By the latter part of February we’d really started to develop a home-from-home in Knysna. We’ve spent evenings with Julian talking boats and business, others with his lovely sister Renay and her partner Rod and some of their friends. We’ve met great people at the Yacht Club and uncovered shared contacts around the small world of sailing. Dudley generously lent us his “spare” dinghy – a newish training type boat he’d bought to get friends afloat. We’re really grateful, have done some club racing (and will do more) and are just not going to go there with the fact it’s a Topper Argo. OK guys??!! Let’s just call it RS competitor analysis.
It’s also inspiring to hang out in a community where a group of people have extensive ocean sailing experience, as well as dinghies in the boat park. From round-the-world races, to Caribbean and European boat deliveries and cruising, I guess if you’re going almost anywhere from here, the geography leads you to ocean sailing. Talking to Clarence the other day, it sounded as though the equivalent of a New Year’s Day club race at home, is the Cape to Rio race here! It’s also good to hear these guys talk positively about the boats CM build.
We marked Amanda’s birthday at the end of February with an overnight stay in a fabulous lodge at Plettenburg Game Park. Belle Balance lodge was a treat and, while the game park didn’t quite match Amakhala last year, the fact that we could see elephants, giraffe and other animals only an hour from Knysna was pretty cool. Favourite quote from our guide after earnestly tracking a rhino: “The rhino is not here, so he must be somewhere else”. Years of hard-earned experience.
Next up, in early March, was a visit from a new-found friend (a bonus from this blog), Scott from Vancouver. Scott made contact a year ago while researching performance cats, with a view to retiring from his role as a trauma surgeon, persuading his prosecutor wife to do the same and, with new-found freedom due to uni-age daughters, head off to explore some world. Plans were modified late last year when Scott’s wife earned promotion to become a judge. A great achievement but the world must wait!
Scott is not a man to be easily deterred. We’d struck up a bit of a Zoom rapport and he decided to visit South Africa, take a stunning trip up to and through Namibia, then come down to Knysna to meet us, the CM team and Rush. He’s a top guy and we spent four fun days together, despite the weather going to rats. We parted vowing to meet up again soon for passages and holidays along Rush’s travels.
While we’re primarily here in Knysna for the completion and launch of the boat, it is also the first part of our adventure and experiences in some new parts of the world. We wouldn’t have spent time in South Africa and met people in the same way had it not been for the project and the introductions it brings.
The remaining jobs on Rush are steadily reducing and only a few items of equipment are outstanding. The solar panels finally arrived from the UK in early March and the trampolines (top of the tramp tech range and coming from the USA) were clearing in Cape Town customs. We’re awaiting Kevlar diamond shrouds for the mast which are being made in Italy. They should be despatched in late March.
Our SA visas have to be renewed in early April so we decided to head home for a couple of weeks in March to catch up with family and friends – new 90 day visas are granted on return to SA.
The flight home was definitely an experience we’ll remember. The plane developed a technical fault over the Med which we first knew about through being plunged into total darkness, followed by the pilot saying very simply “We have a technical issue and are diverting to Barcelona. We’ll land in 20 minutes. Fasten your seatbelts. I’ll tell you more when we’re on the ground”. No fluff – a man with stuff on. The cabin crew’s body language indicated that, while they were doing their jobs, they knew more than we did and were, well, frightened. From these and a few other indicators, it was clearly a serious situation and we weren’t sure whether it was going to end well. We said a few words to each other. Then the entire plane fell utterly silent.
It was a long forty (as it turned out) minutes until we landed – but it did end well! The landing was normal except for blue flashing lights following us down the runway. There had been an engine failure – that’s 50% of the engines on a 787. We passed the pilot as we eventually disembarked and were able to thank him and ask what exactly happened. He told us the port engine lost its oil so they’d had to shut it down – then various procedures automatically activate, protecting the remaining systems. I guess they couldn’t be sure whether there was risk to the remaining engine. The pilot pointed out that they regularly train for this type of thing in a simulator… but you could tell he was somewhat shattered. Must feel different with 265 people sat behind you. Apparently most air crew go through their whole careers without experiencing something like this.
We’ll gloss over the following 24 hours trapped airside in Barcelona. Interesting how trivial that seemed in the circumstances – and the camaraderie between everyone was warming. Bit like a movie where you gradually get to know the people, from all walks of life and around the world. Sadly, no romances or murders we’re aware of… but imagine this: One of the passengers was a nineteen year old South African girl, travelling alone, on her first ever flight – with $400 given by her parents to last until she received her first ever pay cheque at a US restaurant.
Two weeks at home were absolutely lovely and flashed by, meaning we didn’t manage to see everyone we’d have liked to, but we did catch up with quite a few. It was quite hard to head off again, even though we’re very fortunate to be doing what we’re doing.
