Marooned and then a tropical cyclone

There is a good and kind blue witch. Her name is Agapanthus. Agapanthus is a good woman who keeps children amused and occupied with her magical stories. Agapanthus was my friend and ally on Bazaruto. I’m not sure where she came from but she was there when Kath and I needed her.

As the lazy, sun filled days passed. As the tide came in, and the tide went out we realised that it was possible that our ferry had forgotten to come and pick us up. I don’t know if I was the only one who had some moments of anxiety. In the mean time, Roland and Cliff had taken cousin Wally back to Paradise Island (Santa Carolina) to catch a flight back to Salisbury. More importantly, they had made the trip safely although I seem to remember they told of a close brush with a big shark.

To fill in some gaps: Cousin Wally had joined us in Inhambane or Vilanculos – probably Vilanculos. Roland says Vilanculos. Roland also says we left from Vilanculos and not Inhassoro – I do believe him as his memory for that sort of thing is a lot better than mine. Anyway, Wally was with us on the fishing boat going to Bazaruto from Vilanculos. So, now nobody knew where we were or how long we were going to be there – including us.

Kath and I spent a lot of time with Wendy but she needed to have time for herself without us hanging around. Then Agapanthus came along and Kath and I became very attached to Agapanthus and her magical adventures. Agapanthus could sing, too. Admittedly, she used my voice and that was OK. Kath was young enough to think I had a lovely voice (I don’t, I am totally tone deaf).

So, more-or-less, we were marooned on Bazaruto, not quite a desert island but near enough. In those days there was no telephone, not even a radio-phone, no electricity and there we were with a small child. How irresponsible were we? Roland and I, not Cliff and Wendy!

Finally, one day, we saw a fishing boat waiting on the tide to come in. I don’t think I was the only one hoping it was there to pick us up. I suppose it was predictable that high tide was quite late in the evening when we were supposed to leave. All day we had watched storm clouds gathering. We knew this was not going to be an easy trip back to the mainland.

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The fishing boat was similar to the one with the cabin

Once the fishing boat was close enough, we clambered on board with all our stuff, including Cliff’s boat that was towed behind. The ferry had an almost illegible sign stating 5 crew and 12 passengers (something like that). Well, not on this trip! We were packed in with at least 30 people. Where they came from I have no idea. Our group chose to sit in the open stern of the boat because the overcrowded cabin was not pleasant. We are not talking comfort or luxury here. This was a working fishing boat and smelled like it; old fish and raw diesel fuel being the most noticeable odours. I sat on a coiled rope. I think the pattern of the rope is still imprinted on my bottom. Kath was curled up on my lap. Roland stood behind me, keeping Kath and I from flying off the boat, this was highly likely as the waves got higher and higher and the sea rougher and rougher. Cliff stood behind Roland. He was hanging on to the mast with one hand and steadying Roland with the other. Wendy was hanging on to Cliff. I can remember Alec’s hat blew off soon after we left the island and the Skipper wanted to turn back to retrieve it. “No!” we shouted in unison, “Keep going. Don’t turn back.” During the night the Skipper saw a light on the shore and, thinking it was Vilanculos harbour, turned toward it. It turned out to be a fisherman on the beach with a little fire to keep warm. I had heard of a ‘false dawn’ but had never experienced one until this frightening night.

We didn’t know it at the time, but we were caught in the tail end of a tropical cyclone. In the event, Kath was violently seasick the all way back to the mainland and the trip took all night. Another thing we didn’t know was that Kath had a tiny splinter of coral in her foot and it was in the process of turning septic. There will be more about that in the next instalment.

Thanks for your encouragement to keep writing this blog. I don’t know if I am enjoying remembering these things or not!

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Marooned and then a tropical cyclone

Digging into memory isn’t easy: Being there

This is really difficult, digging back in memory to find the holiday. Wendy remembers the young guide and ghillie but my memory of him is dim. I have no recollection of any of planning for the trip and rather think that Cliff and Wendy did all the organising. I do tend to be a ‘passenger’ even to this day.

Be that as it may, the cabins where we stayed were (I think) the only buildings at the north end of the island, right on the beach. We never ventured as far as the south end of the island (about 37kms away) but I recall that there were some wealthy South African dentists camped there on their annual fishing junket. The cabins were double storey and so stuffy we all slept outside under mosquito nets. There was funny smell inside, too. Rats, definitely a rat stink. There was no electricity and no cooking facilities either. Glifford did a magnificent job cooking all our meals outside on a primitive barbecue.

The first night in the camp I heard a curious rustling noise from inside the cabin. Roland wasn’t budging so I had to go and find out for myself what was going on. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of gigantic cockroaches in the shower, frantically hustling and rustling. “How can this be?” I thought. In retrospect, the insects must’ve been after water – although I have no recollection of any piped water into the chalet. After a couple of nights I got used to the rustling noise and ignored it. I doubt if we used the shower anyway, maybe to wash the salt off after swimming or maybe we just chose not to wash.

Swimming in front of the cabins was not an attractive proposition. When the tide was out it was just mud (and sea cucumbers) as far as the eye could see. When the tide was in, I knew the worms were underfoot. The swimming beach was a short walk over the dunes, on the ocean side of the island. Each day Roland and Cliff would make a shelter for Kath on the beach. They broke branches from the casuarina trees that grew a short distance back and made a tepee to keep the sun off her. She would play in it and when she was tired she’d make a little sand pillow under her towel and sleep.

Wendy and I would take turns to snorkel on the coral reef. Always, there had to be someone to keep an eye out for sharks. Sometimes we would swim together while Roland and Cliff kept watch. They spent a lot of time  in Cliff’s boat, out fishing and we ate a lot of fish. Roland remembers some of the fish he and Cliff caught but I don’t. I did find a beautiful shell which I kept for years as a darning aid. It looked a lot like the one in the illustration but a darker brown.

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Next time (and I hope I can keep this up) I’ll tell you about the good witch, Agapanthus. I made up the story to keep Kath amused and it went on for many episodes. Then, there was the terrifying trip back to the mainland where we were caught in the tailend of a tropical cyclone.

Digging into memory isn’t easy: Being there