Riding the Waves To Walvis Bay

We made a last-minute decision not to leave the African continent just yet. A good friend in Walvis Bay was rather insistent that we pay a visit, and who are we to resist a little adventure? So after clearing customs and immigration we were all set for the journey

The morning greeted us with a mild 15-know breeze. By 9am, we were off-untying from the mooring ball and setting a course for Walvis Bay. The first few hours were a little rocky, but the speed made up for it. Before long, we were flying along at over 12 knows with just the Genoa out. It felt like being strapped into a racing car, the ocean our endless track.

Conditions smoother out as the day went on. We held a heading of 358 degrees with an apparent wind of 18.5 knots from the SSW, keeping a solid 6,5 - 7 knots of speed. Spirits were high-even better, everyone seemed to have shaken off their sea legs and left seasickness behind.

Nightfall brought a twist. After a few calm hours, both the wind and the swell picked up. We found ourselves surfing down waves, our speed surging once again. But the real drama struck when a rogue wave crashed over the aft saloon. Despite the enclosure being zipped up, the wave gushed in, drenching everything. It was the first time I truly felt that gut-punch fear while sailing - woken from a deep sleep to the thud of water and chaos. Luckily, it was fleeting, and the moonlit sea offered a strange, beautiful calm in the aftermath. Sailing the African coast is not for the faint-heared, that is for sure.

Morning brought clean-up and surprise - tiny shrimps scattered across the deck, hitchhikers from our unexpectedd midnight visitor. 

The day turned mellow. We hoisted Mr. Oxley (our kite sail), which was perfect given the light 6-knots wind. Still, we managed an average speed of 5-6 knots, thanks to a favorable current as well. There is something magical about sailing with the wind alone, the absence of engines bringing a peaceful silence. The boat glided smoother, the ocean a steady companion.

Feeling a bit worn out, I snuck away for an afternoon nap. The boat was tidy, the crew fed - a nap earned. But my peace was short-lived. Stomping and shouts echoed from the aft deck. Ignoring it did not work for long. "Babes, Babes, Come See" curiosity won, and i headed up. There it was - Eric had landed our first fish! Not with a rod, but with a bungee cord, no less. Intle Breeze was no longer a fishing virgin, and we had ourselves a beautiful 7kg yellowtail.

24/02/2024

The night was calm, a welcome contrast. The sea felt as exhausted as we did. We kept the kite up until 00:30, then took it down as we approached Walvis Bay Harbour. Despite the low wind we made good time

By 1:08am, after 220 nautical miles, we decided to head straight into the marina instead of waiting for daylight. Exhaustion outweighed caution. Life jackets on, we prepped fenders and lines for an easy tie-up. But of course, "easy" was not in the cards.

Eric says he is seeing something on his radar, and we up front are looking and out of nowhere ghost ships appeared. Fishing vessels and cruisers, completely unmarked and unlit, lurking in the darkness. We scrambled for torches, becoming four pairs of eyes scanning for threats. Then, as if from a sailor's nightmare, a half sunken boat loomed silently bobbing like a shadow. No lights. No warnings. Just there.

We finally thought we were safe, ready to dock and crash into bed. But fate was not done with us yet. Eric whispered through my headset "We're not moving. We're on ground." Cue nervous laughter and wide eyes. A local, living aboard one of those ghostly vessels, motored over in his dinghy offering directions. Let us just say his advice was ... questionable.

Engines roaring, Eric retracted the man's path. After 30 intense minutes of manoeuvring,  we managed to free ourselves from the sandbank's grip. Our engines deserved medals, but we settled for a bottle of wine. The rest of the crew crashed, but Eric and I stayed up until 5:30am,  adrenaline fuelled and a little in awe of the night's madness.


Today is for taking it slow. Cleaning can wait until tomorrow. For now, it's about soaking in the calm and celebrating our safe arrival. 

Happy Saturday from Walvis Bay!