of those.
Wow! I hate regular movie theaters now. Top Gun is the new Jennifer Connely movie where she plays a woman with a flighty boyfriend who has trouble committing because he’s obsessed with his job. The experience was so good that it didn’t feel so much like we were in Jennifer’s house, it felt like we were on the movie set with Jennifer in her movie-set house. The movie also had several action scenes featuring her boyfriend that were especially vivid and action-y. from a tiny speaker near my right ear, I swear I could hear the Director saying, “Tom, I thought we agreed; no more overacting!”
Pieter and Alta invited us stay over for the night, but all of us, including them, had things planned the next day, so we politely declined. As Merinda drove us back to the boat, the three of us were all going back and forth about what an amazing day it had been. We agreed to meet up again tomorrow after a bit of a sleep-in to recover.
We took a tour to Point of Origin cave where the earliest known evidence of modern human exists
We had another day together with Merinda before an especially good weather window for our next leg to Cape Town. Merinda got up early and drove to a place she likes so that she could arrive with a gift of fudge for us. Oooh, that was good fudge! We started the with a tour of a cave where the oldest evidence of modern humans have been found, dating from 165,000 years ago. Then it was scenery, food, scenery, scenery, food, until a final, tearful farewell on the pungent tugboat pier. Mossel Bay is a beautiful place. Merinda and her family made it so much more so with their kindness and generosity.
[Maryanne]A Huge thank you must be extended to Merinda for making our visit so amazing (and fattening). She gave us 101 new great memories and we hope we don't have to wait so long to see her again!!! We thank her too for many of the photos we've used here. Time and weather conspired against attending the many great experiences Merinda had planned for us, so there is another great reason to (hopefully) return one day.
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