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Kasuje - Durban - yee haa!!!



We arrived in Durban around lunch time yesterday, Sunday.  After a thorough clean up of Kasuje, it was straight into the nearest yacht club (there are three here) for some beer that stays where you put it down and a really nice meal in the fish restaurant beside the marina.  Bit of a hangover this morning.  But, hey it was worth it.
 
We, along with the rest of the fleet had a pretty rough crossing at times, which was actually quite exhilerating.  Especially when you realise that Kasuje can actually take in her stride everything that was thrown at her and a lot more if necessary.
 
It is probably quite difficult for those who haven't experienced "heavy" weather in an open ocean to appreciate what it is like.  It is also quite difficult to describe.  However I would like to try to paint a picture of one aspect for you.
 
When I arrived in Mauritius a couple of weeks ago last week, which incidentally feels like about a year ago now, Steve asked "where would you like to sleep on the boat?"  There is a choice of three cabins.  One at the front, one just behind that, and one at the back.  Steve had the one at the back.  The one in the middle seemed pretty small.  The one at the front is a good size with a berth on either side, lots of cupboards, space to spread yourself out etc etc.  Luxury I thought.  So that is the one I chose.  Now this was fine when we were in the port in Mauritius and also on the very benign crossing to Reunion, when we didn't sleep much anyway.  Then for the 4 days in Reunion - brilliant.  I had managed to spread myself out with drying clothes, half dirty clothes, spare pillow, sun hat, towel and various other paraphenalia scattered liberally about.  Luxury.  Then we set off for South Africa.  To start with, the weather was fairly calm. Still OK.  Then it got a bit rougher - and everything changed.  Luxury turned to bedlam.
 
I think everybody can appreciate that, when a boat is on the sea and there are waves around, the boat goes up and down with the waves.  And we have had some pretty big waves over the last two or three days.  When you watch a boat it is obvious that this vertical movement is a lot more pronounced at the front.  So - time for a sleep.  Lie down on the berth and immediately this vertical movement becomes apparent.  The problem is that is never regular.  It might start with a gentle up and down motion.  You think "ah this is quite nice".  That is fine.  Then all of a suden the boat hits a bigger wave or one at a slightly different angle.  She rears up like a frightened stallion and you are launched towards the ceiling.  Soon after this, you briefly experience weightlessness before starting the downward fall back to the berth.  You then wait in dread for it to happen again.  But you have no idea when this will be.  That is the vertcal movement.  Then there is the horizontal movement.  Due to the random nature of the sea, this is also competely unpredictable.  The boat is constantly being pushed and pulled sideways by the waves and you have no option but to go with it.  If you are lying on your back, this plays havoc with your internal organs and a stomach full of the curry that you have just eaten.  Furthermore, the wave that propelled you towards the ceiling might also push the boat sideways.  So that it is not always certain that the berh will be under you when you complete your downward journey.  Then there is the rotational motion.  As the wind blows with varying gusts and the waves hit the side of the boat, the boat rolls from side to side.  Generally you lie on the downhill berth in the join between the berth and the side of the boat.  Theoretically this should be reasonably stable.  However, when this rotational motion really gets going, you end up either rolling across the berth or up the side of the boat.  Very confusing.  On top of all this there is the heat.  It is really is quite warm out here at the moment.  As the seas are quite large, all the hatches have to be closed.  This has the effect of making this little cabin pretty hot and stuffy.  Then there is the noise.  As the boat progresses through the sea, it makes a nice, from the outside, pretty little bow wave.  From the inside in the middle of the night, and separated from this bow wave by only a centimetre or so of fibreglass, this sounds quite like the Niagra Falls.  On top of that, at completely random intervals, a slightly different wave will break on the side of the boat right by your ear.  KER-BANG!!!  You think "Bloody hell we have just run into a supertanker!"
 
All the above combine to make your periods off watch not that conducive to the peaceful sleep that you are starting to need.  So last night I gave up and went to join Steve in his cabin (not in the biblical sense you understand) at the back of the boat.  He has two large berths in that cabin with boards, known as lee boards.  These fix along the length of the berth to prevent you rolling sideways by effectively reducing the width of the bed to about 2 feet.  Now as I said before, the boat's up and down movement is generally most pronounced at the front.  At the back there appears to be very little up and down as the boat seems to rotate about that end.  It just gently follows the swell of the sea.  The effects of the sideways movements, which also are greatly reduced at the back are completely taken care of by the lee boards, in that you are gently, but firmly, held in place.  Similarly with the rotation.  Without the vertical catapulting you stay in your little nest.  Then there is the peace and quiet.  As all the waves are hitting the front of the boat, by the time they get to the back they have been subdued and the water quietly slips past the outside of the hull.  No noise!  In fact the only really discernible noise is the autohelm that quietly purrs away as it magically steers the boat towards it's destination.  You drift off to sleep quietly trying to make a song out of this purring.  Very soporific.  A good night's sleep at last.
 
So to summarise.  The difference between the two ends of the boat can be likened to being gently rocked to sleep by your Mum as she sang you a lullaby when you were a baby - or trying to sleep in her tumble drier with knackered bearings!
 
Love to all
 
From Dennis and Kasuje crew



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