Alison Stocker | Photo: SV Deo Juvante with warships beyond in Djibouti anchorage
Well, thanks to my earlier plot-spoiler, you know that we survived the second half of our passage and, more significantly, made it safely through the Gulf of Aden and past the coast of Somalia. Was this trip without incident? No, but nothing too dramatic. Most of what I will be reporting was only notable because of our heightened sense of tension due to our location.
When we sailed to New Zealand for the first time, it was only once we had safely arrived that we realized quite how tense we had been about the passage. The typical interval between low-pressure weather systems in that area is shorter than the duration of a passage from Tonga to New Zealand, so we were constantly somewhat anxious about what unpleasant weather might catch us on the way.
Arriving safely in Djibouti, we had a very similar feeling of relief as we did in making landfall in New Zealand. The difference was that on this passage towards the Somali coast and through the Gulf of Aden, we were very much aware all of the time of our anxiety about security. This meant that every encounter with a vessel that was not a huge cargo ship or tanker, triggered a much more suspicious response that usual.
Our first such encounter was on Day 12 when we were about 50 nm from the eastern tip of the Yemini Island of Socotra and 200 nm from the entrance to the Gulf of Aden. Four mid-sized fishing boats appeared on the horizon heading southward. We could track them with the AIS and they were steadily moving at about 7 knots and were spaced about 1-2 nm apart. They were crossing our path and although we would be able to avoid each vessel, we did not know whether they were towing anything or if there was anything between them. Calling on VHF 16 we got the response of "no speaking English" which was fair enough. Feeling particularly cautious, we did not want to go between them. We could not get ahead of the leading vessel and turning right we would have to tack and go backwards before the last boat went past. Instead, we back-winded the jib and hove-to for about 20 minutes and just drifted until the last boat had gone past, then continued on our way.
Our next fishing boat encounter, we think, was about 20 boats on the southern horizon as we were approaching the mouth of the Gulf of Aden and the start of the shipping separation channels or IRTC. According to Wikipedia, "the International Recommended Transit Corridor is a shipping route through the Gulf of Aden that is patrolled against pirates by international naval forces. The IRTC is 490 nautical miles (910 km) long and 20 nautical miles (37 km) wide." We reached the IRTC on Day 14, when we saw several boats that looked similar to the fishing boats that had crossed our path earlier. They were moving eastward, parallel to us and most of them were towing smaller speedboats with high prows. One of these latter boats with a single person aboard, crossed our path quite a distance ahead of us, heading north. We watched it with binoculars until we were quite convinced that it was not going to approach us. Again, an incident that would normally be unremarkable, created a moment of tension as we tried not to think about pirates and kidnappers.
AIS icons for cargo ships and tankers entering and leaving the IRTC in the traffic separation lanes (pale purple boxes which are 5 nm wide) with us (dark boat shape in the middle) between them ( the dotted lines in front of the ship icons show their path relative to us for the next two hours)
Similarly, on Day 15 when a small, local cargo boat made a diagonal crossing of the IRTC from northeast to southwest and was aiming straight for us, it got our attention. Using small speedboats coming from a bigger mother vessel was the pirates' typical mode of operation, so it was rather disturbing that the boat remained on a collision course as it entered the separation zone. It was one of the few times that we were running with the engine, so I put Tregoning in neutral to slow us down. The cargo boat continued on its course, passing across our bow without any hesitation, and I started to breath again.
The small cargo boat that was determined to cross our bow
And then things really got weird...
Early on Day 18, we received a message via Iridium Go from Wayne on CathayOz. They were with a fleet of five boats who had left the Maldives together (several days after us) and were now only about 100 nm behind us. One boat in their group had received a message from the MSCHOA (Marine Security Center - Horn of Africa) warning of a report of suspicious activity around location "A". This was a bit disturbing on two counts. Firstly, we did not receive such a message despite sending our position reports to MSCHOA twice daily, and secondly, we did not know where "A" was. Was it behind us or still ahead?
Around 9 am, an Orion (maritime surveillance) aircraft flew over us and we were hailed on VHF 16 by them, the Japanese Coalition Naval aircraft. They reported that they were flying over the IRTC and if we had any problems we should hail them or the nearest warship on VHF 16. We had received a similar message a couple of nights previously from one of the unseen warships (they do not use AIS for obvious reasons). Both times we confirmed that we had received the message and that all was well with us. But this time, we asked the plane crew if they knew anything about the warning of suspicious activity that we had heard about second-hand from Wayne. They did not really respond to this, so we left it. A few minutes later however, we heard the aircraft calling a warship, who identified themselves as an Indian warship. The aircraft crew asked them if they were aware of any suspicious activity, and they answered that they were not.
This was reassuring in the sense that there were aircraft and warships in the area, and they were aware of our presence. It was less reassuring that there was not necessarily good coordination between these units and the security agencies to whom we reported our position. Randall subsequently sent an email message to the MSCHOA asking them about the warning and why we did not receive it. It turned out that the report was based on observations from a commercial ship of multiple speedboats near the entrance of the IRTC. These were probably the same, or similar to, the boats that we had assumed were fishing boats, that we had seen a few days earlier. The main point for us was that we were well passed this area.
The reason we did not receive the warning was because MSCHOA does not contact ships directly with such warnings but sends them to the land-based security contact that was designated on registration with MSCHOA. For commercial ships this would result in a call to the ship from their land-based security contact. Since we do not have a land-based security company, we should have provided our Iridium Go email address. Instead, not realizing that this related to the forwarding of warning messages, we had given them our land-based email address (which is inaccessible while at sea). Randall had gleaned much of the information about contacting the security services in this area from the Red Sea Facebook Group run by fellow cruiser Wade. This site is accessed by review only, so your request to join is vetted before you can be included (to try to keep the bad guys out). The information has been very helpful and Wade is providing a magnificent service to the cruising community. Randall will send him a message suggesting that cruisers are advised to provide their at-sea contact information instead of land-based contact when registering with MSCHOA.
Thus, after a few hours of angst about whether we were leaving, or heading into, the area of suspicious activity, we were relieved to learn that it was the former and probably not a significant problem. But this was not the end of our non-routine communications with the security agencies.
On Day 19, Randall received an Iridium Go message from Rob (our dairy dessert consultant from SV Avant) saying that he had been watching our progress on PredictWind and had seen us make a sudden 90 degree change in direction and slow right down on 4th March. Worried that this might be the result of us being boarded, he had phoned UKMTO (UK Maritime Trade Organization) to report his concern. They had phoned us via Iridium around midnight but we did not have the phone connected to the Iridium system at that time so missed the call. When Randall saw these messages and missed call at 6 am, he quickly sent emails both to Rob and UKMTO thanking them for their alert responses and reassuring them that all was well with us.
Later communications revealed that UKMTO had requested a ship (we are not sure if a commercial or warship) to detour slightly to look for us. Apparently, they came within 3-4 nm and reported that we seemed to be progressing just fine. Exactly how much they could see from that distance I suppose depends upon what sort of surveillance equipment they had aboard. We can only assume that the apparent 90 degree turn, followed soon after by another turn back, was a glitch with the GPS, Iridium GO, or PredictWind systems because at that time we were steadily sailing downwind on a pretty straight line within the separation zone. We were very appreciative of Rob's diligence, and it was a sobering reminder that we were not the only people a bit anxious about our passage through this tricky area.
Six hours after we missed the call from UKMTO, we left the shipping channels behind. The channel made a big turn to the north to approach the mouth of the Red Sea, while we continued straight on towards Djibouti. Crossing the 5-nm-wide south- and then east-bound lane required some attention as there were five ships that could have potentially come close to us, but, luckily, we were able to pass between them without changing course and speed.
By that night (Sunday), we were getting close enough to Djibouti to see the glow of city lights on the horizon. There were also a number of boat lights in every direction other than behind us. These boats did not show upon the AIS, and many of them did not appear on radar but given the proximity to our destination and their concentration over shallower areas, it seemed likely that they were small, local, wooden fishing boats. We kept an eye on them hoping that none approached us, and happily none did.
It made us realize that during our days in the traffic separation zone, we had not had to worry about fishing boats, nets, or crab traps, a pleasant change after the crowded inshore waters of Indonesia and Malaysia. The passage of many large ships on either side of us (westbound ships to the north or our right and eastbound the south or our left), was somehow comforting. Although there was not much that they could do if we were confronted, under which circumstances we would presumably have to rely on a high-speed launch from whichever warship was closest, it felt as though we were cocooned within the shipping channel.
As dawn arrived, the strings of lights ahead of us faded into a low, dark, hazy mound of land just visible above the horizon and we burst into a very happy rendition of our "Land Ho!" song. Approaching closer to Djibouti, we could distinguish some of the many ships anchored offshore as well as various naval vessels. On the VHF, we heard a French warship talking to an Italian warship (they do not use names or numbers just nationalities to distinguish warships here), asking them to keep their distances as they were "hunting for mines". Since we could not see where the ships were on the AIS, but they had to be close enough for us to hear on the radio, this was a little surprising but we assumed that the channel into the harbor was likely to be clear.
We were followed in by a large French warship and were quite impressed by the number of different naval ships of various nationalities were tied up at the dock. High-speed inflatables with armed crews were making sure that no one came too close to these ships, and periodically military helicopters flew over. It felt as though we had arrived in a multinational version of Norfolk, Virginia (one of the main navy bases in the US). A large proportion of Djibouti's national income is provided by various nations paying to have military bases there.
Military watercraft and aircraft in and over Djibouti Harbor
It was a delight to recognize former rally boats Deo Juvante (Eugenie and Paul) and Eucalypt I (George) in the anchorage and we happily anchored Tregoning between them. There were three other boats that we vaguely recognized so it was a very reassuring feeling to be in the company of other cruisers. Eugenie and Paul were about to leave for the Red Sea so we were pleased to have a chance for a brief chat and we will hope to catch up with them if they linger in Suakin, Sudan, about half-way along the Red Sea. We had not considered stopping at this port ourselves until Rupert on SV Southern Cross called us on the VHF radio as he passed us on day 14. He was delivering the boat to Turkey so was not stopping at Djibouti, but he highly recommended a stop at Suakin, just south of Port Sudan. It is possible to wait there for suitable weather to make the passage through the northern half of the Red Sea to the Suez Canal, usually tacking into opposing winds.
As we turned off the engine at 9:42 am in Djibouti harbor, the feeling of relief to have successfully crossed the Indian Ocean and made it through the Gulf of Aden was tremendous. Of the 457 hours of the passage from Uligamu, we had motored for 36 or just under 8%. It actually did not feel that much, especially when we were drifting and resisting the temptation to start the engine. But we arrived needing only to replace about 60L (about 15 gallons) of diesel, which was pretty good. Most of the motoring had been around Days 14 and 15 when we were approaching and first in the IRTC when there was very little wind. Previously, we had been able to sail in light winds using Nevil (asymmetrical spinnaker) but that required being able to sail in whatever direction kept the wind about 120 degrees off the bow. After entering the IRTC we had to maintain a straight course within the 2-nm-wide separation zone where the wind direction was around 150 to 180 degrees off the bow. However, we were able to sail downwind with just a double reefed mainsail and Susie (the self-steering windvane) coped remarkably well despite 2 - 2.5 m (6 to 9 feet) following waves moving our stern around.
In fact, all the systems on Tregoning behaved well. We had no problems with the sails, steering, power generation, and engine, a welcome change after all the repairs needed between Langkawi and Galle. The only incident was that on Day 15 the starboard lazy-jack broke at its small block about half-way up the mast. The lazy-jacks are thin lines that help to keep the mainsail confined when it is lowered. They also hold up the sides of the on-boom sail-bag. This broken line meant that the starboard side of the sail-bag was hanging down which was not a problem while it was on the leeward side in light winds but might not be good if winds picked up to 20 knots as forecast.
Top: The collapsed starboard side of the sail-bag
Bottom: The port side showing how the sail-bag should look
We probably could have used sail-ties to secure the bag but while the wind was still fairly light, we decided to rethread the remaining line through the block. This required hoisting me about half-way up the mast, a process that was much aided by our electric winch handle. We had to time the lifts between rolls of the waves so that I could cling onto the mast when it was swinging around. Once at the block, however, it was a very quick fix, and I was lowered down again within just a few minutes of starting the whole operation and with a minimal number of bruises.
Tregoning's mast after we had fixed the lazy-jack, with the arrow pointing to the tiny block through which I had to rethread the broken line
The tension of the passage between Somalia and Yemen was certainly eased by the good sailing conditions. Nature also provided us with some moments of joy such as when red-billed tropicbirds circled above, wedge-tailed shearwaters swooped ahead of us, and a masked booby standing on a floating item bobbed past. One afternoon, I was alarmed to hear the roar of an outboard engine rapidly approaching from behind us, only to be delighted to see the distant splashing of a huge pod of dolphins racing along parallel to us. It was remarkable how loud the noise was considering that they must have been a mile or two away. And just before we entered the IRTC, a pod of about 20 small black whales crossed our path. With various sizes and shapes to the dorsal fins, I think that they were short-finned pilot whales, the first whales that we have seen in many months.
A masked booby appearing to stand on water
With such a long, occasionally tense, passage finally completed, it would be understandable if we had turned off Tregoning's engine and taken nice long naps. However, our enthusiastic agent Ahssan (who likes to be called Phoenix) had other plans. Arriving in a launch within minutes of our anchor being set, he was ready to get us cleared into Djibouti. With CathayOz and four other boats expected to arrive mid-afternoon, we were lucky to have his undivided attention for a few hours, so naptime was going to have to be postponed...but more of our adventures ashore in Djibouti later!
P.S. If you are wondering whether I had an anxiety-tune stuck in my head during this passage, I am pleased to report that with Randall practicing on the guitar many afternoons I was able to maintain a pleasing medley of several songs. The three that seemed most prominent and relevant were: "What's Up" (Four Non-Blonds), "End of the Line" (Traveling Wilburys), and of course, "I will Survive" (Gloria Gaynor).