Eritrea and the Sudan:

Redwings Round the World

Eritrea and the Sudan

22 March - 12 April, 1998

Redwings in Khor Shin Ab, A Typical Red Sea Anchorage

We don't have many pictures from this point as we figured when we got to Israel it would be easy to just scan in good 35mm pics which would be better quality than those produced by the digital camera. However, it costs US$20 to develop a role of film and the developers don't have the technology to put in on disk so I guess it'll be awhile before we beef up the photo segments of out pages going forward. Sorry Liz P.

22 March, Massawa, Eritrea

Aaron - We motored into Massawa Harbor past several huge cargo ships lying at anchor at 0600 just as it was getting light. On calling into port control, we were instructed to tie up alongside the "big ship" quay just behind a large container ship.

As we approached the quay, a guy on a bike peddled up, jumped off, and helped us with the lines ashore. As soon as we were secure, he shook my hand, welcomed us to Eritrea, and produced his business card: "Mike" "Laundry, Ships Chandler". These guys don't waste any time (its was 0630)!! He immediately offered to take me to show me the way to immigration and customs and made me promise to call him later to arrange for laundry washing, diesel, spares, food, whatever - at your service.

The harbormaster was an incredibly friendly and helpful guy. There was almost nothing in the bombed out building (literally - the civil war with Ethiopia ended only in 1991 and Massawa was shelled heavily) they were using as an office, but they were there manning the radios (half of the ports you call into don't bother to answer) and prepared to check us in quickly even so early in the morning. We were given temporary shore passes until we could officially get checked in later (today was a holiday). A chart on the wall graphically displayed the increase in arrival of "tourist boats" (yachts) over the past few years. Over 200 had called so far in 1998 - a 50% increase to date versus last year. 10 years ago, during the civil war, yachts that strayed too close to this area were often rammed and sunk by Ethiopian patrol boats. The warmth of the Eritreans and their interest in what we are doing and appreciation of the fact that we are stopping in their country is amazing. They really see the benefits of developing a tourist industry and hope the yachties, really the pioneer tourists to this country, will spread the word.

Back at the boat the Redwings crew had befriended the crew of the big smoker in front of us and were hauling jerry cans of water back and forth from the big ship. Nice score as there was no dockside water open at the moment and were almost bone dry due to the inoperable watermaker.

Everything is finally all falling into place - NOT. When I went to the bow to ready the line to cast off, I looked down at the anchor windlass and saw a milky white ooze seeping from the base of it. Oh oh. A closer look revealed that the plug on top of the windlass had somehow fallen which meant that as we shipped water over the bow, the unit slowly filled up with salt water mixing with the gearbox lube oil inside. Well this is one piece of kit that I have not the foggiest idea of what is inside - so far just push a button and it works. So I set to work taking it apart which was actually pretty easy - its just a powerful little electrical motor that spins a shaft which meshes with the gears which winch up the anchor. Of course, when I tugged the motor off the gearbox was wide open so all of the watery oil left inside went all over the deck - a hell of a mess. We all just cleaned for awhile and then I flushed the gearbox with several pints of motor oil (good thing we bought lots in Oman), put the motor back in, and topped her up with more motor oil (I hope this works as we don't have any gearbox oil at the moment). We then found a large bolt that basically fit in the hole on the top, cranked her up and.... It works! Well of course it does. After looking at it it will be tough to bust this thing.

So now let the good times roll!! Wow there are about 20 boats in the anchorage! The most we have seen all together since we left the boat lagoon. We plopped down in a nice 7 meter spot, got the dingy in the water, and whizzed back to shore.

What an interesting place! Massawa is a real port town: basically bars/cafes, hotels, and brothels. But for a third world African city it is extremely clean - hardly any garbage on the streets. The dirt / mud winding side alleys and streets are even swept clean. It is clear that people have very little here, but they are not looking for hand outs, give a big smile, say hello, are dressed as well as possible, and seem to have purpose in their stride. Very different from Yemen where they had a bit more, but trashed it and made less of what they did have and did not seem to know what they wanted (except whatever you could give them for free) or where they were going. The buildings are still literally riddled with bullet holes and there is also still evidence of bomb blasts.

We pulled into a cafe for some 15 cent espressos and a perusal of the menu, and were quickly waved over to the table of a cruising couple we had never met named Peter and Ellie from Kannakahia. What a trip this pair was! They seemed nice enough, but some of their stories are a bit far out. Apparently they took on crew in Oman, a 15 year old boy, and he has been horing and partying it up in Massawa (as well as getting in trouble by the police for selling his CD's on the black market). He reportedly jumped off their boat, on which they tried to contain him after his exploits, and is supposedly being "harbored" by one of the other yachts in the anchorage. All of his stuff is still on Kannakahia and Peter and Ellie don't want to give it back until they get some sort of release form of responsibility for the kid. Peter then went on to tell us how he was an international judge in the Hage, lost a US$40 million fortune in the BCCI collapse, and how his 55 foot boat is worth US$1 million, how they were slandered by an Indian newspaper during their stay in Cochin and are suing (good luck with that one) etc. etc. Ok. Sure. Well these people seem nice enough and they gave us a lot of good info about Massawa and Eritrea, but they certainly seem a bit delusional.

23 March, Massawa, Eritrea

Aaron - This is one day I will never forget. First of all, I achieved a new low on the stupidity scale. So ok, as you know we have water in the starboard fuel tank. No big deal. We are here. Time to deal with it and get to know Redwings' insides that much better. The fuel tank cleaning operation went very well. Through the inspection port on the top of the tank, we used a hand pump and long hose to get the fuel out. We transferred the clean stuff that was on top into the port tank (after filtering it) and then pumped out the water and dirty fuel that had settled at the bottom into jerry cans for discarding ashore. Even though the tank had (supposedly) been cleaned out in HK, when I stuck my arm in the tank I was able to gouge out a full handful of gunk (like mud) off the bottom. We swished down the tank with gasoline, scrubbed it with brushes and got as much dirt out as possible.

Given that there was so much muck in the bottom of the tank, I thought I would blow out the fuel line to make sure it was not blocked. So I put the fuel tank selector to the starboard tank, unscrewed the hose where it then leads towards the fuel filters on the engine, and blew on it. Kerry, who was looking in the tank with a flashlight, confirmed that air was coming out and that there did not seem to be any blockage. Great. Hook the fuel line back up, close up the inspection port on the engine, and we are ready to go get fueled up. Now, here's the thing. Obviously there is now no fuel in either a) the tank or b) the line to the tank. So being the brilliant mechanic that I am, I made a "mental" note when I switched the main fuel line to the starboard tank to make sure that I switched it back to one of the port tanks before we turned on the motor again.

But in the excitement of getting the job done, and in the rush to make it to the fuel dock before they closed at 1400, I lost my mental note and just bounded topside, cranked up the engine, and gave the order to start winching up the anchor. Within a few minuets, we were underway and approaching the fuel dock.... but no... the drama does not start here... we made it fine, tied up and took 400 liters of fuel, filled our water tanks, and hosed the boat down. Rush, rush, rush as it was now after 1400 and these guys were angling for tips for staying late. Lets leave. Ok Laura you take to dingy to go to town to by groceries, quick Colleen, Kerry get the lines free, fend off, watch the bows of those fishing boats, ok good day's work and its early yet lets get back and anchor.

And then, finally, as we steamed into the channel at several knots leaving the fuel dock behind, the inevitable occurred: the engine quit. All of a sudden it dawned on me what had happened: the air in the fuel line I blew out finally made it to the injectors. But at least now there is fuel behind it. Mistake # 1: my first reaction was to reach down and try to crank the engine over for awhile in hopes that the air would be pushed through and the new fuel would enter the system and allow it to start - no luck. When I bent down to crank the engine, I was not too worried as we were well clear of any boats - just one big green moored fishing boat 50 meters or so off our bow - we are going real slow anyway, aren't we? When I popped back up five seconds later, we were closing fairly fast on the green hulk. I yelled for Colleen to come back to turn on the windlass (so we could drop the anchor) and for Kerry to get some fenders ready on the off chance that we bumped this guy. We were aimed at the aft quarter of this boat so I tried to coast up on a course that would allow us to pass her stern, but the wind and current was coming from that direction and it became pretty obvious that we would not make it, so I swung us down to port - all the time yelling at Colleen and Kerry to get the anchor ready, no get fenders, quick - do something!!! When are we going to stop!!! I thought we were going slow when the engine quit and we have covered some distance but we are still moving relentlessly towards this ship. Finally, the anchor was ready to let go. But it was too late. We are going to hit this mother. Right smack in the middle. Rightly or wrongly, I decided to hit him with our anchor and bow roller as I figured it would be tough to do any damage to his one-inch think steel hull and I was afraid if we sideswiped him our hull would take severe beating and the rig might get tangled with something aloft on the fishing boat. During the last five or so seconds of our approach (the whole drill probably lasted 20 seconds) two guys on the ship were waving and yelling at us telling us to reverse! turn! stop! or whatever and we tried to gesticulate back to them that we could not stop and please help fend off. I shut my eyes just before impact. The last thing I saw was poor Colleen trying to hold a totally ineffectual fender between the two boats. WHANG - the shot heard round Massawa Harbor. Redwings and her rig shook as we bounced off. The guys on the boat kept yelling and gesticulating at us pointing to a visible indentation on the side of their hull. I said "we" (point at me and girls) "come back" (point down and then in large arc) "later" (all with lots of smiles and deferential bowing and sorries). By now, we were clear and drop the anchor. I quickly jumped down to bury my head in my arms and cry in private.... no actually to bleed the air out of the engine. Good thing I have had a lot of practice at this and now hang two appropriately sized wrenches in the engine room just for those real special yachting moments like this one. Several minuets later I was done and popped back out, only to see Craig from Martini Cat hanging off the stern in his dingy asking Colleen and Kerry if we were all right etc. We're fine. Thanks. "I watched the whole thing. Why didn't you just turn right away. You would have had tons of room". I forgot to plug my brains in today ok? No worries. I actually rather enjoy public humiliation, alright.

Of course the engine started right up and we quickly hauled the anchor up and slunk back into the anchorage wondering how many of the other boats apart from Martini Cat had been provided with free entertainment at our expense. Apparently, Laura was still at the fuel dock jabbering with the pump attendants (a rich and full dialogue I'm sure) when they heard the WANG and one of the pumpies said (while gasping for breath between riotous laughs) "Oh.... problem.... American Boat Red-things have problem"..... Yeah buddy it does look that way doesn't it? Or perhaps they are just testing out the elastic properties of fiberglass and steel.

Inspection of the bow revealed we got off fairly well. The bow roller had lifted about one inch off the bow and twisted a bit and some of the roller's welds had cracked, but it seemed to still be totally solid. It actually probably acted as a good shock absorber as it was able to bend up a bit and may have saved us from more serious structural damage.

Ok so now we have to worry about the fishing boat. Here's my plan. All four of us (Laura had returned) will go over bearing gifts. All four of us cause how mad can they get with three ladies in presence? At least I hope they won't beat me up. A bottle of wine was to be the gift. On arrival, we climbed aboard and waxed lyrical about how foolish and dumb we (me) were and how sorry we are and please forgive us etc. etc. The spoke absolutely zero English and our Eritrean is a bit below par - lots of sign langie. The pathetic act seemed basically to work and it appeared that they forgave us, but they were not sure what the "Captain" (the one English word I heard) would do. I wrote down my name and the name of the boat and they said they would give it to him and he would probably come see us when he returned tomorrow (or something like that - they were probably just telling me to get stuffed).

They could not figure out what the wine was. "Whiskey?" (ok so they knew at least two English words) "No", Laura explained "Grapes. Old Grapes." yeah they really followed that one.... "No, No, No want" (these guys are Muslims anyway) "want" and then he grabbed my shorts and started tugging. Now either a) he wants to engage in a homosexual act with me (hopefully in private) or b) he actually wants my shorts! I play dumb and assume its the shorts (which of course it is) and then also point at my shirt and he greedily wags his head. I then started to strip (anything to get out of this cheap - we have only a few hundred dollars to make it to Egypt on) but they (the fisherman) held me back and indicated that I could bring them something from the boat. Great! We have loads of extra t-shirts etc! Laura brought them each a brand new Ballantine's King's Cup t-shirt (which we all hated and never wore), two RICOH photocopier baseball hats (which we also never wore) and two pairs of my old shorts. Apparently they were very pleased, although the thinner one seemed to wonder how we was going to support my shorts on his waist. That was the last we ever saw of them.... the Captain never paid us a visit.

But this day just would not quit and went from shitty to weird to bizarre. Just after dark as we were getting dinner, I heard a voice call out from nearby. I went on deck and saw 5-6 dinghies approaching us through the twilight. "Hey what's this?" I yelled jokingly "a boarding party?" "Oh don't worry" the voice in the forwardmost dingy replied "we are after someone else". By now the yachtie (who I did not recognize) was alongside Redwings standing up and holding on to our rail. "See this kid here" a blond teenager sat in the bow of the dingy "some people are holding his stuff and we are going to get it back". My mind flashed to the strange story Peter and Ellie had plied us with yesterday but I played dumb. "What do you want? I don't understand?" "Don't worry. We just want numbers. Get in your dingy and come with us. This kid needs help". "I'm sorry but I need more info than this before I go rushing off into the night, what are you talking about" "Don't worry. No one's going to get hurt. We just want numbers. Just numbers". "Well sorry but we don't know the story so we are not going" "Ok Redwings but everyone else here has just come at the drop of a hat to help out so whatever......"

And they all motored and paddled off towards Kannakahia. Before long, we could see that they were all clustered around the stern of Kannakhina and we could hear yelling and screaming and threats of "you better stay off my boat" and "we are going to board you if you don't give it back" etc. Really upsetting and amazing. We watched a mob scene unfold in front of us and you can really see how normally rational and good people can get sucked into something evil. Ok the Kannakahia people probably are assholes and I'm sure they have not been great to this kid, but there must be two sides to the story and I can understand why they would want to hold his passport and stuff till he had a plane ticket out and or they could somehow be legally absolved of responsibility for him. I find it hard to believe that we would be expected to participate in a night time boarding even though we were a new boat in the anchorage and they (the ring leader / other boats involved) knew we did not know the whole story. Apparently, many of the other boats did not know the details of what had occurred either. Fortunately, nothing happened and they were able to retrieve the kid's stuff, but I was afraid that things could have easily escalated and people might have been seriously injured. As Lee on Quest later said to the ringleader the following day when he got in (after hearing the story from us) "try that on Quest and there'll be five empty dinghies".

To top the day off, La Scala came in at midnight and we helped lead them into the anchorage by dingy. After they anchored, we scrambled aboard and spilled all of the week's stories out in a torrent till almost dawn.

24 March, Massawa, Eritrea

Laura - Kerry's 30th birthday! We spent much of the day in town preparing for the big party with La Scala and Quest. Kerry, Colleen and I took the luggage cart in the dinghy and bought food and beer. The grocery store is this cool little place with high arched wooden doors and a woman proprietor who sits behind a wooden desk. The stacked shelves go to the ceiling. She has everything from soccer balls to powdered milk. But no beer. For that we had to go across the street. The local beer comes in brown bottles with no labels and it is what you get if you simply ask for beer. Kerry found a good stock at a nearby bar where the local bar girls called her "sister' and demanded high fives. We picked up a case and trundled it through town on the luggage cart.

Colleen and I zipped out to the boat to check on the cake that I was baking. Aaron, who had stayed on the boat to do laundry, had taken it out of the oven at the perfect time, although the cake had risen straight up out of the pan in a giant square and then cracked at the top like continental plates.

Back to shore and Kerry and I wandered around and she bought a phone card to call home. For some reason her parent's new area code wouldn't work, but she got through to her sister Colette and had a brief chat. Met Mike at the dinghy at 4 p.m to get the laundry. We had a talk about the war. Apparently, Massawa saw a lot of fighting which would explain why there are so many crumbling buildings and bullet holes in some walls. Mike said everyone fought, including the women, which is why there is general equality between the sexes in Eritrea. To me that is evident in the number of women working and driving cars and in the fact that as a foreign woman I don't feel stared at or even particularly "other." I feel quite at ease, unlike Oman or Yemen, even when I wear shorts.

On Redwings again, we cooked up a storm. Colleen had made humus and eggplant surprise. Aaron made focaccia. My cake turned out well and I whipped up some icing from a recipe I made in my head. I also cooked the fish provided by La Scala under the guidance of Philipa. The boat seemed crowded with nine people eating, but the evening was fun, even when it rained. We were completely tired out by the end and we didn't manage to rally for the disco. Maybe some other night.

For birthday presents, Kerry got a book of Arabic sayings from me and a t-shirt of a cat diving among many fishes in the Maldives from Aaron and Colleen.

Kerry - I actually had two visits with my "sisters" mentioned above. It was only upon my second when I returned with Colleen and Laura to buy the beer they said they would sell to me that I realized they were more like "sisters of the night." As they sat with us, high-fiving, handshaking, etc., attempting to teach us supposed Eritrean sayings, after one of us repeated the first one, and they all burst out laughing, it became apparent to me then that they were trying to teach us some off-color Eritrean. One clue led to the next, and then I finally got it. So, we did stay for a bit, got the beer for the big party, then promised to return later to their bar when in town. We never made it back into town that night, and so never really had to go back on that promise. Massawa is a small place and the nightspots are all sort of clustered together, so it would have been difficult to avoid our new hangout.

My thirtieth was a fun one, complete with Laura's homemade, huge chocolate cake (recipe compliments of boat Honey Bee) and an eclectic mix of people present to help celebrate. I loved both of my presents - I had admired the t-shirt in the Maldives a while back, and had thought it odd that Aaron didn't get one for himself since I thought he would have loved the cat theme. And, I was right, he did like it, and had gotten one as well - but didn't want to wear it yet to spoil the surprise. My book of sayings from Oman was also one I had admired - it lists the Arabic rendition of a saying first, then the literal transition, and then the English equivalent last. An example of one direct translation is (I am skipping the Arabic spelling as our laptop isn't equipped with Arabic keys, believe it or not) : "I have neither a male or a female camel in it." The transliteration being: "It's no skin off my nose." Anyway, I found them amusing.

25 March, Massawa- Asmara, Eritrea

Laura - The Redwings gang roused early for the bus to Asmara, the Eritrean capital. The purpose of the trip was to get Egyptian visas. The bus ride was five hours or so with a short break half way. My only complaint was that the guy in the seat in front of me kept leaning back and leaning over me to spit big lugies out my window. The temperature got cooler and cooler as we wound up and up through the mountains to Asmara.

Once off the bus, we headed for the Legese Hotel, which Mike and some other boats had recommended. On the way we were stopped by three young men, who, with great concern, asked if it's true that Tupac is really dead. Unfortunately, I had to tell them that yes, in fact the rapper was shot nearly a year ago. They seemed a bit upset, but cheered up enough to walk us to the hotel.

By the time we got there I was already infatuated with Asmara. The place is clean, I mean spic and span, with wide, palm tree-line streets. People are crisply dressed in completely out-of-style-clothes. There aren't many cars, but the sidewalks are bustling and sidewalk cafes, presumably a remnant of Italian occupation, dominate the main drag.

After checking in and hitting the bank, we headed to the Egyptian embassy, but got there as it closed. So we did the next best thing - pizza. And we found Eritrean pizza to be wonderful, warm and cheezy. Yum. In the middle of it, the rain that we learned would come almost every afternoon thundered down like a drum roll on the metal roof. We were warm and content and spent a couple hours over our meal.

After the sky cleared, we wandered the streets looking at shops and chatting to people. The people are sooo attractive. We spent a while talking to a tiny nun in the flowere-filled courtyard of the Catholic church on the main street. She was Eritrean, but spoke English with an Italian accent. In the early evening, we found the local library and spent a few hours reading the Herald Tribune and magazines. The place was crowded with Eritreans catching up on the news too.

The night was rainy, but Kerry and I went out for a long walk and watched people going in and out of the bars.

26 March, Asmara, Eritrea

Laura - Spent the morning at the Egyptian Embassy and the big green Post Office. We also stopped in at a local art school where a teacher showed us around and showed us his own paintings of the war. Too much of the day was spent worrying about money. Aaron has been trying to have money wired, but somehow a Western Union deal, which is the way money has to be wired if one wants it to arrive, got turned into a regular wire transaction and we are concerned that his money may be forever lost in Ethiopia.

I stopped in at the offices of a local publication and spent an hour or so talking with the publisher, who recently launched an English edition of his "news magazine." It was rather eclectic and included a poem that was a tribute to Eritrean beer.

In the afternoon rain, Kerry and I hit the market. It was really pouring and we had to seek refuge in a snack bar in which we got some funny looks as I think it is mostly frequented by people who work in the market. Then we hid under the shelter of a basket maker's stand. Kerry bought a couple lovely little baskets.

Had mediocre food for dinner at an Italian restaurant called Milano.

27 March, Asmara, Eritrea

Laura - I can't help myself. I haven't had coffee in two years, ever since I had to quit because it made me have a Jeckell-Hyde life, but here in Asmara, it's so good and so cheap and so easy. I started out the morning with two cappuccinos and one pastry at a sunny cafe on the main drag. Not a bad morning of watching the Eritreans begin the day in their crisply pressed 1970s clothing, outfits that are so out of style that they have actually come back. I guess it's a fortunate fashion accident.

Aaron went off to make yet another attempt to get money and managed to arrange some Western Union deal through his mother that actually worked. Phew. Kerry went off in search of an egg sandwich. Colleen and I just sat in the sun working on our caffeine buzzes.

Much of the morning was spent in the extensive market, which is divided into sections for vegetables, grains, fruit, jerry cans, household goods, crafts, etc. Kerry and I headed for a section called the Medeber, which is an area about the size of two football fields that is filled with rows of privately owned stalls. In each stall industrious Eritreans recycle scraps of wood or metal or old car parts or other machines into functioning stoves, axe heads, pots, and other goods for sale. The place is just banging with activity.

We wandered through a big cemetery on a hillside behind the Medeber afterwards. Many of the tombs had photos on them and many of the people seemed Italian or of Italian descent. Then we re-united with Aaron and Colleen for a pizza lunch. In the afternoon we bumped into the folks from La Scala, Dracamaris, and Quest, who had come up from Massawa just for one night. Colleen ended up going back with them in the van to take care of the cats.

Aaron and I spent the afternoon with a taxi driver going around to look at different sites where the war was fought. We saw a lot of bashed up Soviet tanks and with his limited English our taxi driver, an ex-soldier, described the battles that took place just outside Asmara.

In the evening, Kerry and I went to a photo exhibit at the Alliance Francaise on the invitation of our friend Mr. Gabriel from the art school. The photos were of Eritrea and were pretty good. The exhibit was something of a bash with an international crowd and free beer and food. We met an Englishman who told us not to be fooled by Eritrea -- that it's really a dictatorship and everyone who is anyone is in jail. I wasn't sure what to make of that since I really don't get that sense from the country and none of the Eritreans I've met have complained, although they have had plenty of opportunity to talk privately me.

28 March, Asmara-Massawa, Eritrea

Laura - On our last day in Asmara, Aaron, Kerry and I went out for breakfast at an Italian restaurant. Egg sandwiches with cheese and fresh tomato on warm rolls and lots of tea and coffee. MMM civilization. Took a last quick trip to the market and then back to Legese to pack up. We took a taxi to the bus station because we had jerry cans and buckets and oil and unfortunately we just missed a bus. So, we spent an hour sitting on a hot sweaty bus waiting for it to leave. The place smelled like old cheese. Finally we took off, only to stop for gas ten feet away. That took another 15 minutes. Finally we got on the road and began to zip down out of the mountains over the torturous hairpin turns. The bus made one stop at which everyone peed and some women gave Kerry and me some weeds we were supposed to chew on, but since everyone had been peeing all over the place I didn't really want to. We also stopped at the official rest stop, of course. The trip was hot and seemed endless and someone puked under Aaron's feet. The only relief came when the ticket-taker on the bus wanted to borrow Kerry's Indigo Girls tape and suddenly we were rolling through the African mountains listening to the Indigo Girls.

When we finally arrived in Massawa, it was late afternoon and we were all tired. Colleen had left the dinghy at the dock and when we got to Redwings, we found the boat covered in dust from some windstorm. Basil and Sybil were aloof and definitely seemed a bit ticked off at us. We reached Colleen on the VHF and learned she was ashore with Raffi and Richard who had arrived on Malkat Singapore that morning. We all met up at the Eritrean Restaurant for dinner and had a heated debate about the merits of the sexual revolution, ERA, and traditional rolls for women in the Middle East (my favorite Middle Eastern "traditional rolls" are the little brown ones available here in Massawa at a price of 8 for 25 cents - Laura do you mean"roles" by any chance??? - AH). Then, we were off to a bar across from the bus stop, where Philippa and Lorraine caught up with us. When that place ran out of beer, we moved on to another spot with music. Philippa entertained us with some dancing. She was eagerly joined by Raffi for a few numbers. At first the locals seemed amused and then they just ignored the scene. More weird foreigners, I guess.

Next stop was the disco on the roof of the Hotel Torino in the middle of town. Philippa tried to get the 20 Nakfa entry fee reduced to 1 Nakfa each. No dice. Instead she got a lecture on how rich white people are. Aaron and Colleen decided at this point to go home, but Kerry, Philippa, Lorraine, Richard, Raffi and I ventured ahead, paying the money and winding our way uo the four flights of marble stairs to the disco ball, chairs, tables and bar overlooking the harbor. The night was nice and cool and we ordered up more beer. The DJ put on some Bob Marley so Philipa and I took to the dance floor. A very drunk Korean man soon joined us. He reeled about and shook his bootie and smiled like crazy. We had a few dances and after an hour or so, it became apparent that this man, who was with a group of Korean men, was really really really drunk. Then, as songs were changing over, he went for one of the three speakers, which stood high on a stand. He grabbed the stand as if to dance with it and stepped back. He and the speaker reeled and it came crashing down onto the dance floor and came unplugged. The music stopped. A few disco employees stepped forward in protest and the Korean man grabbed the speaker stand like a weapon and his Korean friends jumped in. There was something of a melee; not a brawl exactly, but a few punches were thrown, men called each other names and had to be pushed apart by their friends. The drunk man who started it all, kept lunging at people. Philippa in the meantime, kept yelling "Get over it! Bring back the music!" One of the Korean friends walked up to our table and screamed in Korean at her while holding a martial arts stance with his hands up. When he finished his unintelligible yelling, Kerry calmly said "What?" That set him off again into another tirade, of course. Meanwhile, the drunk man somehow rolled down the stairs. We're not sure if he fell or was pushed, but we suspect the locals are too good to have pushed him. But he left a nice trail of blood on the stairs and when I followed the events outside, I found him sitting in the dirt wiping his face. There was a bit more of a struggle, but finally his friends loaded him into a car and one man who had been quite reasonable went off with the police. Two Italians had appeared at the end and wanted to know what had happened so I told them. They looked quite surprised. "He is our boss and usually a total gentleman. We are all working on building a power plant outside of Massawa," said one.

So we danced the night away a bit longer. A very nice teenager showed me how to do a special Eritrean dance, which consisted of two-stepping while walking in a circle with about 10 other people. Once in a while, it didn't seem to matter when, one of us would turn in a circle. At the center of our orbit was a smiling man who clutched his stomach and stared at the disco ball, all in a world of his own.

We finally left at about 1:30 or so, just as the place was really filling up. Philippa and Kerry stopped for a dance in one other bar on the way home and I had to drag them out as Raffi and Richard had been at sea for three days and were quite dead exhausted. On the walk back Raffi got friendly with Philippa, who was a bit drunk, and gave her a smooch on the cheek. Scandalous!! Then she got mad at him because he refused to have us back to Malkat Singapore for a coffee and dance party.

29 March, Massawa, Eritrea

Laura - Spent much of the day doing work to prepare for departure. Discovered that we'd broken a batten in the sail when going through the straits. When it came to replacing the car on the main-sail, the replacement process went smoothly enough, but when it came to re-attaching the main to the cars, I couldn't find the bolts and other hardware that I had taken off and so carefully put in a plastic bag and put on the binnacle. The four of us searched high and low, all over the boat, but couldn't find them. Of course, this would happen to me. I seem to have a knack for losing and breaking things.

In the evening, we organized a dinner with La Scala, Malkat Singapore, Dracamaris, and Marbella. I was concerned that there were so many of us that we'd totally confuse the restaurant and never actually eat, but the place was quite competent and in the end we were all satiated. We and Malkat Singapore left soon after dinner to catch a movie on Raffi's VCR. On our way through town, back to the dinghy, Aaron found a teeny, tiny kitten. The little binker didn't even have his eyes open yet! After some debate with some locals about the kitten's mother, Aaron decided the best recourse was to take the kitten back to Redwings to rescue it. So, he stuck it in his shirt and we were off.

The dinghy ride was hectic since the harbor was choppy and there were six of us in the dinghy. We all got wet. Kerry and I did go over to Malkat Singapore to watch "Dead Presidents" with Raffi and Richard. Raffi, who complained that Stacy complained that he wore his bikini underwear around, took his shorts right off and treated us to his drawers for the evening. The movie was pretty violent and gory. Lots of people got shot and one head got cut off and some people wound up in jail. But it was great to see a movie and Raffi served up tea and cookies.

Aaron and Colleen stayed home nursing the kitten with a mix of warm milk and water served via syringe. Apparently more got on them than in the kitten, but enough made it into his tummy. Basil and Sybil apparently would not get near the new arrival and hissed at it. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

30 March, Massawa, Eritrea

Laura - Again, most of the day was dedicated to organizing to get on the road. We got jerry cans full of water and filled the tanks, finished replacing the car on the mainsail, cleaned, changed the filters on the water maker, and checked out. While waiting for the customs office to open, Kerry and I made one last attempt to call home. With the last of my money I bought a 50 Nakfa phone card at the Post Office and called my sister Amy's house in Washington DC. I explained quickly to my brother-in-law that I had two minutes and this is the Post Office phone number to call me back and please have my parents do so since I can't use their area code. Then the connection lapsed. We waited around for half an hour and nobody called. They must be away somewhere. Oh well. I tried.

Perhaps the biggest relief was that Aaron found a home for the kitten. He, Kerry and and I went ashore to do check-out and return beer bottles to a local bar (yes, we are desperate for cash) and he took a taxi ride to a local school, with the kitty in a cooler, and found an American school teacher who was willing to nurse the animal. Oh yes, back to two cats. I think the situation worked out well for everyone.

Met up with Mike and gave him a Redwings shirt, about which he seemed quite pleased. He is a good guy.

Kerry managed to continue her habit of snoozing in funny places. She went over to Malkat Singapore to read Raffi's guide book to Egypt and fell asleep. When Aaron and I went to collect her at 1 p.m., she appeared all disheveled and had hardly taken any notes. For those of you who know Raffi and may be thinking, hmm, just please note that Raffi and Richard had left that morning for Asmara.

31 March, Dafnien, Eritrea

Laura - Departed Massawa at about 9 a.m. after listening to the radio sked. Lee from Quest came by for a quick goodbye -- or a see you down the road. The winds were light and although they were out of the north, the seas were small and made for easy motoring. We had planned to stop at Shek El Abul, an island about 25 miles away, but when we got there at about 1400, we decided it was nice enough to press on. We talked to a Swedish boat a bit ahead of us that had just left the anchorage and we decided to follow them up to Dafnien, a small anchorage another 36 miles away. The wind and seas picked up a bit, but it was all quite manageable. We pulled into the anchorage at about 10 p.m. to join three other yachts, including a Spanish single-hander named Pedro on Fuker whom we had seen in the Maldives, and several fishing boats. Had the yachts not been there to guide us in we probably would not have attempted this anchorage in the dark. Even with a bit of moonlight, it was difficult to make out whether the white strip in front of us was beach or reef and our radar is no longer working (blown magnetron). We ended up dropping the anchor in 18 meters and having quite a decent night's sleep, except for the yackers on the VHF radio.

1 April, Dafnien Island, Eritrea

Aaron - "What a beautiful day" as Lee on Quest always says..... Although the wind is still fairly strong at 15-20 knots, it remains almost flat calm in the lee of Dafnien Island and the anchor has a great grip on the corally/sand bottom. We could continue to bash into it and make a few more miles, but what's the point? For us, the Red Sea and its bordering countries are a destination, and this is not just a passage. So many yachts are in a huge hurry to get to the Ed and avoid stopping in these "poor" places if it can be helped. Anyway, better to enjoy ourselves whenever the weather is not cooperating in port or at anchor and then go for it when the travelling is easier.

Dafnien Island is one of the dive spots recommended in our Red Sea Dive Spots book so lets go! Richard and Eva on Anahita, the Swedish boat that helped us in last night, are also keen to go diving and salivating at the fact that we have a compressor on board so they can get their tanks re-filled. The compressor will probably prove to be a great social meal ticket as we progress up the Red Sea. We are short on gasoline so they gave us 5 litters which is more than we needed to fill their tanks as well as ours.

Colleen and I stopped by to visit Pedro on Furka and he invited us aboard with enthusiasm to see how a single hander lives. What a great little boat! Only 28 feet, but the use of composite construction materials allowed the builders to make this boat light, yet roomy. Plenty of room for one, or even a couple. We were later to learn that we would be the last people to ever visit Furka before it sank....... (click here to get the scoop).

Dieter and Gabby on Pomocul, a German yacht whose owners we had met in Salalah, were also keen to explore the reef so we all trundled off in two dinghies to the north eastern side of the island. Colleen, Laura, Dieter and Gabby snorkeled while Kerry, I, Richard, and Eva did the dive. It was pretty good, but alas, we were so spoiled by the spectacular sites of the Maldives. We saw a good-sized white tip reef shark, a huge turtle, and the usual assortment of reef fishes. It was nice to leave the constant sound of the howling wind behind on the surface....

A lunch of yummy Swedish caviar and wasa bread crackers and hot drinks on Anaita hit the spot. For the first time since leaving Hong Kong, hot drinks and warm sweaters are often the way to go. It's warm in the day, but so dry and windy it still feels pretty cool and quite crisp in the evenings probably dropping to about 60 deg f.

After cleaning up the dive gear, I heard from some of the boats ahead that the going was pretty easy with only 5-10 knots of wind. We had just decided to make a break for it tonight when La Scala, which had holed up at Shek Al Abu the previous evening with Malcat Singapore and Quest, called in and reportedly the seas had steepened and they were getting bashed and so had decided to join us at Dafnien so we decided to stay the night and leave tomorrow with the rest of the boats if the weather was decent.

Everyone in the anchorage was invited to Pomocul for dinner and Gabby served up pumpkin soup and pizza. By the time we got back to the boat, La Scala was on the way in and they dropped the hook next to us. They had apparently had it pretty lumpy and Phillipa was sick so just as well we did not try to leave as it as still a steady 15-20 in the anchorage. Hopefully easier winds and seas will make it down to us tomorrow.

We we tried an April Fools, but it fell a bit flat. Colleen called La Scala and in all seriousness asked them if they wanted to join us for breakfast tomorrow on the island saying that there was a little shack-cafe operated by the fisherman's wives on the beach (this island is just a big sandy spit in the middle of nowhere). They started to go for it, but then remembered I had said that there were land mines on the island (someone got their foot blown off a few years ago) and called our bluff.....

2 April, Dafnien Island, Eritrea

Laura - Since we decided to stay another day, it was only natural that Kerry awoke with a hankering to snorkel. So, we geared up and I said "Do you think we have enough gas? Are you sure?" Kerry responded with an impatient "Yes. Yes." So we were off. We hit a couple spots and checked out the fishes. It was pretty nice under water, but we had to fight off the urge to go ashore. Land mines, ya know. We sat in the dinghy for a while soaking in the sun and watching a fishing boat, but then we to slammed by a wave and decided to head back. Half way there the engine puttered out and I started rowing while Kerry tilted the gas can around to send the last of the fumes through the line to the outboard. We revived her long enough to get us back to the boat without too much rowing.

Of course, as we pulled up the first thing Aaron said was "Okay, we're going." I'd heard that about five times in the last 24 hours so I wasn't too surprised. We showered and were off in about 20 minutes.

The overnight to Talla Talla Saghir was windy and a bit bumpy, but otherwise uneventful.

3 April, Talla Talla Saghir Island, Sudan

Aaron - Welcome to Sudan! All looks the same to me.... No one shot at us as we crossed the "border" at first light 10 miles off shore which was a relief. Sudan and Eritrea are not exactly on speaking terms at the moment with the Eritreans supposedly providing support for the various secessionist rebel groups along their maritime boarder. Also, we heard that the US, which considers Sudan to be a "terrorist state", has 3,000 troops stationed on the Eritrean side of the boarder. Who knows....

Anyway it was a fairly relaxing day and we made good progress motor sailing at 6-7 knots till we reached Talla Talla Saghir Island, which is about 50 miles from Suakin, at about 1430. Although traveling conditions were good, we were not going to make the treacherous entrance to Suakin before dark so we decided to stop here and try the diving, get a good night's sleep, and then leave early tomorrow and make Suakin with plenty of light.

The diving was good - interesting coral shapes and color, decent fish, three turtles - but still leaves me a bit nonplussed after the fantastic diving in the Maldives. While Kerry and I dove, Colleen and Laura snorkeled from the dinghy. Tragedy struck. One way or another the dingy anchor came untied while they were both in the water. Thank God Laura saw the dingy drifting away early with the anchor line trailing straight off the bow! She put her head down and swam like hell and was able to catch it before it got away leaving us in a real mess in the short term and dingyless in the long term. We were a good 300 meters off the beach when it "got away" and more than one mile away from Redwings.

Colleen marked the spot where the anchor was and was able to snorkel down and get it, but Laura was not able to reach her in time with the dingy before the anchor dragged her (Colleen) down again so she dropped it - never to be found again..... When Kerry and I surfaced, we could see them rowing the dingy to keep it in place.

Back to the boat, relax, dinner (pizza a la Laura), and early to bed. We will try to leave at 0400 tomorrow to make sure we have lots of light to navigate the reefs around Suakin.

4 April, Suakin, Sudan

Aaron - Up at 0430 and outta here by 0500 and crew all back down below catching ZZZZ while I finished off my watch. Good traveling with a bit of current behind us and only 15 knot winds (on the nose of course) and one meter seas - we are making 6-7 knots.

Our first high seas sailing vessel encounter of the trip. I was down doing the dishes and generally cleaning up popping my head out the hatch every 15 minuets of so to look for ships. Up I popped once and there, not 200 meters away, was a white sail boat coming from the East and likely to pass close by our stern. As they got closer, they waved and I was not sure if they were signaling for assistance, so I put the engine in neutral and called them on the radio. It was a German boat called Constellation and they were heading into an anchorage after getting bashed for a few days out in the middle - all was well aboard.

On the way in I heard a boat just 30 miles away come up on the radio very abruptly first giving his position and calling any station nearby. Another boat close to him answered and the caller quickly stated that he had just tried to pull into Trinkiat Harbor, which is about 50 miles on the Sudan side of the Eritrean boarder, and was being chased out by a very serious looking Sudanese gunboat. He indicated that they did not answer his radio calls and had the main gun trained on him as well as small arms and were approaching fast. He was admittedly pretty scared and eventually had to drop the radio and go up and do a "hands up" as they approached. When he came back on line (shaken but not stirred), he indicated they had done a lot of angry gesticulating and pointing out to sea, but nothing more and he was allowed to go on his merry way. Apparently, other boats have received the same treatment attempting to head into Trinkiat (which was at one time considered to be a good anchorage) as it is now some sort of outpost for the Sudanese navy.

The rest of the trip to Suakin was relatively fast and uneventful. Once we got by some of the reefs that extend up to 15 miles out from the coast South of Suakin, we were able to bear off and head West and finally got some good sailing in reaching under staysail and full main at 7-8 knots. We were unable to unfurl the genoa for some reason. A quick inspection revealed that the rope on the drum was not stuck (the most likely problem) and looking at the top of the stay there did not seem to be a tangle so I'm not sure what the problem is. The drum just seems stuck. Perhaps it was damaged somehow during our little "accident" back in Massawa.

It was a bit tough to sort out which markers were which leading into the reef-bounded channel, but we finally got oriented and charged in towards the port area. On the way in, we passed a very serious looking military installation with small howitzers visible and large manned machine gun pits with the goods pointed right at us. Seems just a little bit tense around here. Ahead of us a large white passenger ship blocked our view from the inner harbor. We wondered what passenger liner would be calling on Suakin, Sudan. We found out later it was a pilgrim ship that had brought local Sudanese Muslims to Mecca and Medina across the way in Saudi for the annual Haj. The Haj season was just winding up, which means a 5-6 day celebratory season equivalent to Christmas in Sudan starts the day after tomorrow, so we had better hope we can get checked in quickly!

On rounding the Haj ship, we saw what we had primarily come for: the ruins of old Suakin. Wow! Suakin was the last major slave trading port in the world (doing the dirty deed till 1956) and the old city center of this trade was located on a island that protrudes into the harbor. The coral block buildings were built right to the edge of the reef-island and the turquoise-blue water then drops off to 50 feet deep just meters from the outmost buildings. We passed these buildings not 50 feet away as we slid into the protected inner harbor where 17 other yachts were anchored!

Dracamaris is here and Bin came over and gave us the scoop. Seems like the immigration and customs process is pretty quick - key is to hire some guy named Mohmmad of course as the (required) agent. Of course, like everywhere else West of India, Mohammed is also the fuel guy. Bin indicated he had already spoken to Mohammed (Abu Mohammed actually is his name so I guess there is a slight original twist to his handle) concerning our arrival and indicated that he (Abu M) would come by later with the authorities to rubber stamp us.

Well, while we are waiting for the robed / uniformed / bearded entourage of bearuacrats to arrive, lets get some jobs done - bout time for an oil etc. Pop into the engine room, get ready to drain the oil.... what's this? Water is bubbling out of the vent on top of the transmission. Pull the dipstick and check the transmission fluid (ATF) level and: nothing but salt water! Great. Well at least I 99% fer sure fer sure know what the problem is: the @$%# ATF cooler which is identical to the oil cooler we blew on the way into Oman. The bad news is 1) I have no idea how long I have been using salt water as transmission fluid (could be days....) and 2) I don't have another spare. Drain the transmission - all water and not even a bitty bit of fluid. It must have been sucked out by the (assumed) hole in the cooler a while ago.... not good. We are lucky to have got in here and anchored! With our luck the transmission could easily have packed up between the reefs in the middle of the tidal-ripped-reef-encrusted-large-ship-infested channel!

I filled the transmission with my "spare" fluid - which is only enough for one change, and got to work removing the cooler. Blocking one end and blowing on the other revealed that in fact there does seem to be a hole inside. I hope we can get this baby patched up around here. One good thing about these third world countries is that people are used to fixing old machinery and keeping it running, and one of the most common pieces of equipment (weather it be to power trucks, boats, wells, generators) are big, simple, 4-cylinder diesel engines like ours.

Abu Mohammed and gang finally came by and took our money and passports and gave us shore passes which would also allow us to visit Port Sudan. Abu M indicated that he had arranged a bus to take 10 yachties to Port Sudan tomorrow and would we like to join at the low low price of 7 bucks a head. Yeah ok. Can you help me get this cooler fixed? But of course.....

5 April, Suakin, Sudan

Colleen - We awoke early for our trip to Port Sudan. Joining on the bus, were Elizabeth and Bin from Dracamaris, Louise from Janner, and Paul and Tina from Asteroid. We traveled in the back of a "caged" truck that most closely resembled the vehicle the children were kidnapped in the film "Chitti Chitti, Bang Bang". We passed through miles of desert on either side, with occasional Bedouin tent gatherings.

Our first stop in Port Sudan was the bank, to change money. Without fail, everyone seemed to receive the incorrect amount of local currency back from the tellers. Luckily the variance was within a dollar, so no one complained. We wandered the streets of the market, which was filled with spice sellers, food venders and shops of all sorts. The predominant mode of transportation downtown seemed to be donkey-led carts. I was dying to take photos, but the Sudanese are violently against being filmed. I bought a few provisions while there, the girls looked for the telecommunications center to call the states. As it happened all international phone connections were down for a few days in Port Sudan.

We all rendezvoused at the Palace Hotel Restaurant, for a well-needed off-boat meal. Foul and goat cheese on Sudanese pita bread surely made my day. I had seconds, and followed with a glass of fresh mango, then fresh guava juice. Aaron and Abu Mohammed had done quite well to fill our propane tanks, and repair the broken cooler.

Back to Suakin. The girls walked around town while Aaron refit the cooler, and I went over to visit newly-arrived La Scala. That evening our boat was invited over to Dracamaris for a card game of "Mission". For chips we used hundreds of Australian pennies, which we were not allowed to take home at the conclusion of the game. Visiting Dracamaris is an experience in itself. She is a two-story, 60 foot motor yacht. It was like being in a house.

Midway through the game word came through on the VHF that Raffi was close to the harbor entrance and needed to be guided in in the dark. Bin, Aaron and Laura set off in Dracamaris' high power dinghy (which one can actually water ski off the back of it goes so fast). Elizabeth and I tried to relay on the radio and lend a hand, but Kerry just kept insisting we continue with the cards. Her gambling compulsion, last witnessed at the Hong Kong race track, was back again. We were to learn that the harbor was a military no-go zone after dark. The authorities, many of whom were carrying machine guns, were a bit upset and pulled Raffi and Bin's dinghy over to a dimly-lit cement dock and issued a stiff reprimand and told us to warn other yachts not to come in at night. Kerry could care less, begging for us to continue still.

Around midnight, it all seemed to have sorted itself out, and the crew from Malkat Singapore joined us for a snack. They were very hyped up and glad to be anchored after some difficult nights at sea.

Kerry - Yes, it is true that I wanted the games to continue. However, this was only because there was nothing more we could do while aboard Dracamaris. Though the interaction between the military boats and our friends was of slight interest, I had to recoup my losses from earlier in the evening, which was proving difficult to do with Colleen and Elizabeth jumping up and down to listen to the radio and stare into the darkness with binoculars. I had one last round at the end, double or nothing, with Colleen. She did end up with the greatest piles of the no longer circulating Australian pennies - no wonder she wanted to stop earlier in the night! Malkat Singapore's harbor entrance provided a perfect cover for her feigned disinterest in the game.

Aaron - Apart from the drama of literally being in the Sudanese Army's gunsites while trying to guide Malcat Singapore in through the reefs, another more serious drama had been unfolding south of us over the past several days. After leaving Dafnien Island a few hours before we did several days ago, no one had heard Pedro on Furka come up on the radio. A single hander, he was usually quite consensus about maintaining contact with other yachts. The last thing any one had heard from him was that he was heading towards Khor Narawat (in Sudan on the West side of the Red Sea - at dinner on Pomocul several days ago he had indicated to us that he was heading to Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, on the Eastern shore). In addition, he apparently indicated in his last radio transmission that he was "sick" / not feeling well. Apparently he had contacted a severe case of cerebral malaria in Malaysia and was still occasionally having relapses.

No one in Khor Narawat had seen him. The word went up and down the stretch of Red Sea where he was likely to be but no one had any more news on Furka. Bin of Dracamaris got the word out to the local military but they had heard nothing - and claimed that when yachts get into trouble on the coast they are usually the first to hear about it from the local fisherman etc. Finally, today, Lee on Quest, who was approaching the Khor Narawat area and had been helping run the radio net search for information on Furka, passed on the good news that Pedro was fine.... but the bad news was that he had lost Furka... Apparently, due to his sickness, he had fallen asleep and had neglected to make a required course change and awoke only when the boat slammed full speed into a reef some 15 - 20 miles south of the entrance to Khor Narawat. The rudder and prop were ripped clean off and water gushed in fast. The thin-skinned boat was also being bashed mercilessly against the reef by the strong swell. All Pedro had time to due in his feverish haze was grab his passport, ships papers, wallet, and the dingy with motor and gas can. He then dingied towards land and eventually washed up at some very remote military outpost. Its not yet clear what then happened exactly, but the soldiers apparently gave him food, water, and fuel and he then set off in his dingy and traveled the 20 miles to Khor Narawatt where he knew people would be looking for him. He is ok, but the boat is a total loss. A good reminder that this is not just a game - boats actually do sink!

6 April, Suakin, Sudan

Colleen - Kerry, Laura and I set out early for provisioning in the town market. Next to Ulaguma, Maldives, this was by far our most exotic provisioning expedition. Firstly, Suakin is so cool looking, its hard to describe. Houses made of coral and white wash, look hundreds of years old. No vehicles. The market is a wide dusty expanse of tents in a desert. We were met by two 12 year old boys, Cory and his friend. They spent their days helping out yachties. Cory speaks very good English (unusual in the town) and his friend is both deaf and mute. They became our self-appointed shopping guides. Despite his disabilities, the deaf boy was constantly getting involved and helpful. I would sign language how much a vender wanted for say a kilo of oranges, and he would make a nasty face indicating the price was out of line. We went from stall to stall collecting what we could find. The big treat was fermented local goat cheese. After a few hours we headed back to the dingy laden with goodies.

We bought pita bread for Malkat Singapore, guessing without a functioning dingy and not checked in they wouldn't be able to go ashore. After visiting them to drop the bread we hooked up with Tina and Paul of Asteroid. Somehow we were sidetracked to go visit with Marbella. It was a little overwhelming to do so much socializing at once. A plan was hatched along the way for all the boats to meet after sundown in the ruins with cocktails. It was illegal to go in without paying the exorbitant 10$ fee to some flunky at the gate.The Sudanese boy we went shopping with, Cory had suggested this charge a national outrage, and instructed us to just dingy over by ourselves to avoid paying a charge that was only for yachties anyway. So we figured this was the best way to see the ruins, in private, under the moonlight,for free, and with libations.

The rest of the afternoon was filled making water runs, dingying the jury cans to shore, filling them with water, then dumping them in our tank. On the last run Aaron and I stayed in and walked around the town some more. We did Malkat Singapore's shopping for them, and found Cory and his friend to give the tee shirts and gum in thanks for the help with provisioning.

The ruins were lovely that evening. We all bravely climbed a decrepit watch tower that looked out across the ruins and the harbor. After a few hours of wandering and sipping, we made it back to Malkat Singapore. Raffi decided at 11pm to host another Mediterranean feast; foul, humus, baba ganoush, salad, etc.. We were all pretty tired, but happy for the food when we finally got it. Laura was sent back to our boat with instructions on how to roast the eggplant, to speed up the processes, because Raffi's stove was over crowded. While on Redwings we radioed over to her and asked her to also boil eggs for the foul. She shamed our boat in front of the whole anchorage on the radio by calling back and actually asking how one boils an egg....

Tina of Asteroid did most of the talking while the rest of us sleepily plowed through our food near midnight. She captivated us with stories of being a hired crew in the Caribbean. She told tales of serious sexual harassment on boats from skippers. We all felt very sympathetic. We were to find later, after spending three days with her in Luxor Egypt, that somehow, sexual harassment very obviously follows this woman wherever she goes.

7 April, mid-day position: 19 deg 14 min N, 37 deg 22 min E

Aaron - Abu Mohammed came by right on time at 0830 with our passports and and a bill for his services (fuel, agency, transport to Port Sudan etc). He really did a great job and was very reliable. Yesterday, today, and the next few days mark a big Muslim holiday, but he recognizes this as the high season for yachts and worked hard for all of us even though everyone else in the country was relaxing or whooping it up.

Hey, we are ready to go and the weather looks good - lets go. Kerry went in to buy some bread while we finished getting the boat ready and we motored out of the anchorage at 1000 waving good bye to Malkat Singapore and La Scala. Marbella had just left ahead of us and was probably about one mile down the track while Asteroid left a few hours ago.

The wind remained at only 10-15 all day (although right on the nose so we ended up motoring as we had reefs on both sides and would have gone no where tacking back and forth - we've plenty of fuel anyway) and the seas less than a meter so when we reached Port Sudan, we decided to keep going. If the traveling remains this easy, perhaps we will keep going all the way to Egypt.

Kerry pulled in a tuna today and I cooked it for dinner. Nice to have fresh fish again!

8 April, Shambaya Reef, Sudan

Colleen - We pulled into Shambaya Reef around noon. We were adequately challenged trying to find the correct beacon that led to a tiny inlet of deeper water running between two reefs. There was only a miniscule bit of land, perhaps a half acre of sandbar on one side. There was a large diveboat also anchored in this reef. Laura felt ill, but Kerry and Aaron were eager to get out diving. I came along to watch the dingy and try a bit of snorkeling. We tied the dingy to the beacon and the two went over the side. Kerry and Aaron report seeing the biggest shark they've ever seen, a silver tipped. It was a beautiful wall dive, but they were on the wrong side for late in the day sun, so it was dark. Aaron felt as though he was in a fish store, swimming with guppies and goldfish all around. By the time they made it back, I wasn't too eager to go snorkeling. It was freezing, even with my wet suit, the shark reportedly seen right next to the boat, and a sea of jellyfish put me off. Regardless, a swam around for 20 minutes or so to have a look. We returned to Redwings happily greeted by freshly baked oatmeal cookies and hot chocolate..

Listening to the radio that afternoon, we suddenly heard one side of a conversation La Scala was having with another boat. We were soon to learn the other boat was Malkat Singapore, they went up on a reef, and in a panic, Raffi put out a "pan,pan" call, an emergency distress code, one down from mayday. Apparently he was not taking on water, and after the initial scare, they managed to back off the reef. While still on the reef a Sudanese gun boat came out after him calling for him to vacate the area as it was a designated military no-go zone. He tried to explain he was stuck on the reef, but they didn't seem impressed claiming he shouldn't have been there in the first place.

I finished the day by making a Mediterranean dinner of foul, humus, and Israeli salad.

9 April, Khor Shin Ab, Sudan

Aaron - We left Shambaya reef on time at 0515 just as the sun was rising. Perfect conditions for making some miles! Light winds and a flat sea. Although it was a bit tough to see the coral with the sun in our eyes as we went East out the channel, we had no problems as the entrance markers were clearly visible and we knew from yesterday that from where we were anchored it was plenty deep all the way to the outlet.

We pushed on to Khor Shin Ab which is about 40 miles up the track and is described in the pilot and various cruising letters we have read as a "must stop". A "khor" is a large natural inlet into the mainland which typically possesses a deep navigable channel through the fringing reef. There are many khors along the Sudanese and Egyptian coasts and they are generally great anchorages. However, finding the entry point can be difficult as they generally are not marked and from a distance, the gap is often not marked. Therefore, it is necessary to approach the reefs which extend all along the shoreline, look for the gap, and then go for it. As being able to see the reefs is the key to staying off them, it is really only possible to get into these anchorages before 1400 - after that the sun is in your eyes and its impossible to see the reefs and accurately gauge the depth of the water.

Given the good conditions, we were able to motorsail through various reef passages along the coast and made good time reaching Khor Shin Ab at around 1330. I am really glad we are keeping our inshore traveling to daylight hours. The position of charted reefs and rocks were often as much as one mile off actual recorded positions according to our GPS - which is accurate to about 100 feet.

Khor Shin Ab starts out at about 100 meters wide and twists and turns inland for two miles and then opens up to a bay of about one mile in diameter which is surrounded by desert and mountains. Wow is all I can say. The turquoise blue water marked a striking contrast against the desert sand and mountains and deep blue sky. Flat calm in the anchorage with coral reefs visible fringing the entire shoreline. There were several other yachts in the anchorage - none of whom we had seen or heard of before. Marbella followed us in by about 1/2 hour and dropped the pick next to us. Seems like they have been following us all the way since we first met them at the Laguna anchorage in the Maldives!

Kerry noticed that there was a rip in the staysail as she was packing it away so I set to work repairing it. I also started on fabricating a wooden wedge to fit under the bow roller to reduce its movement and hopefully maintain the strength of the whole shebang - which included the attachment point for the forestay. Its been working up and down a bit since out accident and although it appears solid where the forestay attaches, we obviously can't take any chances. It would be pretty inconvenient to lose the rig at this stage in the game!

Colleen and Laura went ashore to walk around with the crew of Marbella while "flipper" (a.k.a. Kerry Dinneen) donned mask and snorkel and drifted around over the reefs for what seemed like hours. She was hunting for shells of course and when she emerged, she was dismayed to learn that all the shells were on land this time as the hills all around the khor are actually ancient reef beds laden with fossils and shells.

Marbella invited us over for drinks, but I was beat and felt like taking it easy and stayed "home". Colleen and Laura went while Kerry did her dinner duty. Colleen and Laura gave a "favorable" report on the entertainment level, and Kerry soon followed. The discussion must have fallen to provision levels at some point cause Colleen came back and made off with 20 cans of tuna (which we are extremely long of) and came back with flour (which we are short of), yeast, and various junk including Butterscotch Jell-O Brand Pudding, and one precious liter of ATF fluid. Not enough for a complete change, but at least I can bolster the quality of what is in there (which is still "milky" indicating we have not yet got all of the water out - hopefully we will be ok till Safaga and no permanent damage has been done by the ingress of salt water).

10 April, Leaving Khor Shin Ab, Sudan

Aaron - Up at 0700 to feed the screaming cats (as opposed to screaming brats) and to listen to the weather forecast and morning radio sked. Some American guy on a boat called "Atoll" which participates in the net seems to get the most reliable forecasts available via satellite and some sort of computer program. He reads these forecasts out for the benefit of the rest of the fleet.

Well good news today! It seems like the rumored weather change / calms / intermittent southerlies are really coming. The forecast is calling for 2-3 days of calm - especially in our 20 deg North to 24 deg North area - for the next several days. Well for once the forecast jives with reality: we have only 3 knots of wind in the anchorage. Other boats 50-100 miles to either side of us also reported light winds. Finally we should be able to make some good northerly progress as the seas will flatten. We should still be able to sail half the time as during the day there will likely be a 10-15 knot onshore breeze as the land heats up and sucks the cool air off the sea. At night, we will be able to motor quickly. All we really need is 3-4 good traveling days and we can make it to Safaga, Egypt (near the tombs in Luxor) which is near the start of the Gulf of Suez.

So even though there is a lot to do and see here in Khor Shin Ab, we decided to leave this afternoon. But not before attacking some jobs, hiking, and snorkeling. I finished off the bow roller project and took a crack at fixing the roller furler. The drum seems to be bent which does not allow it to revolve and I could not get straighten enough or remove it easily. With the forestay attachment point suspect (due to the weakened bow roller), it probably makes sense not to use the genoa anyway - doubly so if we can't roll it up easily, so we removed the sail and will go with just main and staysail for the remainder of the trip. Fine for motorsailing or beating to windward in lots of wind anyway.

Kerry was off snorkeling quite early and was gone for hours. She came back with reports of seeing lot of good stuff including a huge eel which looked to be about 5-6 feet long and as thick as a football! We have not heard of any eel that gets this big so perhaps it was the Khor Shin Ab Monster.....

By the time we got hiking, it was a bit late and we only were out there for a few hours. But wow, what a different place! The landscape looked like that of Mars or something - red dusty hills, long-vacant stream beds, volcanic rock - but there were bits of coral and shell scattered everywhere. Must have been under water once. Colleen and Kerry did their usual collecting thing - now in addition to the coral Kerry has lashed to the lifelines following her snorkel yesterday, Colleen has about 30 specimens from the hike spread over the aft coach house roof drying after a cleaning.

To cool off, we swam out to the snorkeling grounds Kerry explored yesterday and sure enough, they were pretty fantastic. Calm water, no current, great viz, and a coral wall that descended from 6 feet to about 60 feet made for great snorkeling. Diving would probably have been even better, but we were too busy to get organized. One could easily spend a week diving on this Khor alone.

The big excitement of the day occurred just as we were leaving the Khor though the narrow entrance. All of a sudden the boat lost power, the engine started making a "funny noise", and the boat began to vibrate. I surmised (and hoped) that we had something around the prop but there was nothing to do but keep heading out through the passage or we would be dashed up on the reef. We slowed to 2 knots and eventually made it clear of the entrance and surrounding reefs and got the main up - but the boat and engine still felt very wrong. Colleen brought her up into the wind and I jumped over the side with my mask and snorkel. Sure enough a 50 pound sack of something bag was wrapped firmly around the prop and shaft. I was able to cut it off pretty quickly and we again got under way. I was happy because if the symptoms we had were a result of anything else, it would have been pretty serious.

Kerry - I would have to say that this was the best snorkeling (as well as potential dive-site) since the Maldives. It really wasn't necessary to dive here as you can swim around the edge of the entire reef of the khor with almost perfect visibility at least 50-60 feet down. The diving probably would be great though as you head out towards the channel into deeper waters. I did see a gigantic eel, which was more like 20-30 feet long, sliding along the ocean floor about 20 feet below me. I have never seen anything like it before, and was paralyzed as I watched it, hoping it wouldn't glance up at me. It wasn't only the length, but the width as well which was intimidating. I have still only used my dive knife to poke around shells and dead pieces of coral on the floor here and there, but I had it drawn for the eel nonetheless, which would probably only have given him an irritating scratch at best if it did attack me. Of course, no one believed me, and the jokes starting rolling in; prehistoric eel sighting, the Red Sea Lochness, etc. However, I did later learn from Marbella that what I saw was indigenous to the area, though it was probably a sea snake, not an eel. Apparently, they aren't really that aggressive, but very curious, and will come up and look you in the face - whereupon Marbella says it is best not to show any fear, however one does that.

The combination of the colors of the many different kinds of coral and fish were really amazing. The coral is the big difference between the Red Sea and the Maldives - the Maldives were beautiful and had a greater abundance of fish and exciting spots - but the ocean beds here are beautiful in and of themselves. I made myself memorize an exact spot far from Redwings where schools of large angelfish were cascading down the reef, so that I could persuade the rest of our crew to follow me there later. It was a place that would have been a shame to miss - as I am certain the rest of the khor was as well but you can only get so many hours of snorkeling in a day!

11 April, mid-day position: 23 deg N, 36 deg 45 min E

Aaron - Flat calm. No wind. Motor, motor, motor..... Hey we passed 22 Degrees North - the latitude of Hong Kong! This is the first time during the entire trip that I can recall a full 24 hour period with virtually no wind. It is especially strange here in the Red Sea where it has generally been tough to make progress. For once, the weather forecasts are accurate! We are moving up the chart at a relatively rapid rate now and made 125 miles good during the last 24 hours. That is not a huge number, but we are just letting the engine tick over at 1,200 revs and only making 5 knots or so as we need to stretch our fuel to reach Safaga - the first main port of entry to Egypt. At this rate, we should be in there in two days with a bit of fuel to spare. If we end up having sufficient fuel, and especially if it looks like we will approach Safaga after dark, we may push on to Hurghada which is 35 miles up the coast and the last port before the final stretch up the Gulf of Suez - hey we are really going to make it!

12 April, mid-day position: 23 deg N, 36 deg 45 min E

Aaron - Flat calm. Played Hearts on deck for the first time in ages.

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