February 16, 2010 - Saldanha Bay, South Africa

Sharing an anchorage with a De Beers diamond mining ship

When I wrote that "there was no such thing as gunkholing" in South Africa, apparently I was wrong. That's exactly what we've been doing these past few days. From Simonstown we sailed around Cape Point to Dassen Island. We departed Dassen the following afternoon, setting off on the 1665 mile, two week long trip to St. Helena. Instead, we find ourselves in Saldanha Bay, anchored off the yacht club, waiting for wind.

We always find it useful to do a short hop before setting out on a long voyage, particularly after we've been sitting in one place for a long time, or if we've made substantial repairs or alterations to Mata'irea. When we left Simonstown, we weren't quite ready to go to sea for two weeks. So after spending Sunday sailing from Simonstown to Dassen, we both had a slew of things to do to keep us busy on Monday morning. While I made some more passage food, Sten worked up on deck, where the smell of frying fish coming from the commercial fishing boats anchored nearby was almost enough to get him to inflate the dinghy to paddle over and beg for a bite.

Fishing boats anchored in House Bay, Dassen Island

By early afternoon, we were ready to raise the anchor and head Northwest towards St. Helena. On departure, we had seals keeping us company and several Southern Right whales spouting close by. We put everything up and were soon making a decent 6 knots. But the wind had other plans for us. First it clocked around to the west, earlier than forecast, and before we could clear the headlands of Cape Columbine. And then it died. With a sizeable swell running and not enough wind to keep our sails full in that kind of sea state, we were looking at a long and unpleasant night of trying to beat our way around the Cape. The protected harbor of Saldanha Bay was just too attractive an alternative to pass up. So we turned east and sailed past the breakwall and into the harbor just as the sun was setting.

The day wasn't much of a success. We only managed to cover a whole whopping 21 miles of the 1665 to St. Helena. But at least we found a calm, protected anchorage in which to spend the night.

Overnight the wind continued to blow lightly out of the north. And then it started raining. As we lay in our warm, dry bed this morning, looking up at the rain drops splashing off the hatch overhead, we knew we'd made the right call. The forecast this morning confirms our decision to wait for more consistent wind. By hanging out here until tomorrow, we should be set up for a good start on the run north.

Who's ready to get back to the tropics?

February 14, 2010 - Dassen Island, South Africa

We are cleared out of the country, provisioned, and ready (as we'll ever be) for the (possibly) two month long run up the South Atlantic, across the Equator, and back to the Caribbean. But we had one obstacle to clear first. The Cape of Storms.

Ever since we arrived in Simonstown five weeks ago, I've been worried about getting around Cape Point, aka the Cape of Good Hope, aka the Cape of Storms. When the wind blows here it can be seriously unpleasant. So we wanted a light wind day to make our rounding. The weather forecast was calling for a calm morning on Sunday, so we planned to depart then. However, the wind honked all night Saturday night into Sunday morning. I tossed and turned all night, worried about the rounding. At one point Sten woke up, listened to it, and figured we weren't going anywhere in the morning.

Before dawn I got up, made some coffee, and looked at the forecast, which unfortunately showed that the next good opportunity for leaving Simonstown wouldn't be until Wednesday. So we decided we had better go. And then Vixen left. And we really felt like we'd be wimping out if we stayed. So we popped some Stugeron and Sten unplugged us from shorepower. Bob and Glenda from Nero came down to say goodbye and help us cast off.

15 knots isn't a lot of wind, but when it is right on the nose and you are motoring directly into it, it makes for some unpleasant going. I didn't chunder, but it was a near thing. And actually, it was a glorious day for rounding Cape Point, or so I surmised each time I lifted my head from my prone position in the cockpit. Sten see plenty of tourists up by the lighthouse and could imagine all the photos being taken of our rounding of the Cape of Good Hope. Here is one that Sten took from a slightly different vantage point.

Good Hope

As we left the cozy confines of False Bay and approached the Cape the water temperature plummeted, dragging down the air temperature with it. On the western side of the Cape, we caught up with Vixen. We hope to see them again in St. Helena in a few weeks.

s/v Vixen - very appropriately canvased for Valentines Day

The rest of the afternoon was spent jibing back and forth, sailing dead downwind in a rolling swell as we made our way towards Dassen Island. Along the way, we picked up a hitchhiker. A cormorant insisted upon hitching a ride with us. Knowing what a mess his poo would make of Mata'irea's decks, we chased him off five times, but he kept coming back. The sixth time he approached the boat, he flew right into the side stays. Figuring that he was too dumb or tired to survive the night on his own, we took pity on him and let him tag along with us to Dassen Island.

Table Mountain recedes in the distance

All afternoon we enjoyed at least a half-knot of current assistance from the Benguela Current, which pulls icy cold Antarctic waters up along the West coast of Africa. We were hoping to reach the protected anchorage on the north end of the island shortly after sundown. But the wind died down in the late afternoon, and it took us until almost 11pm to reach Dassen.

One of many playful pods of seals that kept us entertained throughout the day

After dark we were treated to a spectacular display of phosphorescent comets created by seals swimming under and around Mata'irea. With no moon and limited light from the shore to guide us, we relied heavily upon the chartplotter radar overlay function to find a safe place to anchor among the fleet of commercial fishing boats sheltered behind the island. Once the anchor was down, we treated ourselves to some pink bubbles to celebrate Valentines Day.

February 13, 2010 - Simonstown, South Africa

These past two weeks since our friends left we have been busy with the business of getting ready to go to sea. We have spent the days provisioning, doing boat work, and going back and forth with Quantum Sails about repairs to our mainsail, dodger and bimini. We've also found time for a bit of touring and some good eats.

On Saturday morning, two weeks ago, after we dropped Amy and Kate off at the airport, we headed on into Cape Town to visit the Neighborgoods Market, a food and design market that is held every Saturday morning at the old Biscuit Mill in Woodstock. Looking around at all the tempting baked goods, I was so bummed that I was still stuffed from the bagel I'd scarfed down for breakfast. Somehow, Sten managed to find room for a perfectly poached egg on a potato pancake smothered with hollandaise. Then we came back to the boat and I slept for four hours. For the past few weeks, as we toured around, I'd ignored the cold that was still dragging me down, and finally I just had to give in to it. The following day was also spent in recovery mode.

After weeks of hemming and hawing we finally bit the bullet and ordered a stackpack, which is basically a mainsail cover, but much easier to use. Hopefully, by making it easier to stow and unstow the mainsail, the stackpack will encourage us to use the main more while dayhopping the Caribbean or doing daysails out of NPT. Anyway, that's the idea. In six months we'll report back on how it works out for us.

Before we delivered our old canvas to Quantum for repairs, we spent half a day cleaning it so that the dirt stuck to it didn't gum up their machines. We were amazed by how a South African cleaning product called Blade took the Richards Bay coal dust out of our Stamoid. We were afraid that it would melt the cloth, but it seemed not to harm it and our canvas is once again white. The difference is really remarkable.

The following day we took the dodger and bimini in to Quantum. Since we were driving into Cape Town, we invited Bob and Glenda off of Nero and Jonas from Pelican to join us. With five yachties in the car, it was inevitable that we would wind up driving around the industrial section of town, hunting down the various boat bits we all needed.

We eventually broke free of the industrial area and found our way into downtown Cape Town, where we made a bee line for the bakery and take out window at Jardine, one of the best restaurants in town. We ordered up some sandwiches and found a seat at one of the picnic tables outside. Upon my first bite I couldn't help but exclaim "Hell yeah." It was that good.

After lunch, we made our way to the District Six Museum, which documents the effect of removals undertaken pursuant to the Group Areas Act in the District Six neighborhood during Apartheid. The heart wrenching displays chronicled the lives of the displaced and left us with a better understanding of the terrible effects of Apartheid. Afterwards, we wandered around Long Street. Actually, Glenda and I wandered. Bob and Sten quickly found some seats at Bob's namesake tavern and ordered a beer.

While Glenda and I were browsing in a shop, the shop girl realized that her purse had just been stolen. It seems unbelievable, but we have literally been exposed to more crime in the past three months in South Africa than our entire lives leading up to this point.

We decided to return to Simonstown via Chapmans Peak Drive, to take in the stunning views one more time. Along the way we stopped at a favorite lookout point, only to find a makeshift memorial for a man who had been blown off the ledge a few days before. The Cape is seriously a hazardous place for tourists. First Leroy, a Zimbabwean guy gets eaten by a shark, then a few weeks later some other poor guy gets blown off a cliff.

The next day, Sten, who was sick and tired of listening to me hack up my lungs, declared that he wasn't going anywhere until I got better. So I finally made a doctor's appointment. After a consultation we were both relieved to find out that I didn't have TB or the pig flu. And after a few more days of codeine-laced cough syrup and some nasal spray, I was right as rain.

Last Saturday we decided to drive up to Stellenbosch to visit one of the two weekly farmers markets held there. While in town we decided to go in search of some more wine for the bilge. Really, we should have known better than to head out to the winelands on a weekend. But it was a beautiful day spent in beautiful surroundings.

This past week I was missing having Kate and Amy around. After some arm twisting I convinced Sten to come with me to Kalk Bay for a Girls Day Out, without the girls. We wandered around the small coastal town, poking in galleries and shops. He made a valiant effort, but try as he might after an hour or so he resorted to finding the nearest seat in each successive shop we visited. He did get an almond croissant and half a latte out of the deal, so it wasn't a complete waste of an afternoon for him.

The day after our foray to Kalk Bay, we had to go into Cape Town to take our dodger back to Quantum for some additional repairs. Sten also decided to find a place to repair the windlass motor. So we made a day of it. We went to Signal Hill to get our eardrums blasted by the cannon that is fired every day at noon. Then we had some traditional Cape Malay dishes for lunch at the Noon Gun Tea Room and wound up the afternoon at the V&A Waterfront.

We spent most of the following day, which was unseasonably rainy and gray, working on the boat. Mid-afternoon we decided to celebrate Valentines early and so we booked a table for that evening at the Food Barn in Noordhoek. After all our discussions with Amy and Kate about what we might do after this trip, we've both been mulling things over. And so, over rack of lamb and cape salmon, paired with carafes of local wine, we hashed out a tentative plan. But our plans seem to change daily, so we'll wait a while before making any proclamations here.

On Thursday, after our last provisioning trip, we drove back out to the nature reserve at Cape Point. We enjoyed having one last glimpse of bucks and ostriches grazing in the fynbos. The swell was pumping, and it was exciting to see it rolling in along the west coast. But we're hoping for much calmer conditions when we round the Cape tomorrow.

Friday was the last day of our three month visas, and so we needed to go into Cape Town to clear out and return the rental car. Midmorning Quantum delivered our new stackpack and returned our repaired dodger. After spending some time making sure the stackpack fit, we drove into Cape Town to clear out and pick up the repaired windlass motor. One last trip to the cheap middle eastern food baazar on Darling Street capped off our Cape Town experience.

Today was a crush of last minute tasks getting the boat ready to go to sea. But we somehow got it all done in time for one last braai with cruising friends on Nero, Vixen, Millenium, Afar and Jan Plasier.

And now, like our friend Buddy the Cape Fur Seal, we are (soon to be) Out of Africa . . .

January 29, 2010 - Frivocity

These past few days of traveling around the Western Cape with Kate and Amy have been dedicated to frivocity. Or was it frivosity? It probably was frivolity, which apparently is a word, unlike the two prior versions. But I quite like frivocity. It suggests a state of being weightless and without worry, which is, I think, exactly how one should be on vacation. And in life. As often as possible. And the "c" conjures impressions of felicity, with its implications of great happiness, bliss, and good fortune. All of which are wonderful things to share with friends. And so, I give you our pursuit of frivocity . . .

What better place to forget ones cares than on a wine farm? So on Tuesday morning we loaded up the car and headed to Stellenbosch, the heart of South Africa's winelands. Our first stop was Meerlust, whose red blend Rubicon is a South African icon. We weren't all that impressed with the wine, though the art in the tasting room was really fun.

Typical Cape Dutch architecture at Meerlust

We drove up out of the valley and into the heights of the Helshoogte Pass. The arrival at Delaire, the "Vineyard in the Sky" was simply stunning. Close at hand were lush gardens, leading up to a beautiful modern tasting room and restaurant, which are surrounded by soaring mountains. Every detail in the decor was well thought out. We found just being in such a stunning environment uplifting. And then we tasted the wine. Lovely. We wished that we could have stayed for lunch, but we had reservations in Franschhoek, so had to move on.

Delaire - a vineyard in the clouds

Over lunch at Dieu Donne, the girls asked us what we planned to do when we got home. As I tucked into a delicious bowl of laksa, we hatched a plan to open a food truck and call it Lekker Laksa (lekker being Afrikaans for all things tasty and delicious). But then Kate pointed out that making big steaming vats of laksa every day might not be such a lekker lifestyle. Ah well, back to the drawing board.

After lunch we wandered down the road to Chamonix, where we spent an idyllic hour under the trees by the old blacksmith's shop, tasting their wonderful chardonnay and red blends. Sten abstained from many of our tastings during the day so that he remained fit to drive us around, but he was always on hand to lend an opinion. It quickly became apparent that between the four of us we were split straight down the middle when it came to reds. Amy and I would lean towards the big, bold cabs and syrahs, while Kate and Sten favored the more subtle Bordeaux blends.

We ended the day (as one should, as often as possible) with a champagne tasting at Haute Cabriere. Here was one thing we could all agree on, the blanc de blanc blend was the best of the bunch. Oh, and that Cape Brandy is definitely an acquired taste.

Five o'clock rolled around and we needed to find a place to spend the night. After making a few calls, we found that the Cook's Cottage available for the night. Jo, the owner, had done some sailing too, and seemed to understand when we bargained for a reduced rack rate. Then he was nice enough to clean the pool for us. We grabbed a bottle of champagne and our swim togs, and slipped in for a soak, surrounded by the heady aroma of lavender bushes.

Late that night, coming home from the pub, Kate and Amy had their first run-in with South African security systems. Unlocking the front door, they managed to set off the panic button on the key chain. Sten and I laid in bed, listening to the racket and them talking about it. "Should I get up?" Sten asked. "Nah, they are fine. Besides, the security company will be here in a minute." Moments later, the security guard arrived. Then he proceeded to fuss with the panic button for several minutes, I'm sure much to the pleasure of the surrounding neighbors.

The following day, Wednesday, was one of my best days ever. Strolling around Franschhoek with good friends, window shopping, trying on jewelry, buying chocolate from the chocolatier, strolling through galleries, and relaxing over a long lunch at Rueben's, one of the best restaurants in South Africa (and one of the best meals any of us have had in years), enjoyed with a fabulous sauvignon blanc from Kevin Grant's (of Hamilton Russell fame) new vineyard, Ataraxia. We had truly achieved a state of frivocity.

As we drove up and over the pass that would take us up out of Fraschhoek and down into the Hemel-en-Aarde (heaven on earth) Valley, we pulled off at a few scenic overlooks to look down at the river rushing through the gorge below us. At one pull off, we stumbled across a couple, clearly getting busy in their car, which just isn't something you see every day, on any continent. And so to give them their privacy, we kept going, down through the Hemel-en-Aarde Valley and into Hermanus, where we stopped to pick up some olives, bread and cheese for dinner.

Kleinzee Guesthouse - in season this porch would be a perfect spot to watch whales spout and breach

Sunset found us at a beautiful guesthouse, perched on the edge of Walker Bay. After a walk among the fynbos along the edge of the cliff, we retired to the balcony to enjoy the warm night air, the pervasive scent of lavender, and some wine from Chamonix and Delaire. During the season, Walker Bay is filled with Southern Right Whales, but not this time of year. We'd come here in search of a more menacing sea creature - the Great White Shark.

Sunset over Walker Bay

The following morning we were up bright and early to join a shark diving trip out of Gansbaai. The night before I slept badly, tossing and turning, worrying about how we were going to get from the boat into the cage that would protect us from the jaws of the Great Whites. I shouldn't have worried. The cage was lashed right against the hull of the boat, and all we had to do was slide in and out of it . . . once we got over the fact that we would be taking a bath in chum.

Heading out with the dawn to get to the shark grounds

The crew uses a mixture of chum and fish heads to lure sharks towards the cage

Behind those oh-so-attractive hoodies and masks Amy and I smile in nervous anticipation (or was it apprehension?) of the next shark pass

Sten was stoked to have Great Whites swimming a foot from his face. There was nothing about the experience he didn't like . . . though he could have done without the idiot next to him sticking his arm out the cage to pet a Great White.

Visibility in the water wasn't very good, but it was good enough to see the pink bloody gums and gleaming white teeth of the sharks as they swam right towards the cage.

Kate - rocking her wetsuit like a Bond Girl

We returned to our guesthouse in Die Kelders to take some much needed long hot showers and then we had lunch at Coffee on the Rocks, a little restaurant in a home just down the street from the guesthouse. After lunch, with the day half over, we decided it was too late to put on many miles, so we drove back up the road to Hermanus, where we checked into another guest house and then we headed back up the Hemel-en-Aarde Valley to do some wine tasting.

Our first ever caption contest -- one bottle of lekker SA vino to the reader who sends us the wittiest caption for this photo

It is possible that we'd had a bit too much wine at this point

Our first stop was Hamilton Russell, whose pinot noir has long been our favorite pinot. But over the years, as their wine has won more awards the price has ratcheted up. At $14 a bottle it was a steal. At $26 it was still a relative value for the quality. At $36 a bottle at the cellar door, it is decidedly out of our budget. So we enjoyed our tasting and drove on up the road to Bouchard Findlayson and Newton Johnson to see if we could find some wines for the bilge that aren't priced so decidedly for the export market. We had really enjoyable tastings at both estates, plumbing the tasting room attendant at the former for restaurant recommendations and at the latter for help with Kate's Afrikaans.

If only I had the photoshop skills to make these labels read "frivocity"

After a decadent guesthouse breakfast this morning, we intended to drive back into Cape Town. But some texts with friends and a call to Table Mountain revealed that the cable car up the mountain was closed due to gale force winds. Ever since our lunch at Rueben's, Sten had been thinking about Ataraxia. So we called up the vineyard to see if we could visit their tasting room. They were more than happy to have us, so we headed back up the Hemel-en-Arde Valley.

Ataraxia is a relatively new vineyard, but their excellent chardonnay has been winning awards. The vines are still young, so they have been sourcing most of their grapes from Elgin and other vineyards in the valley. But they will soon be releasing wines made from grapes grown on their vineyard. We were lucky enough to visit the tasting room the day after their US distributor, and were able to try the chardonnay blended for the Cape Winemakers Guild auction. With Kevin Grant at the helm, we are excited to watch this vineyard develop.

The new tasting room at Ataraxia - no appointment necessary

Our next stop was Creation, where we enjoyed a lunch of small bites paired to the vineyard's wines. It was really interesting to see how the flavors of food changed the flavors of wine. And now I know that to choke down an overly oaked chard, all I need to do is to pair it with some Ceasar dressing. Brilliant. But nothing, and I mean nothing, can make a tanic merlot enjoyable.

As we sat on the deck, looking out across the vineyard to the mountains beyond, Amy took advantage of a lull in the service to deal with a problem at work via her Blackberry. As she communicated with the office, I could feel the stress seeping back into her. It reminded me too much of how I used to be, and made me determined not fall back into old patterns when we go back to work next fall.

On the way back to Simonstown we stopped in Elgin at a friend of some friends' wine farm. While we were there, a couple of older Europeans walked in, clutching their copy of the John Platter guide to South African Wines. Apparently Platter thinks that our friends' friends make a good value rose. So "the swallows," as Europeans who spend their winters in South Africa are known, tasted the rose, decided it was lekker, and bought a case. But they never bothered to try anything else. The Platter guide is certainly a helpful tool . . . we couldn't have navigated our way though so many wine regions these past few weeks without the outdated copy I picked up at the weekly Simonstown library book sale . . . but blindly following his ratings struck us as a limiting way to visit a wine region or a vineyard.


As soon as we got back to Simonstown, Amy ran up to Boulders Beach to get a look at the penguins. Then she joined the rest of us at the Bay Cafe for our last dinner together. In the morning we will drop Kate and Amy at the airport for their flight out to Nelspruit and then on to Sabi Sabi. It has been a terrific visit, full of laughter, adventure, great wine and food, and a healthy dose of frivocity. We can't imagine better travel companions. We're going to miss them. But now it is time for us to turn our attention to preparing ourselves and Mata'irea for the run up the Atlantic.

January 25, 2010 - Cape Peninsula

We love having friends and family visit us. And so we were thrilled when our friends Kate and Amy used our being in South Africa as an excuse to book a trip here to visit the Cape and to go see some wild animals. But this is the first time we have been someplace where sailing and water sports couldn't be big parts of our guests' time with us. The coast of South Africa just isn't a hospitable cruising ground. There is no such thing as gunkholing around here. And the idea of swimming in these shark-infested waters isn't very attractive. There is just no such thing as a sailing holiday in South Africa. Unfortunately, the conditions here just aren't conducive to providing visitors with a view of the cruising lifestyle. So we would be leaving the boat and heading inland with our friends. In some ways, this was terrific news for us. Instead of being hosts, skippers and chefs, we would be on vacation too.

On Friday, Kate arrived in Cape Town from Chicago, via Istanbul (not Constantinople, been a long time gone, Constantinople . . .). After such a long trip we didn't want to wear her out with a lot of sightseeing. So after collecting Kate and her luggage (which was full of goodies for us like maple syrup, tequila and 18lbs of magazines) from the airport, we drove around Cape Town and down Chapman's Peak Drive, which hugs the west coast of the Cape Peninsula. We stopped several times to take in the views. Then we turned in at Cape Point Vineyard, to sample their vino. Sten and I are fans of the Sauvignon Blanc bottled by Cape Point Vineyards for the upmarket South African supermarket chain Woolworths (aka, Woolies). So we were excited to try the rest of their lineup. Luckily for us, we discovered that we prefer their Woolies blend to the more expensive versions available at the vineyard.

From the vineyard we headed back to Simonstown. For two nights, until Amy arrives on Sunday, Kate would be staying with us on board Mata'irea. We had been keeping an eye on the weather and were relieved to see that it wouldn't be very windy the two nights that she would be on board with us. In either case, she'd brought her ear plugs (smart girl!) so she was all prepared for creaking docklines and howling wind.

For weeks we have been looking forward to having a meal at Olympia Cafe in Kalk Bay, but were saving it for a special occasion. What could be more special than a friend flying half way around the world to visit? So after Kate took a long shower and changed out of her flight clothes, we piled in the car with our cruising friends Bob and Glenda on s/v Nero. As we sat at the tables closest to the kitchen, we watched plate after plate of delicious looking food come out, getting hungrier and hungrier. The food was as good as it looked . . . and a bargain at South African prices.

Back at Mata'irea after dinner Kate and I had a debate about whether the boat was moving. It was such a quiet night, and I couldn't feel anything and so I was adamant that it wasn't moving. She kept insisting it was, but I didn't believe her until I looked out the window and noticed all the masts around us swaying back and forth. Apparently I'm so used to my home moving around that it doesn't register until it really gets bouncy or loud.

What a bunch of jackasses - jackass penguins that is.

Saturday dawned as a beautiful, calm morning. So we took advantage of the fine weather and walked up to Boulders Beach to visit the penguin colony. Along the way we also saw a little mongoose and some very large dassies (rodents with the worrying ability to flatten their skulls to squeeze into tight places). Walking back to the marina, we stopped in at the local library's weekly book sale. While we were browsing, Sten (who has little patience for bookstores) headed back to the boat to make us some BLTs for lunch.

After lunch we drove up to Constantia to check out a few of the local vineyards. The Constantia vineyards are some of the oldest in South Africa. Their traditional architecture and proximity to Cape Town make them magnets for tour buses. On a beautiful, sunny Saturday afternoon, they were packed. But they are clearly used to the crush and have the facilities to handle the crowds. We visited two vineyards, but didn't find anything we had to take home with us.
As we were climbing in our rental car Sunday morning to go to the airport to pick up Amy, Sten noticed that the trunk lock had been jimmied the night before. Luckily, there was nothing in there but some charcoal and a pair of shoes. While Kate waited for Amy's flight to arrive, we went over to the rental car desk to see about swapping out the car. According to the guys at the First Rental Car counter, even though we have full insurance coverage, we would be liable for the damage to the trunk lock if we didn't file a police report. So we kept the car and planned to go to the local police station that afternoon to file a report.

After collecting Amy we drove back towards Simons Town via the townships south of the airport. We planned to spend a lot of time with our guests in the "nice" parts of the Western Cape, so we thought it would be a good idea to show them the rest of the story.

The drive back to Simons Town along the False Bay coast took a while with the weekend traffic. By the time we reached Kalk Bay, we were all getting a little hungry. So we found ourselves back at Olympia Cafe for what would be the first of many 2 hour lunches that we would have during Kate and Amy's visit.

After lunch, we dropped Amy at the British Hotel so that she could rinse off a few thousand air miles. Then Kate and Sten and I went to the police station to file a police report at the insistence of the rental car company. After that bit of housekeeping was taken care of we drove down to the Cape of Good Hope Nature Reserve, a national park just 8kms from the yacht club.

Cape of Storms

We climbed up to the lighthouse at Cape Point and then drove out to the Cape of Good Hope for the obligatory photos at the most Southwestern Point of Africa. Then, as the sun set, we drove some of the backroads of the park, where the tour buses don't go. Along the way, we spotted a small herd of zebra, which was a very lucky siting, a few groups of bontebok, which is a species of antelope only found in the Cape, a lone ostrich, and lots and lots of baboons. It was such fun seeing how excited Kate and Amy got about each animal. We just knew they were going to have a great time at Sabi Sabi.

It was such fun to be able to get out of the car and walk to take pictures of animals. As soon as we stopped the car, the girls were immediately gone with their cameras and off into the fynbos snapping pictures. But because Sten and I had done all of our prior game viewing in Big Five parks, full of dangerous predators, at first it felt so wrong to be out of the car. It took a while for us to relax and adjust to the fact that there was no chance that a lion or leopard was lurking in the grass by the side of the road.

On Monday morning we drove into Cape Town along Chapman's Peak Drive. We just can't get enough of the dramatic views along that twisty, winding road. And since Amy hadn't seen it yet, we had a perfect excuse to do it again. Once we reached Cape Town we parked the car, much to Sten's relief, at the Waterfront and climbed aboard a big red double decker bus for a "hop-on, hop-off" tour of Cape Town, which had been highly recommended to us and Kate by friends and cruisers. It is probably the most touristy thing we've ever done, but it was a good way to get an overview of the city.

After a few kilometers we hopped off to browse the craft stalls at Greenmarket Square. Then, as we wandered around the side streets branching off the square, I spotted the sign for one of the restaurants that Amy had included on her extensive list of things to do in Cape Town. And so we wound up having some tasty Ethiopian for lunch. It didn't look like much when the waitress set our communal plate it in front of us, but boy does that bread expand in the stomach!

The poorly named 12 Apostles. Actually, there are 17 of them.

With bellies full of injera, we climbed back on the tour bus, which took us up and around the back of Table Mountain and down into the ritzy neighborhoods perched on the edge of the ocean. On the way back into Cape Town, Sten thought he spotted a whale spout. So we jumped off the bus to see if it was really a whale, which if it was, would be completely out of season for this stretch of coast. As we peered out at the water, we saw the distinctive v-shaped spray pattern of a Southern Right Whale. And then another! It was a mother and calf playing around in the surf. We were so thrilled to share with Kate and Amy that feeling of solemn awe that we experience whenever we see whales.

The only disappointment of the day was that it was too cloudy to go up Table Mountain. So we got back on the bus and took it back into the center of the city so we could stroll through the Company Gardens. Cape Town was founded as a revictualing station for the Dutch East India Company. The stretch of land that was once farmed to provide fresh vegetables to the ships that called in here is now a beautiful swath of flower gardens in the center of the city.

Table Mountain dominates the Cape Town skyline

The colorful houses of the Bo-Kaap, a Muslim neighborhood

As the sun set we found ourselves back at the Waterfront, sitting at a wine bar, watching the standing cloud falling down off of Table Mountain. Over a decadent steak dinner Amy let us in on a few fascinating secrets of the marketing trade. See if we ever give out our zip code again!

January 21, 2010 - Route 62/ Little Karoo, South Africa

These past few days have been full of mountain passes, caves, big blue skies, vineyards, tissues and drugs. Yes, tissues and drugs. On Monday morning we reluctantly checked out of our little apartment at Storms River and hit the road. Our friends Kate and Amy would be flying over from the States at the end week, so we needed to start making tracks back towards Cape Town. Rather than heading back along the coast, we decided to divert inland to explore some of South Africa's vast interior.

We chose to make our cut north via the closest pass to Storms River, Prince Alfred's Pass through the Knysna Forest, which turned out to be mostly unpaved. As Sten navigated the dusty gravel road up through a dramatic mountain pass and up a narrow switchbacking approach to a lookout atop a mountain I worked on filling the door pockets, dash and glovebox with used tissues. The sinus congestion I had developed the day before had become a fullblown cold overnight.

As we drove out of the mountains and into the Little Karoo, we found ourselves driving west through a parched brown landscape, dotted with otherworldly vegetation, under a huge, deep blue sky. There was nowhere to stop for lunch, so as Sten drove, I dove into the chilli bin to pull out some humus, pita and cherry tomatoes for us to snack on (the tomatoes here are unreal; so sweet and juicy).

Midafternoon we rolled into the one horse town of De Rust where we refueled, threw out a mountain of used tissues, and bought some ice cream bars (as it was hot, hot, hot). Then we turned north towards the Meiringspoort, a (thankfully) tarred route through a narrow gorge in the Swartberg mountains. In the gorge, the road repeatedly crisscrossed a nearly dry stream as all around us folds and zigzags in the rocks of the canyon walls vividly depicted how the earth heaved as it formed these mountains. All too soon we emerged from the gorge into the green and fertile Prince Albert valley.

It had been a long day of driving, so we were relieved when the first lodging we tried had room for us. We checked into the Swartberg Hotel and immediately went in search of a pharmacy. I was even more relieved to discover that Advil Cold and Sinus (the real deal), was available off the shelf in South Africa. So I bought enough to brew a small batch of crystal meth back in our hotel room. But before firing up the bunsen burners, we went off in to find the local dairy, which we'd heard produced some award winning cheeses. Then we meandered back through town checking out the arts and crafts made out of the regions two main products: merino wool and ostrich. When I wandered into a shop and saw a bright orange and pink plaid merino wool blanket, it was love at first sight. Enraptured, I held it up for a very dubious Sten to see. He tactfully suggested that I should sleep on it (the purchase decision, not the blanket).

We went back to the hotel and had a swim to cool off and loosen up after a long day in the car. At this point I was so congested that mucus was running out of the corners of my eyes. So I headed back to our room to soak in the big white, clawfoot tub to try to drain my sinuses. Rather than venturing out into the heat again, we hid out in our airconditioned room and had a dinner of local olives, chewy ciabatta, and a nutty Gruyere from the dairy up the road.

The following morning, after a large breakfast at the hotel restaurant, I went back to the gift shop and bought the technicolor merino throw (a few days later, back at the boat, I would look at it and wonder if I hadn't been shopping under the influence of too much Advil CS). We packed up the car and headed towards the Swartberg Pass, a narrow untarred road that would take us up over the Swartberg Mountains.

The first half of the road was a series of hairpin turns, with vertigo inducing views from the passenger seat. For some reason, at the top, we assumed that it would be easy going from there down.

But the second half of the road was also dramatic. Every few kilometers we had to pull over to give ascending cars enough room to pass.

Since we were in the area, we decided to stop in at Cangoo Caves, one of the top ten tourist attractions in the country. I spent much of our tour through the dimly lit caves being entertained by a woman who kept trying to take pictures of distant stalactites and stalagmites and who became increasingly frustrated with her new camera's insufficient flash.

After the tour, we continued on down the road to Oudtshoorn, the ostrich capital. We took a pass on the chance to ride an ostrich or camel, and decided instead to have ostrich and lamb burgers for lunch.

Do you think he knows that I'd like to turn him into a handbag?

Why did the turtle cross the road? To get to water, according to the local who pulled up, got out of his car, and carried the little fellow over to the embankment on the far side of the road.

Sharing the road with livestock reminded us of driving around New Zealand.

After lunch, we turned west. Along the way we passed miles and miles of fruit orchards. I don't know if it was the power of suggestion or a deep craving for vitamin C, but when we stopped at a farm stall, I couldn't resist a bottle of fresh squeezed pear juice. Early in the evening we checked into the backpacker's in Robertson. The owner showed us to the nicest backpacker room we've ever had. Unfortunately, that night neither of us slept as well we should have. We both had a rough night as my sinus congestion moved into my chest and my coughing kept us up.

Peach and apricot pits are a popular mulch in the Klein Karoo

Wednesday morning I woke up feeling much better, but was still coughing a lot. So before heading out to explore the area, we stopped at the local pharmacy where we were sold a cough suppressant with codeine. And then it was off to taste some wine.

South African wine is an incredibly good value. So we are planning to leave here with a bilge full of it. We came to Robertson specifically to buy wine, but due to my cold, I could barely taste a thing. So Sten became our chief taster for the day. By spitting a lot, we managed to visit ten different vineyards in one day. But we couldn't have pulled off that many vineyards in a more heavily traveled wine region. Robertson, which produces some great wines, is off the beaten path for wine tourism, so there aren't many punters crowding the tasting rooms. It is always preferable (for us) to be the only ones in a tasting room, that way we can move through wines at our own pace, quickly dismissing wines that don't suit our palates.

Codeine and wine (lots and lots of wine), a brilliant combination

The highlight of the day was the Weltevrede Wine Estate. The tasting room hostess was friendly and informative. And we really appreciated the displays on the terroir of their various single vineyard wines. It was one of the most fun tastings we've ever done.

We wound up at Bon Chance around lunchtime. So we joined a table of other travelers, including two Austrian winemakers, for a quick bite and ended up lingering for two hours talking about working overseas and life as an expat South African.

Our last stop of the day was Springfield Estate. We were already familiar with their wines, as we'd been served them in restaurants months before when we were based in KwaZulu-Natal. It was after a particularly good bottle of Springfield Sauvignon Blanc, Life From a Stone, that we first looked up Robertson on the map. We arrived at the vineyard knowing that we were going to buy at least a case of wine from them, which is lucky for them, because their tasting room attendant provided us with the worst service we'd had all day. She was uninformative, uninformed and clearly bored.

This morning we packed up the car and headed back to Cape Town. On our way out of Robertson we stopped at Graham Beck for one last tasting. This modern tasting room was the first we'd seen in South Africa where architecture and art are as big a part of the tasting experience as they are in so many vineyards in New Zealand and California.

We made it back to Cape Town by lunchtime and were back at the boat by midafternoon. We spent the rest of the day stowing the two cases of wine we'd purchased in Robertson and cleaning the boat in anticipation of our friend Kate's arrival tomorrow morning.