Djibouti-Zugar Island

As we looked around Djoubti harbour in daylight the following day, we were glad to see friendly faces again. Pīwakawaka had arrived in port before us, as befitted the light winds and a trimaran. Gypsy Cowboy arrived two days later.

I was surprised at the two French Navy ships in the harbour. As Djibouti gained its independence from France in June 1977, just 9 months prior. However, it seems Djoubti retained her military and economic agreements with France, and France maintained its most extensive African military base.

I found Djibouti even more underdeveloped than Kenya. The town was old, dusty and dilapidated. Every street I looked down, I saw hundreds of tiny "houses" lining the streets, built from packing cases, sacks, plastic bags, really anything at hand. People arriving in from the surrounding country are trying unsuccessfully to find work. Hence their cheap accommodation. At least the weather is warm. It was the first time I had seen abject poverty and homelessness. It made me trisful and at the same time anxious. Was I safe? I was a foreigner and a young female in an Arab country. I walked closer to my father.

The back streets were used as the local lavatory. It was the first time I had seen grown-ups drop their strides and defecate by a pole on the sidewalk. Although the men did this openly, their "robes" hid their activity; it was just an accepted part of life. It certainly made us prefer to stay on the main street, which was slightly cleaner. Although confronting, what else were they supposed to do? There were no public toilets, and (I assume) their employers did not supply toilets. Those living in the shanty houses had to go, too. So, it's just a necessity and circumstance. Even after understanding the reasons, I still wanted to avoid walking down those side streets.

Freya noted in Dreamtime's log that "It (Djibouti) is not by any means beautiful but is certainly one of the most interesting towns I've seen so far. The men who work in shops and banks wear Western clothes, and the street beggars and market dwellers wear a cloth wrapped around their waist, a loose kaftan-type shirt, and a little rimless cap. The men wear mostly dull colours. The women, however, wear all colours and designs together. They dress completely covered from head to toe, and some wear a black veil covering their face. So, the women make up the colourful part of the population with bright oranges and pinks, blues and greens and purples with all designs and no co-ordination whatsoever."

There is a lot of produce available, but all are imported from France, so very expensive. I wondered how the locals could afford to purchase them, or maybe they didn't. Perhaps the French navy ships and personnel purchased them.

I wanted to buy some stamps for my stamp collection. Dad gave me some local currency and told me the exchange rate, so while I was gamely standing in line outside the dilapidated dusty building that was the Post Office, I struggled with another local currency and exchange rate. I needed to figure out how much $NZ money I was planning to spend. Finally, when my turn came at the head of the queue, and having chosen my stamps, I realised I didn't have enough local cash. Dad was still in the adjacent shop, and short of yelling, I could not get his attention. A local man, next in line, noticed my agitation and came to my rescue, generously giving me 100 Djibouti Francs towards my chosen stamps. Fantastic generosity, and yet they have so little.

Dad organised duty-free goods/produce from the Ship Chandler to be picked up the next day. However, they were not ready when we went to pick them up. We were told to return in half an hour. However, on our return, only the onions were available. This, we were learning, was what we should expect. They all say they can deliver but don't. Because of this, we had to spend the next few hours buying the rest of our goods outside and inside the supermarket. Small vegetable market stalls were operating outside the supermarket, not exactly competing but close to it. Rocking up at a stall and asking for 20kg of carrots or 40 kilograms of potatoes is awkward. They often didn't have that quantity, so we would buy a few kilos there and at neighbouring stalls until we had what we needed. It usually takes 8 or 10 stalls to purchase supplies, which adds to the time it takes to do the shopping. Each piece is carefully selected and checked for rot, damage and age. Then, it is discarded or placed in the scale pan; the next is picked up. A long, slow, tedious process. Mum went into the supermarket to buy other goods but returned with nothing. It was way too expensive for us, and we didn't need anything except fresh fruit and vegetables, but we were always looking for bargains.

On March 30, we watched with interest as Thor Heyerdahl's "TIGRIS" came in.

Our stay in Djibouti was short; there was little here for us. As we were, unfortunately, leaving before Dreamtime arrived, Kathryn wrote them a letter letting them know some pertinent information: The "Freshwater" at the yacht club was slightly salty, and Franda II did not fill her tanks. The shops were closed between 11:30 and 15:00 and on Fridays. Our plans to travel with Piwakawaka, and where we planned to stop between here and Sudan.

Our first night was spent at Musha Is(Moucha is.) Just 10km north of Djibouti and still in the Straights of Tadjoura. My brothers and I dove and scrubbed Franda II's bottom. I really enjoyed this task. I just loved being in the water, and the excuse for using the tanks to scrub the hull was all it took to get me to work. Franda II was starting to grow barnacles and weeds in places, but it was not too bad yet. This growth is an added "drag" in the water and slows her down. Also, it is much easier to clean if just a light "dusting". Once the weed and barnacles really attach, a metal scraper is needed, which can easily damage the anti-fouling paint and becomes a much physically harder and longer job.

Now with a clean bottom, Franda II slowly moved on up into the Red Sea in the company of the NZ Trimaran "Piwakawaka" (Pee Wee) and crew, Arthur, the elderly owner and Steve, a young Aussie a little older than Mike. On the first day out from Musha Is, both yachts drifted along to windward at 2 knots. Pee Wee took the lead once Ras Bir was rounded as the wind was then abaft the beam. and suited the trimaran.

We were about to enter the fabled Red Sea.

Eritrea, Sudan, and Egypt are on the west coast, and Yemen, Saudi Arabia, and Israel(Siani peninsular) are on the east coast. We felt some apprehension in being surrounded by unfriendly Arab nations. The Red Sea is about 2250 km (1214 NM) long(North-South) and — at its widest point — 355 km (180NM) wide, but often is only 200km (108NM) wide, with the southern strait of Bab el Mandeb less than 5km of navigable seas. Its western coast is lined with largely uncharted coral reefs, where we were heading.

The winds started out kind in that they were from the south but blew over 30 knots. Franda II enjoyed the sail and had a great time. The Bab el Mandeb straight was busy. Some ships passed too close for my comfort. A colossal cargo ship only 50 metres away is a scary sight from a tiny vessel. I stood on deck looking straight up at their bridge and waved to the sailors standing there. They waved down at me; how small I must have looked to them. We were just abaft their beam when Mike turned Franda II away from them to take their bow wave on our stern, a more comfortable motion than rolling with the wave.

Finally, we caught a fish but sadly only landed the head of a Yellowfin Tuna. A shark thought he needed it more than we did. However, we successfully landed a small (7lb) Dorado a few hours later. Two 2lb fillets, and when Dad gutted her, he found her heavy with roe. Mum's favourite part.

While at the stern rail, instead of below in the stuffy Head, I noticed a fish bouncing on the waves behind the boat. I hollered, "Fish". Mike pulled in a Barricuda. They are fearsome snake-like fish with many teeth, so extra care was taken when "landing" them. Finally, fresh fish again. Fish soup followed by fried fish, roe, and mashed spuds for dinner.

Just on dark, we tried to anchor at Harbi Island beside Pee Wee. The anchorage was in 20 fathoms(40m) of water with a rocky bottom. A strong offshore wind was blowing, and although we tried 3 times, we kept dragging the anchor. Finally, our anchor "grabbed", but we were too close to Pee Wee. So the decision was made to up anchor and sail through the night to Jabal Zuqar Island just north of Greater Hanish Islands.

Mike put the fishing line out just as dawn broke and in sight of Zugar Island. Shortly after, he yelled "fish". I jumped down off my top bunk and hurried on deck to be on "tail" duty. This involved slipping a loop from a slip knot around the tail and hanging on tight. As soon as the tail was lassoed, I would brace myself so that if the hook was "thrown", the fish didn't go back over the side. I would be hanging on tight. Some fish we catch are near my size, 2/3 in weight, and all muscle. I would ensure I was well-braced with legs and body. Hands would be holding the string. This time, only a 3-foot-long Barracuda. These guys are snake-like and not solid like tuna. So, a lightweight, so to speak. Mike bled the fish by cutting its throat, and then we put it in the plastic "fish box" ready for Dad to deal with.

Mike let the line out again, and before he could finish connecting the rubber shock chord, he had another fish on his hook. Again, my job was to slip the loop around its tail, and quite a job it was; this guy would not sit still; in the end, I had to grab him just above the tail and lean all my weight on him, pinning him to the deck. I could only hold him still long enough to slip the loop over and pull the slip knot tight. I braced myself and nodded to Mike. He was ours now. This Barracuda was longer and heavier than the last. Dad now had quite a job on his hands. He would "steak" these. Cutting across the body through the backbone.

We noticed a small ship upon the rocks when we were entering the bay to drop anchor. Mike and Stu were very interested in it as it looked like a relatively new ship and hadn't been beached for long. Pee Wee arrived while Franda II was still anchoring and dropped her pick not far away. She had dragged twice in the night and had finally set sail at midnight, following Franda II.

Zugar Island was just volcanic rock with a few small bushes. It didn't look to have enough vegetation to support grazing animals. However, the three young men went ashore with rifles and brought home a small Tahr, neither goat nor sheep. It was butchered and put into the freezer, taking up little more room than a Hare.

Diving was a regular pastime partly for its joy but mainly for the abundant crayfish to catch and fish to spear. It was common to catch 4 fresh crays every dive, and we limited the fish to what the freezer could handle. On day 2, Steve shot one large and two small Tahrs, and as the lads were stalking others, they saw some Arab men - herders. The young lads had not yet come to terms with these wild Tahr being part of a herd. But, seeing the herder with them, the lads decided hunting them was not a good idea.

The small ship we had noticed aground on our way in was a trawler sitting about 2 feet high on the reef. The boys didn't board her on day one, as they had seen Arab men on board. However, the following day, we five young ones towed Arthur in his rubber ducky over to the trawler. There didn't look to be much wrong with the hull. Arthur paddled around her but could not see any damage. Her plaque indicated she was built in 1978, and as we were in April, she was very newly launched. In no time, Steve, Stu and Mike got the 6-cylinder diesel generator running, and with the power from that, they could start the main 8-cylinder Gardner.

The lads really wanted to salvage the trawler. However, when discussing the idea with Doug, he pointed out that they didn't have the right equipment and, more importantly, did not know the country's laws. They also realised that those islands were being "fought" over by both sides of the straights. Both Ethiopia and Yemen claimed the islands. So, it was sadly deemed too politically dangerous to try and salvage the ship.

For 5 days, we stayed at the island. In the evenings, whoever, sometimes Kap and sometimes Stu, and I would row ashore and start a fire on the beach. The others would come in later with the food and drinks. The eight of us feasted on barbecued Tahr chops and fish. Dad would have his pre-dinner rum and coke, the boys a beer, and Mum a gin. We two sisters were allowed a weak gin and tonic.

However, we needed to move on and headed north again towards Sudan.