After a long night tacking south along the coast we finally dropped anchor in the little bay of Port Dauphin, narrowly missing an unmarked rock just below the water. The yacht Cesarina had motor-sailed and was anchored before us.
The scenery is spectacular, with mountainous Pic Louis rising beyond the white sand beaches, its cliffs faced with great smoothly rounded slabs of rock. The town appears to include many half built structures along the beach. Lots of boys playing football on the sand.
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| Port Dauphin, Madagascar |
No one seemed to pay any attention to two yachts anchored off the little harbour. Many large dugout canoes paddle out to sea to fish, but none approached us, although we managed to get someone to wave back from one. No outboard motors in sight, and no modern boats! Madagascar is rated by the World Bank as the poorest nation in the world not in conflict.
I rowed over to Cesarina and mentioned to Dietmar and Michael that I was going ashore, but they were horrified and said that under no circumstances would they do this because of the outbreak of plague! This was news to me, so I consulted Family experts in medicine and foreign affairs and found that the bubonic and pneumonic plague epidemic did not appear to be in the south. Nonetheless we stayed on board that afternoon, tired after our 550 miles from Reunion, and I spent time downloading weather reports and planning our next leg to South Africa. A big storm is on the way, and it is going to be tricky timing our exit to get across safely.
Having determined to stay at least another day, this morning I was determined to head ashore. Justin declined the risk, so Mark and I set off, and to our astonishment our German neighbours changed their minds and got a lift ashore with us.
Arriving in the crumbling harbour was impressive, with about seventy long dug out canoes drawn up in a semi circle on the beach, and a rusting barge sunk in the inner harbour. We tied up and clambered onto the dock as the centre of attention of a crowd. As we walked up to town a smart pickup truck arrived and a pleasant young man got out to introduce himself as the immigration official. However he kindly waived the formalities on Sunday so that we could wander round, but asked that we didn't get into trouble as he hadn't issued visas!
Up at the town we strolled round, and collected a few hangers on, including a young student, Alexandre, who stuck with us all day as we explored. Our route took us round the headland to look into the next bay, and we spotted a humpback whale breaching out at sea.
It became obvious that things were in disrepair. There were restaurants and little hotels that had once been splendid but which were now ruins. We came across a few little roadside stalls selling fruit, and then surprisingly a patisserie which stocked pain au raisin and icecreams! However without money we couldn't buy anything. Back in town we found a hotel that had two or three guests having coffee and nearby an ATM enabled me to draw out some local currency, the ariaray. The smallest amount was 20,000 ariaray but I was unclear how much that was worth in pounds sterling. However it turned out to be worth 4 beers at the hotel, and a euro seems to be 3,000. Here we got chatting to some South African contractors working to refurbish furnaces at the local mining operation, that produces illuminite, whatever that is? Mark kindly went back out to TinTin and brought Justin ashore for a beer, and then we returned for supper as the weather turned to mist and rain. Now, later on Sunday, it has cleared and the sea is dotted with little lights as the fleet of dug out canoes bob around fishing for squid.
Tomorrow is my sixty fourth birthday.....a number that seems so unreal that I cannot relate to it. I am so lucky to be able be adventuring like this, and to feel vigorous and moderately youthful. Thankyou to all my family and friends for making this possible!
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