Sudan-Port Berenice

Port Sudan is roughly halfway up the Red Sea. We would stay on the West(African) side of the Red Sea from Sudan into Egypt. Back then, on the Eastern side, Saudi Arabia was not friendly to foreigners. The weather was warm at around 27 C with an average of 11 hrs of sunshine.

Most yachts do this next leg, Sudan to Port Suez, in one hop; they don't stop anywhere. It has the reputation of being very rough and uncomfortable. The wind blows directly down the Red Sea. A NorWester, so a headwind, accompanied by short, steep, very uncomfortable seas. If we had wanted to, we could tack our way up the middle of the Red Sea without stopping, which is what most yachts did. This is where all the ships travel (and there are many of them), which holds its own dangers.

Franda II, however, was planning on sailing up inside the uncharted coral barrier reef and stopping every night. Rudy and Olga aboard Dreamtime decided to accompany us. Tina and I would often sail together on one yacht or the other. It was a dangerous proposal because the area inside or near the main reef had not been charted. There was no Google Earth to check where the reef and dangers were and no chart to check so somebody needed to be "on watch" the whole time and this meant standing on the Pulpit in the bow or to have someone up the mast, standing or sitting on the spreaders, depending where we were and what we were trying to achieve. The person up the mast could take the wired remote control for the autopilot and steer Franda II around bommies. However, they had no control over the engine or sails from their perch. Others on deck would need to trim the sails as the course changed or control the speed and direction of the propeller if motoring.

On April 24, 1978, Franda II followed Dreamtime and Jolly Jumper out of Port Sudan by a day. Franda II's crew were not sure when they would catch up with them again. Franda II anchored on the external reef of Sha'ab Rumi after beating to windward for 9 hours. We four siblings dove on the reef and "Cousteau's house." It had been fifteen years since the group of six men had lived underwater in the starfish-shaped house for thirty days. While they explored the depths with their garaged 2-man submarine. Two of the structures had been removed, but there was still the Garage, which we could see inside, and some of the toolshed to explore.

Franda II then moved into the safety of the lagoon for the night. While manoeuvring into our night anchorage at Mukawawor island(Egypt), we gently bumped into a coral bommie, the depth of it had been misjudged. We had been entering the lagoon from the wrong sun angle. We were looking into a sun low on the horizon, making it very difficult to see into the crystal clear waters. No damage was done as Dad was extremely cautious, and we were only just making headway. We reversed off and found another way through the shallows.

Some days, the wind would drop altogether, and we needed to motor. Typically, on an ocean passage, Franda II would never motor as diesel costs money, which we did not have, and there was no hurry. However, on these legs up the Red Sea, it was imperative we reach a safe haven by nightfall as we travelled in unchartered waters.

With the Sked with Dreamtime, Franda II learnt that Jolly Jumper had entered Khor Inkeifal, where two Arabs opened fire at them. The bullet went through the windscreen and past the seat where Gerard had recently been. He fired back, and the Arabs disappeared in a hurry. Jolly Jumper decided they would sail straight up to Suez so we would not see them again.

On the early morning Sked with Dreamtime, it appeared that finally, the two yachts would cross paths again. A lovely day to sail; although the wind was still on the nose, it was not too strong, and the seas were calm. Dreamtime stopped early at Marsa Abu Imama on the mainland and waited for Franda II. It was nice to catch up again. The adults dined on Franda II, and Freya cooked the "kids" dinner onboard Dreamtime. On dusk, three Arab dhows came into the harbour and in the dark, they unloaded sheep.

Another early departure, and after 7 hours of glorious sailing, the yachts anchored at Khor el Marob. We four girls went ashore on the mainland to clean "black" off the bottom of pots used to cook ashore on open fires. An Arab suddenly appeared out of the desert, startling us. We hurriedly loaded the dinghy and pushed off; the Arab started calling "Mayyah" "Mayyah". We knew this meant water. Dad suggested Kathryn and I take him in a bottle, so we filled a disposable bottle with water and rowed back ashore. We were not feeling all that comfortable, but we handed the bottle to him; he took one small sip and, smiling, handed the bottle back with a "Sukran" and a "Salam". He turned and faded quickly away into the desert backdrop. Totally confused, we climbed back into the dinghy and rowed back to Franda II. My family had quite some discussion about the incident. Did he just want to see who we were? To meet a Westerner? or was he close to home and just needed a mouthful to get him home? It didn't make sense to me. The conversation was again raised when the Dreamtime crew came onboard for dinner.

If we were anchored in a port, sometimes we would be visited by "Officials" who would check our passports against the crew list. Occasionally, the officials did the complete check-in. Doctor, immigration and customs. Some nights, if a settlement was nearby, Dreamtime and Franda II would anchor close and tie up alongside each other. This made us both feel safer concerning unwanted night visitors. If we still felt insecure, we would take watches through the night. Always having one or two persons awake and watchful. We never had any night visitors, but we continued with the night watches if we were near a town. However, when anchored on a reef somewhere offshore, we felt safe and all tucked into our bunks.

Some days, if there was no suitable anchorage, we would retrace our steps until one was found. This was difficult as we needed a cut-off time to have enough daylight to return to an anchorage. As our experience grew, we actively looked for possible safe night havens as we sailed by and marked them on the chart to know how far back a safe anchorage might be.
One day, Stu and I sailed on Dreamtime, and Freya sailed on Franda II. Both yachts arrived very early at the night's designated anchorage, Mirear Is. The wind had been a kind, gentle 15 knots and the seas were calm. Such a fantastic day for sailing, we both decided to continue. However, Franda II sailed on the leeward side of a reef, Dreamtime on the windward side. With the reef so near and nothing marked on the chart, both yachts had a dedicated person on the lookout. Mike was up Franda II's mast when he noticed the reef ahead and to leeward. On his yelled command, Dad on the helm quickly rounded up, handed the helm to Mum, and helped Kathryn drop the headsail. Franda II's speed dropped quickly. Motoring slowly, Mum unsuccessfully tried to find a way forward. After 3 hours of great sailing, Franda II discovered herself trapped. She had found herself in a lagoon, and the only way out was back the way they had come.

Franda II hoisted sail again and headed away from Dreamtime and back down the reef, anchoring for the night. Dreamtime sailed a little further on and found a safe place to anchor. The yachts were about 7NM apart. In the morning, Franda II still had another 5NM of back-tracking before heading north again, so Dreamtime beat her to the night's anchorage, White Rock. Tina and I enjoyed the early anchorage and enjoyed an afternoon of swimming.

The two yachts decided to visit Port Berenice as the chart indicated ruins and they thought they would be fun to explore and something different to do. Stuart and Kathryn were crewing on Dreamtime with Freya, while Tina and I were on Franda II. Before the yachts even got close and were still under sail, a patrol boat roared out from a Bay. One guy jumped onboard Dreamtime and took the helm. The guy was no sailor, and instantly, the sails flapped, and Olga grabbed back control, telling him he could not take over. However, she quickly indicated that she would go where he pointed. The launch then came alongside Franda II, telling them in limited English that they were within a navel area and that they must follow them into the bay. It was very concerning as the launch flew no flags, and the Egyptians wore plain clothes. However, the bomber that flew overhead and then circled above the two yachts told its own unnerving story. Both yachts dutifully followed the patrol boat, anchored close, then tied together for safety. We were then bordered by 2 army personnel; the guy in charge had some English and explained to the Families that he was a naval officer and they were in a naval base and would be kept there until the Big Boss in Suez had been contacted.

Now that the yachts were tied together, the crews mingled and became one. Hopefully, the passports will now match the crew. The Boss checked our passports thoroughly but seemed more interested in the stamps of the countries we had visited than anything else. The official spoke reasonable English, making the families feel safer. Dad tried to explain and show him the chart, which did not indicate a naval base. But just some ruins. The official was not at all interested. Dad was a great speaker, storyteller, and debater, and he argued that the yachts were low on food, water, and diesel to generate electricity. We could not be delayed.

The guy in charge said he would see us provisioned, and we were allowed to fish for food, to swim and go ashore, but not to leave the beach. The patrol boat left for their wharf with all our passports and Mum's little Instamatic camera.

The two families discussed the situation and wondered how long they would be there. Franda II managed to get a message out to Jolly Jumper at the next Sked that we had been detained in Port Berenice. This made everyone feel a little more relieved. If they were not heard from again, someone would at least know where we were.

Near midnight, the crew onboard Franda II was rudely woken with shouts and a high-beam spotlight. We raced upstairs to find the patrol boat hovering nearby. A parcel of food was dropped off, and they left. The "food" was small reef fish about 10-15cm long, which looked like they had been thrown directly onto coals to cook, guts and all. They were still warm but not very palatable to the family in the middle of the night, so they were well-wrapped and placed in the fridge.

Although sheltered from the sea, the wind howled through the rigging over the next few days. The anchorage did not have good holding, and when the winds strengthened on day 2, both yachts dragged their anchors. We untied from each other to deal with the situation. Franda II weighed her anchor and manoeuvred upwind to reset it. However, Dreamtimes' anchor had caught on the bottom, and they could not retrieve it. Stuart came to the rescue with his tank and dove to release the anchor from the seabed. This can be dangerous as the anchor chain moves when the yacht is bouncing around in the waves. Getting one's hands caught between the chain or anchor and the bottom is easy for the unwary. However, Stu was well versed in this manoeuvre and had the anchor safely free in no time. Dreamtime then anchored close to Franda II, but because it was now blowing a near gale, it was deemed safer not to be tied together.

A visit from the patrol boat with a 44-gallon drum on deck, our diesel. This was duly siphoned into Franda II's tank. We did not want the dirty drum on Franda II's teak deck, so we tied the patrol boat alongside. The Boss came on board and was eager to talk. He asked us all sorts of questions about the countries we had visited. Strangely, he also asked us two young girls to correct his English. This the two girls took great pleasure in.

Doug asked him politely if it were possible for the food to arrive at a more Western time, about 1800hrs. This was arranged. Life settled in where Franda II would have a visit from the Boss every morning for a few hours, and cooked fish would arrive at 1800hrs. The four youngest spent some time ashore swimming and stretching their legs. At other times, the crew did maintenance to keep themselves occupied. Or the younger ones settled down to schoolwork.

I was staying on Dreamtime studying with Tina when we heard Mum yelling. I hurried on deck to hear the word "Dinghy" yelled. Thinking it was Franda's dinghy, I looked at her stern, but the little yellow dinghy was there struggling against its painter in the chop. Then I averted my eyes to Dreamtime's stern to watch the dinghy drifting away. It was already too far away and travelling too fast to catch by swimming. Mike and Stu jumped into Franda II's little dingy and chased Dreamtime's one down. They had a long, slow, brutal row back towing the bigger, heavier dinghy. Even though they were rowing from the middle seat, with an oar each, the headwind and choppy waves took their toll. They arrived back with Dreamtime's dinghy, tired and wet.

After a few days, the family began to sense that not everything was as it seemed. The Boss was very interested in speaking and learning English, but there had yet to be any communication from the head office in Suez. It is not that far, and a camel has just about had time to trek there and back. Finally, the Boss returned our passports and camera, announcing that he was going on holiday the next day and that we were free to leave. Yes, it was all just a plan for him to practice his English.

The yachts were now "out of jail" and free to continue their trip north. That night, we celebrated on Franda II with roast venison, spuds, kumara, pumpkin and peas, followed by an apple crumble, fruit jelly and fruit salad. No, Franda II was not short of food, water or diesel.

We continued north to Suez