Treasures of South Africa’s Cape Peninsula

From Knysna White Dove motor-sailed to the tiny, rolly marina at Mossel Bay. While waiting for a weather window, we stayed busy with small projects, scenic walks, and exploration of museums and shops. With some trepidation, we then faced the 220-mile/42-hour sail around challenging Cape Agulhus, the southern-most point of S. Africa, where the frigid Atlantic meets the warm currents of the Indian Ocean. The first half was pleasant with light breezes and flat seas until three hours before the cape. A strong SW wind quickly built up 3-meter seas on our nose, sloshing the deck and found an open hatch. Whoops! After 4-hours of chaotic, potato patch seas, the 40-knot wind came around behind us and we surfed the swells into False Bay.

The peaceful settlement of Simon’s Town offered a protected marina and friendly yacht club, and proved much quieter than the marinas in Cape Town. A 15-minute walk to watch the African penguins became one of my favorite daily activities. They are nicknamed Jackass penguins because of their braying which became especially loud during their mating season and quite entertaining.

Brett and Jillian, an affable S.African sailing couple became our unofficial tour guides for several adventures. One day we drove out to Cape Point/Cape of Good Hope, situated within Cape Peninsula National Park. Over 250 species of birds have been sited in this nature reserve, but few animals due to limited vegetation, although we were warned to be careful of the sometimes aggressive baboons. Playing tourists, we rode the funicular to the highest point overlooking the rocky promontory which Jerry and I would be rounding once we left the African coast. The views from the top were spectacular.

Table Mountain provided a full day of exploits with our S. African friends. We began a 5-1/2-hour hike on the Constantia Nek trail which took us up a curvy, pine tree-lined access road—all uphill, but shady and cooled by a gentle breeze. There were several small reservoirs constructed from stone blocks at the top of the first mountain. Along the route multitudes of wildflowers caught our attention including the elusive Red Disa which only blooms in February. Iridescent Sunbirds sip nectar from this vibrant flower and the Table Mtn Beauty Butterfly only feeds from it. This bio-diverse landscape grows over 2,000 species, many unique to the region, including the rhinoceros bush and several types of alien-looking proteas. We searched for Table Mtn ghost frogs, but they stayed invisible. However, several cute dassies scampered among the rocks.

The road ended at an old museum that displayed a steam locomotive and other artifacts that had been transported up the mountain by cart, cables, and manpower. These had all been used during the 1800s to build the dams. From here the real fun began.

With help from some locals we finally located the right trailhead (there were 3). For the next 3-1/2-hours we tramped a narrow rocky path, clambering over boulders, down steep hillsides into Echo Valley which lived up to its name, crossed logs through marshy bogs, and wound up an even steeper slope while negotiating 3 ladders! Quivering muscles burned, but the sweat and dust were well worth the magnificent vistas of False Bay, Hout Bay, and once on The Table, the sprawling city of Cape Town with its massive harbor. We picnicked before taking the easy, 4-minute route down—the cable car with a rotating floor. The panoramic views were awesome.

No visit would be complete without visiting wine country. There were several areas to choose from: Constantia, Franschhoek, and Paarl, but we only had time for the centuries old village of Stellenbosch.

Vineyards and orchards climbed from valleys and up hillsides, with the dramatic backdrop of purple-hued mountain peaks and sheer cliffs. Dutch manors were set amid stands of oak trees and fragrant flowers. At Fort Simon we toured an authentic-looking castle complete with moat; tasted scrumptious cheeses at Simonsberg; and strolled historic buildings and picturesque gardens at Neethlingshof. Of course, wine-tasting was involved too!

The grand finale: Kirstenbosch National Botanical Gardens. We ambled along winding, sometimes hilly paths, our senses bombarded by a kaleidoscope of smells and colors. Later, sheltered from the hot sun beneath tall trees, we spread our blanket and reclined on a wide grassy area. The sun sank slowly behind the grandiose backside of Table Mtn as we sipped our wine and melodious music from the S. Africa Navy Band wafted among the gardens.

Final preparations were made the following day before setting sail for the long voyage up the Atlantic. Rounding the Cape of Good Hope, we were fortunate to have only light winds, small swells, and no drama! South Africa blessed our farewell with a memorable sunrise—red and gold horizontal bands silhouetted Table Mtn’s dark hulk. In the deep blue sky above, wispy cloud patterns played tag. Ahead, the vast ocean beckoned us to new lands, new cultures, and new adventures. Until next time…

Hoodoos, Arches, & More

After 32 years, Jerry & I returned to Wyoming’s Grand Tetons National Park. We camped at Gros Ventre, situated amid a sagebrush prairie, beneath the cottonwoods. With almost 400 sites, the park provided opportunities to cycle and hike while moose grazed among the campsites.

Plans for kayaking Jenny Lake were exchanged for a hike after we found out the cost of permits—$80 for 2 kayaks. We parked at the Lupine Meadows trailhead and tramped to the lake , then followed the forested, rocky path, up and down, for 3 hours. A welcome lunch break was taken atop a large boulder with soothing sounds of a rushing river with small waterfall. Coming across a shuttle-boat landing further down the trail, the vote was unanimous to enjoy a relaxing 10 minute ride back to the south end of the lake.

We resumed our journey south after a hearty breakfast at the Virginian in Jackson. Following Hwy 89 we wound alongside the Snake River among mountains and valleys. An interesting evening was spent feeding alpacas, goats, chickens, and other critters at Harland Homestead. On 9/11 we contemplated that tragic day of 2001 and all who perished while rolling down the road to Capitol Reef National Park in Utah. Found an isolated spot to boondock off Notom-Bullfrog Rd, and then miraculously met up with our CA sailing friends near the closed visitor center without the assist of cell phones. Service is extremely limited here.

The highlight of our 3 days here was the partially paved Loop the Fold Rd. The all-day adventure in our jeep began on a dirt road leading across sandy gulches and through the Waterpocket Fold—a 100 mile wrinkle in the earth’s crust. Forces of erosion have sculpted the towering sandstone into wondrous shapes in vibrant shades of red, brown, ochre, and purple. We were addicted to discovering the surprise around each curve and didn’t stop until we’d completed the 115 mile scenic road at dusk.

The following day we’d planned to hike Grand Wash Trail. Sign at the trailhead: Dangerous flash floods can occur. If caught, climb to high ground.

That’s fine if you’re a mountain goat I thought as we trudged the narrow slot canyon with the sun beating down. After several rest stops in skimpy patches of shade, Jerry and I turned back while Steve and Susan proceeded a bit further. Thankfully all four of us chose to end the trek before conditions deteriorated. Back at the visitor center a crazy storm hit. I’m talking hail and torrential rain. When the squall subsided for enough visibility to drive back to camp, we encountered road conditions like the pictures above. Dry riverbeds became raging rivers, overflowing their banks and burnt sienna waterfalls poured over cliffs. What would our dirt road into our campsite be like? It turned out we were gratefully blessed 3 times: 1) The storm veered away from camp and our area was dry. 2) We had ended hiking early or might have become trapped or worse. 3) The Fruita Campground where we’d originally planned to camp had encountered major flooding.

So many trails were left to tramp, petroglyphs to contemplate, and vistas to admire, but we needed to move on to Horse Thief Campground, a US Forest Service area nestled between Arches and Canyonlands NPs. Our super-friendly camp host instructed us on how to obtain the necessary timed pass for the very popular Arches. We found the amount of people to be the only downside to this magical realm of arches, windows, and monolithic formations created from layers of sandstone.

Among our exploits: Hiking the Windows trail; a scenic drive past the Garden of Eden, Balanced Rock, and Elephant Butte to Delicate Arch viewpoint. Parking was a challenge at busy Devil’s Garden, but eventually found one and wandered a less populated passageway between fins, boulders, and hoodoos.

Escapades continued at the first of Canyonland’s first park—Islands in the Sky, a wide mesa sandwiched between the Green and Colorado Rivers. Its panoramic views offered glimpses of deep gorges and canyon walls reminiscent of the Grand Canyon. Ambled a couple of paths, not venturing too close to sharp vertical drop-offs. The night sky panoramas proved just as spectacular with a Milky Way glowing amid a lavish display of constellations, interrupted only by the occasional streak of a shooting star.

It was a shock to return to civilization, but drove into Moab for laundry duty, stocking up on supplies, and filling gas and water tanks. Steve forced us to stop at McDonalds for yummy mocha frappes, which I didn’t mind too much, before continuing on Hwy 191S to Hwy 211. Nine miles in, we paused at Canyonland’s Needles boundary to read the info signs. A local couple gave us directions to a nearby boondocking spot off the main road. With 30 miles to the park campground and being late afternoon, it sounded ideal. But 10 miles of weaving up Bear Ear mountain, we weren’t so sure as we parked on a large paved viewpoint. However, it did gift us with a beautiful sunset and rainbow the next morning. When we discovered one of the inner tires on our RV was almost flat, the obscure road turned out to be a real blessing. It led into the small town of Monticello. If we’d continued into the national park we would have been stranded without any facilities. By pure intuition (and guidance from above), we stopped at the Welcome Center/Frontier museum, which I highly recommend. The cheerful manager pointed us to Dependable Automotive, a couple of blocks away where the honest and experienced owner had us back on the road quickly. 

Whew—Made it to the Needles campground and obtained one of the last available campsites. Beneath sunny skies, surrounded by a red rock wilderness and vast sage-scented prairie, we admired the perfect view of Wooden Shoe Arch in the distance. Lively conversation accompanied taco salad and fresh melon slices our 1st evening.

The following morning we meandered the Slick Rock Canyon Trail, basically a walk on rock that’s marked by stone cairns. Atop this surreal landscape our attention drifted from potholes to sculptured pinnacles and a distant “hoodoo city.” The 2 hour hike turned into 4 with several breaks due to rising temps and lowering energy. We hadn’t brought enough water or food, but the thirst and low blood sugar we suffered was totally worth the experience. On our final evening, after a supper of broccoli casserole and the last of our garden tomatoes, we reclined beneath a blanket of stars in the dark Utah desert. We were privileged to witness the most amazing sight—Starlink’s satellite train, with at least 20 glowing orbs gliding across the sky. What a grand finale to our adventures in 3 of Utah’s captivating parks. We were disappointed not to have time to explore Canyonland’s 3rd and wildest region, The Maze. More remote and only accessible by 2-and-4-wheel drive, its canyons plunge 600 feet to trails that wander into a strange and quiet world of fins, grottoes, minarets and more. Hopefully we ‘ll be back to explore all of these areas and new ones. 

The final week of our journey included long drives, a couple of days with family in TN, and a half-day investigating portions of Mesa Verde NP, definitely not enough time. With binoculars we scrutinized extraordinary cliff dwellings, strolled some short paths, and studied museum artifacts plus early style homes dug into the ground. 

There’s just too much to see and do in our wonderful country and throughout the world. Even being retired doesn’t allow enough time. However, I’m grateful for each experience along life’s highways, byways, and off its beaten track.

…It seems to me that the strangeness & wonder of existence are emphasized here, in the desert…not crowded upon life as in other places but scattered abroad in spareness and simplicity, with a generous gift of space for each herb and bush and tree, each stem of grass, so that the living organism stands out bold and brave and vivid against the lifeless sand and barren rock.

—Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire-A Season in the Wilderness

Alien Country

Rolling down the highway once more, heading west with good friends, JD & Kim. This is their 1st long adventure in their 26-ft Class A. Although we’ve been planning this trip for almost a year, it almost didn’t happen. Kim’s mom passed away 6 days before departure. And a late June tornado caused extensive damage to our C-Class. But we were able to leave all the unfinished business and worries behind and head out on schedule. Thanks be to God who blessed us with much needed strength and perseverance.

Our 1st night in IL we used Harvest Host and planted ourselves at a peaceful farm with only birds to serenade us. The following day found us camping in IA at Palisades-Kepler State Park where we enjoyed a leisurely hike to a river backdropped by tall limestone cliffs. Of course, our agenda required us to investigate Buchanan Winery set amidst rolling hills, farms, and vineyards. The eye catcher—a fabulous late 1800s Victorian house beside the winery. The bonus—tasty wines served by the friendly owner and a picnic on their patio. The day ended with grilled turkey burgers and squash from the farm, followed by a campfire, smores, and brownies. Don’t worry, we’re going to be getting plenty of exercise in the next few days.

Taking I-90, we arrived in the Badlands of South Dakota on the 4th day. We boon-docked (free camping without hookups in the wild) on a high plateau overlooking rugged canyons and tall grass plains. In the quiet before dusk, only the lowing of cattle and the wind moaning through the gulches could be heard. My birthday was celebrated atop this mystical land with Kim’s homemade chili with all the fixings, cornbread, and carrot cake as a full moon rose casting eerie shadows on canyon walls.

Only a few miles north lay the small town of Wall with the world’s largest drug store. Wall Drugs takes up an entire block and is a little touristy, but its uniqueness makes it totally worth a visit. There’s everything from fresh donuts to western art, postcards to sculpture, boots to books, soda shop, large dining room, and yes—a pharmacy.

We had an extraordinary day exploring Badlands National Park, driving the Loop Road where buffalo roamed and prairie dogs popped out of holes. We also hiked its alien landscape along the Windows, Door, and other trails before cooling down inside the Ben Reifel Visitor Center. Its museum-like exhibits taught us about hearty native Lakota and early homesteaders, the land’s surreal geography, and evolution of extinct animals through the study of fossils within this ancient seabed. I even got to watch an anthropologist meticulously scrape away on a fossilized cat skull.

Using Hwy 44 through Buffalo Gap National Grasslands to Hwy 16, we entered Black Hills National Forest. I checked off one of my bucket list items at our next stop, awe-inspiring Mount Rushmore.

Its creation by sculptor, Gutzon Borglum, boggles the imagination—both its size and construction. From 1927-12941 Borglum first made large mock-ups of each face before miners blasted, drilled, and chiseled away 800 tons of granite. This memorial is definitely a monumental tribute to America’s history and four of its greatest presidents: Washington, Jefferson, Teddy Roosevelt, and Lincoln. The excellent visitor’s center provided videos, photos, and sculptures to show the intricacies of this iconic endeavor.

We continued motoring along another portion of Hwy 16 to the Crazy Horse Memorial. Their vast visitor center complex wore us out, but was amazing. It contained 3 wings of a North American Indian museum, delightful artwork, and huge, tempting gift shop. Above its center loomed the still-in-progress mountain carving of Crazy Horse, a memorial to the Lakota people.

We capped off the daylight hours with a jaunt in our jeep along the scenic, challenging Route 87-Needles Hwy. Around every bend were spires, finger-like formations, and the bizarre Eye of the Needle . The narrow, twisty road squeezed through two narrow tunnels blasted in the rocks. Quite the adventure before hot showers, leftovers, and a restful night at nearby Custer State Park.

Ever since Close Encounters of the Third Kind came out, Devil’s Tower has been on my list of “Places to visit.” We navigated Hwy 24 and the Hwy 14 loop on a short scenic detour on our way through WY.

One word came to mind-surreal-as everyone hiked the 1.3 mile Tower Trail that encircled nature’s fantastic sculpture. Formed from molten magma that seeped into sedimentary rock, it cooled, contracted, and fractured into columns. Erosion eventually exposed this massive tower. And yes, I did keep a lookout for friendly aliens as I softly hummed those 5 unforgettable notes—G-A-F-octave lower F-C…

Parting company with Kim and JD was difficult, but they needed to return home to take care of business and work. It’s always fun sharing the joy and excitement of new places with friends. We look forward to more adventures in the coming years. Jerry and I continued our journey into MT and spent a night at one of the loveliest campgrounds I’ve ever been to.

Jim & Mary’s RV Park in Missoula far exceeded my expectations. I felt at home strolling by multiple themed garden areas filled with colorful flowers, shrubs, and whimsical sculptures. Friendly staff, superb restrooms and showers, and laundry room with attached game/puzzle room with library clinched it for me. I’ll be back!

Day 9 Jerry and I arrived at the furthermost point of our western excursion via Hwy 93, then Hwy 35 alongside Flathead Lake. We entered Glacier National Park in northern MT, specifically the West Glacier entrance and landed at Fish Creek Campground beside Lake McDonald. The stunning landscape captivated us, our spirits only slightly dampened by on/off again rain and gray skies.

A minor glitch popped up on our second day—the kayaks didn’t pass inspection by the dog sniffer. It wasn’t drugs they were searching for, but zebra and quagga mussels. We’d never encountered anything like this in the mid-west where you just plop your boat into whatever body of water you like. Not to be disheartened, I spent at least 2 hours scrubbing every inch, inside and out, until they looked like new.

The following day perseverance paid off and we enjoyed lovely weather and an easy paddle beneath a wide Montana sky—until we turned around. After a peaceful picnic on a tiny deserted beach, encompassed by majestic mountains, we lazily slid the kayaks back into crystal clear water. Rounding a rocky point, wind blasted our faces and choppy seas fought against us with each stroke. It took twice as long to return and my arms felt like limp noodles. But it was a memorable day.

I forgot to mention yesterday’s other trial. Since kayaking failed, we took a picturesque tramp from the campground, following the lakeshore to Rocky Point. Our weather app forecast plenty of time before the next rain system moved in. Surprise! They were wrong. We’d just turned back after climbing boulders and admiring the brilliant view when we got hit. I’m not talking sprinkles, but a heavy downpour that lasted the entire 30 min trot back to camp. Unfortunately, our rain jackets were in the RV. Don’t ask me why. The good news—I got my hair thoroughly washed.

There was one final challenge which turned into a blessing. Fish Creek Camp closed, so we had to find another campground. Labor Day weekend had just ended and we were able to obtain a site at Apgar, near the village. The great news was that a paved bicycle trail began here. After setting up camp, we pedaled its gentle slopes, winding through fern-drenched, cedar/hemlock forests to the Flathead River. Then back to Apgar Village where Jerry and I were forced to indulge in scoops of huckleberry and chocolate ice cream. It’s a good thing we only spent 4 days here, or I might still have to be dieting.

A final note: I’d looked forward to the drive on the popular Going-to-the-Sun Road, but we encountered one final roadblock. The entire road up to the lodge was under major reconstruction with all scenic turnouts closed. On our first day we had observed a continuous, slow-moving train of muddy cars jouncing and snaking back down the mountain in late afternoon, and had made the decision—Not worth it. Maybe on our next western adventure.

Our escapades will continue south into the Grand Tetons and some of Utah’s wonderful national parks in my next blog—after the holiday season. Joy & Serenity to the world. See you in 2024.

Climb the mountains & get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees.

John Muir

The Winding Road

With so much to see in South Africa’s diverse land, it was difficult to choose which path to take. Addo Elephant Park turned out to be one of our favorite jaunts. We observed the interactions between several families of elephants at two different watering holes. Each family took a turn plodding down hillside paths with ears waving, trunks swaying, keeping the little ones in line. At the water they slurped, sprayed, and rolled in the muddy ponds. Adorable babies frolicked, even throwing and fetching sticks.

The hierarchy of males was fascinating. Huge bulls sometimes challenged one another for control while protecting their group. While roaming the park’s dusty roads, we came across eland and hartebeest that bounded through the brush, a warthog with babies scurried by, large tortoises lumbered, ostriches sprinted, friendly mongooses stared , and a jackal came close—nice puppy.

Spending the night at Cosmo’s Cuisine Guesthouse, only a ten minute drive from Addo, was quite a luxurious contrast to boat life. Nestled in the heart of the Sundays River Valley, this quaint B&B contained antiques, artwork, a TV for Jerry, and a bathtub full of bubbles for me. Following a pleasurable soak, we enjoyed a tasty traditional dinner in their elegant dining room. For a very reasonable cost we devoured chicken schnitzel smothered in cheese sauce, spinach pasta salad, baked potato and veggies, along with an appetizer and dessert. All accompanied by a bottle of a superb S.A. wine, of course. As if that wasn’t enough food for a week, we stuffed ourselves in the morning with an enormous breakfast. After that I needed a long stroll through Cosmo’s lavish gardens while sipping my cup of tea.

Heading back to Knysna, we detoured to Tsitsikama National Park. We wandered through this spectacular wonderland of forests with 105 species of trees, mountain lakes, tumbling waterfalls, and white sand beaches. Wish we’d had more time to explore, but we did hike along a dramatic rocky coastal trail that was reminiscent of the Northern California coast. Reaching the Storm River, we had to cross a very long suspension bridge that traversed a wide gorge where the river met the sea. Not a fan of high places, especially those that are swinging in a strong breeze, I crept across keeping a firm grip on the cable. More than enough excitement for one day!

On the winding road back through the mountains, we delighted in gorgeous vistas and groups of baboons and monkeys. The countryside varied from green hills to fertile farms, and scattered with hot, dry savannas. Back in Knysna, we provisioned and prepared for the next safe harbor hop to Mossel Bay. See you next time for more South African adventures.

Nature is not God but God revealing the weight of Himself, all His glory, through the looking-glass of nature.

Ann Voskamp

Hocking Hills Pathways

Veering off the ocean path, Jerry, I, and friends shared our first RV road-trip of the season. It was everything I’d envisioned through Indiana’s cold, wet winter. Camping at Hocking Hills State Park in mid-April turned out to be the perfect time—not too crowded or noisy yet. Our semi-private sites backed up to woods in shades of green. *But be sure to book early as this is a very popular park! After setting up camp we reclined in our loungers, breathed deeply, and sipped our glasses of wine. The first thing I noticed was the quiet. This is why we camp. And then, being the “Organizer,” I began planning our hikes for the next 2-1/2 days. The state park and adjoining forest is a hiker’s mecca with trails varying from paved ADA accessible, to difficult climbs. My only concern was what and how much I could do with only being 4 months post total knee replacement.

Our first trek began at the Visitor’s Center located adjacent to the campground. Early morning was cool with spotty drizzle. We crossed A-Frame Bridge and ambled along the Gorge Trail to Upper Falls. *Note: The most popular trails are 1-way, although in the off-season, no worries. Water levels were high after March rains presenting soothing sounds and lovely cascades. Limestone cliffs with sculpted outcrops rose high on both sides as we clambered up and down stone steps and along a portion of the well-maintained Grandma Gatewood/Buckeye Trail. This followed a creek that transmogrified several times into beautiful pools as it wound its way toward Old Man’s Cave where a hermit resided during the early 1800s.

After a campfire and restful night we were excited for the next adventure—tramping to Rock House. Yes, it was up and down even more stone steps constructed for giants, not 5-ft old ladies, but was well worth the effort. From the huge cave room we peered through “windows” that overlooked a gorge with budding trees where birds chirped, seeking partners for nest-building.

The real challenge came as we drew near the gorge floor. A foot-bridge crossing the creek was damaged so we had to cross the water on branches and stones. We scrambled up the muddy incline using hiking sticks, tree roots, and friend’s outstretched hands. By the time we reached the top my quads were complaining and knee was swollen, but I made it! We savored the wide path lined with violets, blue phlox, and lady slippers strolling back to the parking lot.

Yesterday we’d explored the historical section of Logan hoping to visit the Hocking County Historical Society and Museum. It was closed, but set amid a neighborhood of stylish Victorian homes, it intrigued us with glimpses of ancient printing presses, artifacts, and small replicas of steam-powered machinery. Driving around the area we also discovered several restaurants and quaint shops.

So after our hike to Rock House, the afternoon became a downwind sail. We ate a late lunch at The Olde Dutch Restaurant that satisfied our appetites with country cooking. For those unable to choose from their tempting menu, there’s always endless choices from the buffet accompanied by homemade pie. My friend and I recommend the broasted chicken. Afterwards, local wineries beckoned. Our first one, Hocking Hills Winery, was only minutes away. Unfortunately many others had also heard the calling because there was a 30-min wait just for a tasting! So we traveled a narrow country road to Revolution Rockbridge Wine Company and discovered a small, down-to-earth place with some unique varieties—PB&J, cotton candy, and even a few spicy ones!

Evening found us cozied up around a blazing campfire, munching appetizers and sticky s’mores, content to be still after a bustling day. We will definitely return to this new favorite camping area to explore more of its diversified paths, many off the beaten path. Until then, keep trekking.

Lo, then the running water sounds
With gladsome, secret things!
The silent water more abounds,
And more the hidden springs.

Live murmurs then the trees will blend
with all the feathered song;
The waving grass low tribute lend
Earth’s music to prolong.

And thus the great earth I shall hold,
A perfect gift of thine;
Richer by these a thousandfold,
Than if broad lands were mine.

portions from a poem by George MacDonald

Knysna-Heart Of The Garden Route

First off, I apologize for the long lapse between blogs. I haven’t intentionally been ignoring my followers and hopefully you haven’t forgotten me. Life just became extra busy with fall camping excursions, grandkids, and working on my novel—a fictional account incorporating my sailing journey. I’m praying to complete the final draft in 2023 and begin the publishing process. I’ll keep you updated. Besides all of that, I was preparing for a total knee replacement which was done on Dec. 5th. That meant getting everything ready for Christmas ahead of time. I’m thankful to report all went smoothly. I’m in the midst of the long rehabilitation process and am making good progress with strength and endurance. Gaining range of motion back isn’t quite as much fun, but I persevere daily—because when spring arrives I plan to be back out hiking the trails and cycling scenic byways. Sorry for my rambling, but now on to the continuing and captivating saga of our South Africa adventures.

There’s so much more to South Africa than its magnificent wildlife. We soon discovered it’s a country of contrasts and diverse beauty. Sailing from Richard’s Bay we negotiated the swift SW Agulhas current and quick-changing weather windows, seeking sheltered harbors which are few and far between. After a too-long stop in crime-ridden Durban, we moved on to Port Elizabeth and celebrated Christmas with a few cruising friends.

The next weather window allowed us to make Knysna for Wooden Boat Week. The final day of the festival we participated in a sailing parade aboard our friend’s old wooden schooner, Appledore.

The most challenging portion of the hop between safe harbors was navigating through Knysna’s Heads. Twin sandstone promontories flank a rocky channel where many a vessel has met a watery grave. The trick was to stay in the center, wait for an incoming tide and for breaking waves to settle at the entrance.

Once inside the huge protected lagoon we tied alongside a wall at the marina for easy access to explore Knysna’s charming and vibrant art and cultural community. Art galleries, shops, museums, and fresh seafood restaurants were reminiscent of Southern California’s Laguna Beach—my old stomping ground. Although I’m not a fan, the area is famous for its oysters and holds a festival in early July. We did take in a couple of happy hours at the local yacht club where drinks were cheap, food was free, and the locals high-spirited.

Located within the heart of the scenic Garden Route, Knysna sits amid a varied habitat of sea, rivers, marsh, grassland, and fynbos- a covering of low-lying heather-like shrubs found only on South Africa’s tip. There are also forests such as the enchanting emerald green Knysna Forest where it’s rumored the last indigenous elephant roams. The area is also a haven for over 280 species of birds including the long-tailed Knysna Loerie and elusive Narina Trogan, both adorning bright parrot colors.

Of course, no stopover would be complete without a few tramps along the many varied pathways within the town and surrounding countryside. There are hikes atop the Heads with fantastic panoramas; a steep descent to the beach at Noetzie for castle views; wheelchair-accessible strolls at Garden of Eden; plus elephant walks through the forest, and many more. One of historic interest was the 5.6 km Millwood Mine ramble through an old mining town and the damp, dark abandoned gold mine with flashlights. We discovered old machinery and an abundance of snoozing bats. Unfortunately, no shiny gold nuggets. There’s also a small museum and casual tearoom where we sipped a warm cuppa.

Another day we explored more touristy, but intriguing Cango Cave’s cavernous halls where spectacular limestone formations were enhanced with dramatic lighting. The tour we chose only took an hour and wasn’t too strenuous, bypassing the wet, stomach-sliding “Adventure Tour.”

While in Oudtshoorn, the ostrich capital of the world, be sure to stop at one of several breeding farms where you can get up close to these gigantic feathery birds. Quite entertaining!

Our favorite day trip was aboard the narrow-gauge Choo-Tjoe, a steam train that wound through rolling hills dotted with pines and eucalyptus, along picturesque coastline, through tunnels, and clacking across the Kaaimans River Bridge between Wilderness and George.

In George we lunched in a converted dining car at the station before exploring the extensive Outenique Railway Museum. It housed a full-size locomotive and white train car used by the British royal family in 1947. For train enthusiasts there’s also a running model train display and many artifacts dating back to the 1920s.

Many more excursions were had in this delightful southern portion of SA, but these stories will have to wait for my next excerpt—hopefully sent out lots quicker than this one!

Steam Trains

Steam trains
Huffing puffing
Belching smoke coal & steam
Traveling down the railway track
Timeless

by David Wood

Lions, Rhinos, & Zebras, Oh My

From Richards Bay, South Africa, a small group of cruising friends meandered past acres of gum tree farms and through modern and primitive Zulu villages. Strolling dusty paths, natives balanced bundles on heads babies strapped to backs.

Grinning native boys danced as we entered Hluhluwe-Umfolozi game-park, gateway to an ancient world.

Winding through gentle hills where Cape buffalo grazed, we spotted a black rhino wallowing in mud and baboons lazing among star chestnut trees. At the summit of a forest sprawled Hilltop Camp. Our circular rondavul came furnished with the bare necessities plus two geckos on bug patrol. Outside, Jerry and I strolled a footpath within the compound. Fluttering butterflies gathered nectar among flowery foliage; birds chirped and twittered; velvet monkeys romped; and wandering zebras kept the grass mowed.

Our guide, Musie, led a 3-hour night drive in an open-sided Range Rover. The air was still as we searched openings in dense brush with two handheld spotlights. A large porcupine waddled across the 1-lane dirt road. A spotted genet with long swishing tail slunk across a thick branch. An owl hooted and in the distance a bushbaby wailed. Rounding a sharp bend, Musie jammed on the brakes. A huge bull elephant with pointed tusks stood in the road, staring directly at us. Our guide held a finger to his lips. I glanced at Jerry beside me—and screamed! An insect the size of my hand sat perched on his shoulder. The elephant’s ears flared a warning. The alien pest was batted off, but I brushed my own shoulders several times in case there were others. Everyone held their breath as Musie slowly backed up the vehicle. Hathi’s ears drooped and he moved into the bush, more concerned with munching than trampling us. Less eventful encounters included small groups of Roan antelope and elands. The finale was observing a lion and two coy lionesses. He tried attracting the first female, but she just swished her tail and ignored him. The other swatted his cheek. Not in the mood. Rejected, the king of the jungle plopped down in the high grass settling for a nap.

The next morning’s 6a.m. drive with new guide, Welcome, was even more amazing. Wide rivers snaked through an open savanna dotted with umbrella thorn trees and baobab, which I call upside down trees because their massive trunks are topped with root-like branches. Roaming wildlife included herds of elegant impala, cute steenbok with tiny horns and large ears, majestic kudu with long twisty horns, zebras, and African buffalo. A pair of warthogs trotted across low grass and flopped into a muddy waterhole a short distance from a few rhinos. The wooded savanna presented a shy giraffe, chattering monkeys, and the flash of a leopard sprinting through underbrush.

The early morning drive whetted our appetite for more close encounters. Jerry and I drove to a hide, a shelter with seats and a narrow horizontal opening to observe animals without them seeing us. Hundreds of circular grass bird nests hung from low limbs over a wide pond. Bright yellow weavers with black markings busily wove new ones. Kingfishers supervised, swallows swooped, frogs croaked, and small red duiker quenched their thirst in the momentary safety, ready to leap away at the slightest threat.

Our 5:30a.m. bushwalk in the cool African morning made me feel more vulnerable. We really were on safari! Our rifle-toting guide led the group single-file through the bushveld. We traipsed barely discernible paths with a mix of paw/hoof prints and scat, tall grass past our knees, where silvery buffalo thorn, fragrant bushwillow, and tall jackalberry grew. Vultures circled in the distance. An eagle soared. Giraffe peered warily and a group of gazelles with long curvy horns sprinted away. We quietly stepped past a grazing herd of wildebeest, not wanting to disturb these powerful animals. Nonchalant zebra peeked from the bushes as we tramped the trail back to civilization.

This National Geographic adventure was way too short, but sparked the desire for much more exploration of this diverse and delightful country. We were thankful to be given glimpses of the Big 5: Lion, leopard, rhinoceros, elephant, and African buffalo—and so much more—A look at how God intended the natural world to be, its creatures roaming free, nature in harmony.

All I have seen teaches me to trust the Creator for all I have not seen.

—Ralph Waldo Emerson

South Africa Crossing

Richard’s Bay welcomed White Dove to S. Africa during their worst storm in 16 years. I will only say at this point, “We made it!”

Sailors consider this crossing to be one of the most dangerous in the world. Its 5.8mph warm current runs south along the country’s eastern coast. When strong winds oppose the Agulhas current, it can produce monstrous, boat-breaking swells, like the picture shown above. We’re talking up to 50-feet! Getting updated weather reports is a necessity. We kept a ham radio schedule twice a day with friends on Appledore and checked in on the S. African net with Tony and Allister for changing conditions and the progress of other cruisers. It gave a teensy bit of security amid these turbulent seas.

The first 5 days out from Reunion we made excellent progress under mostly clear skies, 10-20 knot breezes, and 1-2 meter seas. Our third day, east of Madagascar, was extraordinary. Relaxing beneath light-wind sails, we first spotted eight 20-ft black false killer whales spouting and feeding. A short time later we came within 40 feet of a pod of dark blue-gray sperm whales. Lined up and floating on the surface, just chilling. Perhaps napping after lunch? For the remainder of the afternoon we kept a close eye out, not wanting to disturb these magnificent creatures. Lots of spouting in the distance, but no more close encounters.

The second half of our voyage proved less than idyllic. Winds continually shifted in speed and direction. One night our spinnaker pole came crashing down. Thankfully not on anyone’s head. However, it was out of commission, along with our lapper that ripped along a seam. Other yachts experienced similar incidents due to uncomfortable 3-4-meter swells on our beams and running with too much sail. Squalls became our constant companion. Reports sounded hopeful that a developing low would stay well south of our destination. The southerly winds were light as we approached the 50-mile wide Agulhas current. The world’s second swiftest , it can interact with low pressure over land, intensifying and spawning secondary lows.

And that’s what occurred during our final 24 hours. Two lows collided! Gale force winds, gusting to 60mph, created huge confused seas with frothy volcanic peaks. During our two years of travel, I’d never seen the ocean look like that. Torrential rain severely reduced visibility.

Believe me, it looked nothing like the pictures above as we crept toward the breakwater entrance. I continuously plotted our position while Jerry steered, ready to turn around if conditions worsened. No breaking surf—so we glided between buoys and entered the harbor. Breathing great sighs of relief, we navigated to the small-craft basin where friends helped us tie to the dock.

Captain Charlie and Appledore’s crew waiting outside the port

We were the last boat to squeak in safely before the Port Captain closed the port! For 3 days several cruising friends plus large commercial vessels had to anchor or heave-to in dangerous conditions. A couple of boats sank, but no lives were lost. Praise the Lord!

Local papers reported severe flooding which caused a dam to break. That washed out bridges and led to extensive damage. Included was an alligator farm where lucky captives fled back into the wild!

A week after the near-cyclone we celebrated a late Thanksgiving with Charlie, his wife Heather, their crew, and other cruising friends. We gave thanks for gathering in a safe harbor and the miracle of no injuries or major boat damage. After a few days of R&R and some provisioning, we’d be ready to explore. Anyone up for a safari?

Indian Ocean Crossing—Reunion

Drifting without human charts through light & dark, calm & storm, I have come to so glorious an ocean—John Muir

Last stop of our Indian Ocean westward crossing found us side-tied 3 boats deep to a battered wharf in the noisy, smelly working harbor of Port Galet. We clambered over each yacht before facing the challenging climb up make-shift ladders of rope and chain. The good news? We got to meet our neighbors plus had access to fresh water!

French-owned Reunion is a sub-tropical volcanic rock island country. Our visit was part pleasure/part work. The first day was spent beneath a sweltering sun trudging to the small town of La Possession where we caught a bus into St. Denis, the capital. Located on the northwest coast, it held a mixture of historic and modern architecture, museums, gardens, and various ethnic restaurants and shops. Its varied races and cultures co-existed in harmony, demonstrated by the tolerance of a Catholic cathedral, Muslim mosque, Tamil temple, and Protestant church all within blocks of each other. Our focus lay in obtaining tourist maps and brochures, fresh produce, and of course, a French staple—baguettes. We lunched at Le Roulette trucks amongst a flowering park of centenary trees. Restful seascape and majestic vistas of mountain peaks made me reflect on native writer/artist, Leon Dierx, christened “the prince of poets” by French peers in 1898. He attended college in France and eventually made it his home.

The following two days Jerry and I slogged our way through chores and projects, preparing White Dove for the 10-day voyage to South Africa. Nearing that continent can prove treacherous due to strong-flowing currents, unpredictable winds, and fast-changing weather—as you’ll discover in my next episode! Our main projects: Spreading out the lapper, our largest sail, and repairing its seams with sail tape before wrestling it inside the boat and through our sewing machine; Rerouting the luff lines; engine maintenance; securing all gear inside and out; organizing and preparation of meals. All fun while sweating profusely!

Then it was time to play. Arising at 4am, we caught the 6:15 bus from Le Port. Since most passengers were French, the driver/tour guide spoke French. But that didn’t deter from interpreting the captivating scenery as we passed rugged coastline, turned inland through farmland, then winded past charming European-style villages as we ascended into the Cirques—three natural amphitheaters formed as the inside of Piton des Nieges collapsed, then further through erosion. It was a drive to remember. The one-lane mountain road spun us through S-curves and horseshoe bends. Dark tunnels had only inches to spare on both sides. The only thing between us and sheer drop-offs were short curbs. Many prayers were invoked on that ride. But exhilarating panoramas of deep canyons cut by rivers, tumbling waterfalls, green valleys, and rugged mountains with Yosemite-like granite cliffs helped cloak the dangers.

Arriving in Cilaos, the mountain air was sweet and refreshing. Besides therapeutic thermal waters and baths, this quaint village offered wineries, cafes, hiking and mountain biking through dusky conifer forests, and lovely Roche-Merveilleuse Botanical Path. We picnicked beneath scented mimosas and tamarinds des hauts, a tree endemic to Reunion. Feasting on local bread, cheese, fruit, and wine, a freshly-baked strawberry tart was the grand finale.

Another day we shared a rental car with cruising friends from Appledore and Horizon to explore the south-eastern portion of the country. We crossed high plains with plantations of sugarcane, vanilla, and coffee; farms growing garlic, chou chou-a tuber vegetable, saffron crocus which produces the costly spice, nutritious goyavier berries, and rosat geraniums whose leaves are distilled to make essential oils. Our main focus was hiking Piton de la Fournaise, meaning furnace peak. Le Volcan is one of the world’s most active volcanoes. Unfortunately, by the time we reached road’s end, where stony trails began, clouds and cold rain enshrouded us. We descended back to Volcano House where we partially satisfied our curiosity of the alien landscape in their theater watching videos of awesome volcanic eruptions, plus enjoying displays of photos and paintings throughout the museum.

Further down we explored Plaine des Sables-Sand Plain. Through misty barren moonscape sat clusters of odd-shaped red scoria from recent lava spews and boulders scattered among the reddish-brown sand and gravel.

Along the south and eastern coastline tradewinds carry rain to magnificent colonial estates hidden within orchards, winding paths through cryptomeria forests, and gardens of white arum lilies. Lava flows occasionally interrupt this lush landscape. We climbed around a large, 2-year-old flow at Pointe-de-la-Table. This river of porous rocks in shades of red, golden brown, steel gray, and black snaked into the ocean. Only the roaring sea and cries of gulls broke the otherworldly silence.

Wish we’d had time for more activities on this island gem. There’s adventures for all fitness levels:

Canyoning- For more advanced daredevils, canyons beckoned for climbing, rappelling, kayaking, rafting, and waterfall jumping!

A hiker’s paradise for everyone from ramblers to high-peak mountain climbers, with countless footpaths and two major trails through Grande Randonnee.

Horse-trekking- A unique mode of exploration on the back of a gentle Merens horse, imported from the Pyrenees in France.

There’s also catapulting down mountain bike trails, soaring from a para-glider, and all types of ocean sports.

For now I say adieu, and leave you with portions of “October Evening” a poem by Reunion native, Leon Dierx.

A tremor slides from the hill-slopes down to the plains...
A tremor of night passes on to the country lanes...
Under a chilly gust the songs grow soft,
Afar the sound of singing and laughter dies.
In the dense mist rising up as a breath uncurls...
Its farewell sighs where the dark wood shakes in dread—
It shakes in dread and the dry leaf eddying whirls,
Whirls and falls on paths that no feet tread.

Indian Ocean Crossing—Mauritius

Time is a relentless river. It rages on, respecter of no one. This is the only way to slow time: When I fully enter time’s swift current, enter into the current moment with the weight of all my attention, I slow the torrent by being all here. I only live the full life when I live fully in the moment—Paraphrased from “A Thousand Gifts—Ann Voskamp

Arriving in Mauritius at the end of October brought an unexpected pleasure—the Hindu Diwali Festival. Clay lamps flickered nightly, creating a mystical ambience to the aptly named, Festival of Lights. Dancers and singers entertained for 5 days. Even the Mauritius Police Band got in on the act, performing a mixture of traditional, American pop, and jazz. There was even tap-dancing and a little Sega—indigenous music, singing, and hip-swaying dances, derived from African slave days.

The sheltered harbor of Port Louis lay within a semi-circle of mountains providing a calm anchorage.

This capital and main port buzzed with traffic and people like a disturbed bee hive. But on the plus side, there were several charming 18th century French colonial buildings and a huge Central Market offered scrumptious fresh veggies and fruits. You just had to tolerate loud, obnoxious vendors jockeying to sell their wares. Within the chaos women wove through the hordes of shoppers balancing full baskets on their heads. One day of wandering led us past a strolling Indian wedding party. Attractive women dressed in gorgeous vibrant saris smiled shyly while their beautiful children stared inquisitively with humongous dark eyes. Men shook our hands, greeting us in French Creole and a smattering of heavily accented English, treating us like old friends, then passed out small individually-wrapped cakes.

Although nights were pleasantly cool, days were hot and humid. We rented a car with cruising friends to explore the island. A layer of soot had covered our boat since arrival. Along our route we discovered the reason—burning sugarcane fields, preparing for harvest. The leaves and tops would be removed and only the stalk harvested. This island country, encompassed by spectacular coral, teemed with sea life within the reef and was a deep-sea fisherman’s paradise outside. Three rugged mountain ranges exhibited fascinating basalt formations, while a central plateau , crisscrossed by rivers, streams, and waterfalls, held an extinct volcano. There were also several nature parks, including Black River Gorges National Park for varied hikes and birdwatching.

Echo parakeet-Josh Noseworthy/Wikimedia

Keep your eyes sharp for Mauritian pink pigeons, kestrels, and especially the rare Echo parakeets. Their vibrant emerald-green can blend into the foliage of the eucalyptus, palms, and pandanus. There’s also Pamplemousses, with world-renowned gardens of indigenous and exotic plants, including giant Victoria Amazonica water lilies and the Talipot palm which only flowers and fruits once in about 60 years…then dies!

Sprawling communities and plantations dotted the landscape with a mix of wealthy and poor, modern and traditional. Textiles were one of the main industries, but sugar, tea, vanilla, and flower plantations also provided jobs and goods for export. At Le Domaine de l’ Ylang Ylang in Vieux Grand Port, canaga trees produced yellow, star-shaped flowers which they distilled into perfumes and essential oils. Ylang ylang’s sweet floral fragrance had hints of custard, bananas, jasmine, neroli, honey, and earthy, and is used to combat depression, anxiety, and high blood pressure, plus stimulate hair growth and repel insects.

We toured this prolific tea plantation, including its museum and factory, to observe the step-by-step process of tea-making. Afterwards we savored tea and biscuits atop a mountain over-looking the plantation and its lovely lake.

Stopping at a few of the many scenic lookouts, we were greeted by hordes of long-tailed macaques. These intelligent monkeys foraged among the trash cans, emitting high-pitched squeals when we didn’t contribute to their next meal. Not a good place for a picnic as they can get a bit aggressive!

We also passed vanilla plantations and anthurium greenhouses that thrived in the tropical climate. This gorgeous plant has bright-red glorified leaves with a yellow spadix. The spike is the actual flower. Who’d guess?

Grand Bassin—A Hindu holy place of pilgrimage. This natural lake, largest in the country, lays within a volcanic crater. Scattered among the paved walkways were elaborate shrines and glowing golden statues.

Last stop of the day was at Chamarel where we followed pathways among the Colored Earths, reminiscent of Arizona’s Painted Desert. The undulating layers of red, yellow,blue, and brown cast a subtle magic over the area. A nearby waterfall emerged amidst the moors and primeval vegetation. As the sun slowly sank, colors of the earth melted into purplish hues. A perfect ending to an amazing day in this little-known country afloat in the middle of the Indian Ocean.