120. Durban and the Drakensbergs
22 December 2014
Our introduction to Durban - the busiest port in South Africa, was hardly auspicious. We had been instructed by Port Control to follow a container ship into the harbour, but a short way up the channel she suddenly slowed right down: we suspect she may have grounded. Anyway, she started to move astern and only just avoided being swept onto the eastern harbour arm with the help of a tug boat. The controller told us keep clear because of 'a problem', rather vaguely instructing us to move towards the land, so we headed to the western side of the channel, which he confirmed would be alright. The ship was now square across the harbour mouth and we expected her to turn to port towards the harbour, but instead she started to move ahead with her rudder hard over to starboard and engine on full revs, turning back out to sea. Despite being outside the line of buoys, we were now directly in her path, and all we could do to get out of the way was aim for her stern. She gave a single blast on her horn and passed within 50 meters, churning the mud up with her propellers as she scraped over the bank. The controller was obviously relieved to see us pop out the other side and called up to apologise, but not a word was heard from the pilot or master of the ship.
Happily, things rapidly improved on reaching the marina. We were spoilt for choice by free membership of two yacht clubs, one on each side of the marina. Point Yacht Club let us use their showers, wifi, bar and cafeteria, whereas the Royal Natal Y.C., founded in 1858, has the better restaurant - the Sunday lunch buffet being the big attraction. We were greeted by Bob Fraser, the port officer of the Ocean Cruising Club, who bought us drinks at the P.Y.C. and regaled us with stories from his long life of sailing and travel. Our berth was near the end of a 300m long walkway, but we didn't mind as the air was fresher and the water cleaner than closer in; and the walk gave our legs some much needed exercise. We had good views around the port, so could watch the comings and goings of passenger liners, container ships and car transporters. South Africa is a big manufacturer of vehicles, and train-loads of them trundled over the level crossing at the marina entrance each day on their way to the docks. Tripper boats came by every hour or so, invariably with a happy crowd of local people - perhaps an office party - dancing and singing along to loud music. The yacht clubs combine forces for sailing activities, and watching the Flying Fifteens and dinghies going out racing made us feel at home. We counted 22 yachts on the start line for the last midweek evening race before Christmas.
Durban Marina is located beside the Esplanade near the centre of the city. Large 60s apartment blocks line the opposite side of the road, interspersed by a few architectural gems from the turn of the last century. The area has declined, but the authorities are now trying to smarten it up again by insisting that landlords refurbish their buildings and remove undesirable people. The city has gained an unfortunate reputation for crime and violence, in part because of illegal immigrants and drug gangs from other parts of Africa and Asia. The marina itself seems secure, as the gates are guarded and pontoons patrolled night and day by cheerful marina staff. Much of the city is safe to walk around during the day and we were told which areas to avoid. We could buy basic provisions in small shops along the Esplanade, but for larger shopping expeditions we took a taxi to a mall. When we needed to buy things for the boat, David, the owner of the chandlery, gave us a lift in his car. On the return journey he insisted on throwing in a tour of the seafront and Umhlanga Rocks - an up and coming business and residential district.
Our priority whilst in Durban was to make a tour inland to the Drakensberg Mountains. We stopped en route at the spot where Nelson Mandela was captured by police in 1962 whilst operating underground during the struggle against apartheid. A commemorative sculpture entitled "the Long Walk to Freedom" has been erected, in time for the first anniversary of his death. It is made up of an array of fifty steel columns, 10m tall with laser cut edges that, when viewed from one particular point, form an image of the great man's face. A visitors' centre is under construction, but the temporary museum inside an old barn with words and pictures illustrating his life seems touchingly appropriate. We drove on through rolling countryside and small towns until we reached the foothills of the long range of mountains. On the far side lies the Kingdom of Lesotho, accessible only by foot over lofty passes. We had booked to stay for two nights in a cabin within the World Heritage Park at Giant's Castle, at a height of 1,700m above sea level.
Next morning, with gloriously clear weather, we set out on a 16km circular walk -following the Bushman's River to the Langalibalele Ridge, around the contour path at 2,250m and returning via the Bannerman Track. We were rewarded by beautiful scenery: rocky crags, towering cliffs, slopes covered in wild flowers and cascading streams running down a series of valleys. We spotted a number of elands, a large species of antelope, and several families of baboons. The many birds included kites, swifts, sunbirds and yellow breasted cape robin chats. Baboons are a bit of a nuisance in the camp. When we drew the curtains the first morning we saw one sitting on the table on our veranda, and a bit later we spotted a hairy hand reaching out to pull open the sliding door, just in time to shoo it away! The little dassy (rock hyrax) that grazed on the lawns and climbed trees to eat young leaves was much more endearing. (Unlikely as it may seem, its closest relative is said to be the elephant!) On our last morning, with the peaks shrouded by low cloud, we walked to the 'main caves', where a guide showed us rock paintings and explained how the hunter-gathering San People (or Bushmen) lived.
Back in Durban, we walked to the city centre to see some of the attractions. The Natural Science Museum, within the City Hall, captivated us with its comprehensive collection of stuffed animals set in realistic habitats. We learnt that over 1,000 rhinos were killed by poachers last year, driven by demand from Vietnam. The horn is more valuable than gold per kilogramme. On the next floor, an art gallery displays some appealing examples of contemporary African art. For a more down-to-earth look at local talent in action, we called at the BAT Centre for art, culture and music. Another museum - the Kwa Muhle - celebrates twenty years of freedom and democracy. It occupies the premises of the hated Native Affairs Department, which held the power to issue blacks with permits to remain in Durban and seek work during the apartheid era. The old railway terminus building is now the tourist information centre, the train shed is a gym and the engine workshops - constructed with wrought iron beams from Middlesbrough - is a mall. Outside, there are lively public spaces with street traders, music and even Saturday morning aerobics.
We and a dozen or so other crews were constantly scrutinising the weather for a chance to continue our journeys towards Cape Town. The next leg would be the furthest between safe harbours, past a featureless coastline with neither headlands nor bays to offer refuge from strong south-westerly winds and the steep seas that would be generated in the Agulhas Current. We needed a minimum of 48 hours to reach East London, the nearest port down the coast, but prospective windows that looked good a week ahead kept shrinking as departure day approached. We waited, and waited and waited!