Return Crew day 21 – 28 February 2020

By Clare

The wind is up and so is our speed .We hope you are following our progress on the race tracker .The only down side is that it can be difficult for the sleeping crew at night and producing food for the ever hungry hoard has some very challenging moments.

Yesterday morning the full kettle took a leap and dived off around the back of the gimbal-mounted stove, resulting in the handle needing to be remodelled expertly by Rory and Cameron with wire and cable ties. It is now sporting some characterful dents in its lid but otherwise up for duty.
I wanted to say a little about our time in Tristan, which for me, so far, has been the highlight of the trip. We had to anchor off the coast and went ashore the next day as the swell and conditions were too rough to get the crew safely to shore and back again in the rubber duck that was sent out from the harbour to lead us to the anchor point. We were all so disappointed at the time and our sprits took a real dip until we settled into riding the swell and on our rota of anchor watch. In the afternoon we were joined at anchor by Argonaut, who are also returning to Cape Town. They do not have their tracker or AIS system on so we too can’t see where they are, however communications from them since then have shown that they are keeping a close eye on us!

We had to get medical clearance to land which involved the simple process of the Islands Doctor Alex asking over the radio if we were all well with no coughs or colds! It was rather unlike the reception we all had at Luanda airport, where a fully gowned and masked official pointed a probe at us from a distance.

The rubber duck was expertly driven at super speed into the tiny harbour and as we got off and unloaded our deisel and water jerry cans it was lifted out of the water by a crane. Our first steps on land were somewhat comical with our sea legs needing to adapt very quickly to get us out the harbour, past the crayfish factory and up to immigration, tourist information and various treats we hoped were in store for us. We had a little welcome party who were so friendly and genuinely happy to meet us all.

I was amazed at the number of vehicles from old Landies to new Toyotas and at how lush the grass was growing everywhere. Contented and fat cows were grazing just over the low stone walls. With passports stamped and landing fees paid we went to the well stocked and comfortable info centre for toasted sandwiches, some books, post cards and tourist knick-knacks and a sit-down on stationary chairs. We all posed for photos with the Argonaut crew and I stayed to talk to the information centre manager to ask her about her life and time spent on the island. I then wandered about for a short while and three of us got chatting to an elderly gent about his family, the potatoes he grows and how things have changed over the years. They were surprisingly up with the times and said how the internet and crayfish factory kept them up with things but said they needed more youngsters.
We didn’t have the chance to shower but managed to restock at the busy supermarket, refuel and top up our water tanks. Then chatting to some workers at the crayfish factory and asking who to speak to about getting some crayfish led me on a hot trail and scoring the most delicious, fattest tails for us and Argonaut crew from the wonderful Maria. And it turns out that the factory manager was a Montivista scout. It’s a small world.
I know you are all on the edge of your seats with the tennis ball market research. No? Well I asked the late duty crane operator. “We don’t go for much sport here”, he said but we do have a golf course which one or two people play on. Tennis? I asked. He just laughed…

There were several keen looking sheep dogs but they were either trotting along by their owners or laying in wait to chase the next car down the street.

Leaving Tristan was very tricky in the ley of the Massive volcano. Winds built a little, then inexplicably died. It was supper time with me at the helm. I lost the wind and perfected some of my famous granny jibes and it was here that Argonaut came on the radio loud and clear to ask if we were returning to Tristan. “No”, we replied, “there’s just a granny on the helm …”