20th April 2010 Khor el Marob 21 deg 50' N, 36 deg 51' E Crystal clear water, desert mountains, coral reefs, diving, snorkeling, white sand beaches, north winds. This is the Sudan coast. We are sailing/motoring along the edge of the Nubian desert, anchoring in beautiful marsas and trying to manage the north winds. The marsas are narrow reef fringed bays protruding into the desert. Here at Khor el Morab there is a small settlement a mile or two away and the road runs past the end of the marsa. This is the first settlement we have been near since Port Sudan, the desert has been truly deserted. Sounds travel in the clear morning air, trucks sound like they are very close, the rooster this morning could have been on our rail. One morning anchored at Taila Island we were about a mile or so from the mainland and were woken by a braying donkey, no houses in sight but someone was up and about at sunrise.

Most days the wind builds during the day then falls out at night, the marsa becoming mirror calm. At night the ink black sky is sprinkled with shining stars, the sliver of new moon sparkles across the water before it dips down behind the mountains. One night at Khor Shinab after the moon disappeared, the stars reflected on the still water. We had never seen this before.

Khor Shinab is a huge marsa, 3 miles long and quite deep until the anchorage at the end. The marsa could fit a fleet of ships and have room to spare. We walked up Quion hill to be rewarded with a splendid view of Khor Shinab, a blue ribbon of water winding through the desert. The view inland was just as good, over salt plain out to sand and hills of different shapes and colours. Quion hill is 59 metres and must have once been under the sea, near the top I picked up a piece of fossilized shell. I also souvenired a piece of marble and a shiny black rock, obsidian, we think.

Sudan has been a mixture of crowded towns and isolated marsas sometimes with only camels for company. We officially entered Sudan at Suakin, 30 miles south or Port Sudan. Suakin is a very old town, it was the major port before it was shifted to Port Sudan. The anchorage for yachts is beside the rubble of old Suakin on Suakin Island, these are remains of 700 year old buildings. We are not entirely sure why the place was abandoned, it looks like it has been bombed. One plausible and seemingly accurate account is that when the Port was shifted all the corner stones from the buildings were taken to Port Sudan for new buildings there. This would account for why the buildings are mainly just piles of stones with a few walls still resisting the pull of gravity. We saw some photos from the early 1900s and Old Suakin looked like a thriving little port town. Take the cars away and visiting "new" Suakin, over the cause way from the rubble, is still like walking into the 19th century or before. Donkey carts deliver water to houses and shops, goats wander the streets at will, men have swords tucked into their robes. The sky line is dominated by at least 3 mosques the green minarets and domes standing out against the hazy blue sky. Wind blown dust turns the blue sky into continuous brown haze, occasionally we got a glimpse of the Red Sea hills just a few miles away. Tuatara got covered in fine brown sandy dust, the heavy morning dew turned the deck into a mud patch if walked on while still wet. All our ropes are stiff with dust and salt air. Inside a fine layer of dust covers everything. We have cleaned up a bit and since Suakin the winds have been lighter so less dust and we can now see the hills of the Nubian desert. Our ropes will have to stay hard to handle until we get to a marina with plenty of water.

We travelled the 40 minutes to Port Sudan by bus. Port Sudan is Sudan's second largest city, a mixture of old and new. Cars and tuk tuks hussle for room on the roads with donkey pulled water carts and delivery carts. Every shop had water bottles outside which the water boys re filled. The water seemed to be used for anything from washing before prayer to cleaning carrots for sale. Produce is displayed in large baskets under cool arches, mobile phone shops are next to tailors sewing on feet driven singer sewing machines. Groups of men sit around coffee pots having animated discussions. We have arrived at election time, the first multi party election in 2 decades. Alan spoke to a Dutch freelance photographer at the Palace hotel ( best internet in Port Sudan) who said there was a bit of niggle on the street if you knew what to look for and not to talk politics with the locals. We were having enough trouble trying to find someone who knew where to find a new sink plug so we didn't feel the need to talk politics.

We did not intend to anchor at Port Sudan as the harbor fees are huge, but we could anchor for one night as long as we didn't go ashore. Largo Star wanted to dive the wreck of the Umbria, 3 miles west of Port Sudan, so we anchored one night in the Port while Alastair organized a dive trip with a dive operator. Marco visited Largo Star to organize it so no need to go ashore. The next day Alan, Martha, Alastair and Vivienne dived on the wreck with Marco. We anchored our boats close by and for an hour or so I was in charge of the 3 boats, Bryce went with them to snorkel the wreck. Luckily the day was windless, the sea without a ripple had me feeling like we were anchored in a huge fish bowl. I could sit on deck and watch the fish swimming 7 to 8 metres below. Checking the anchor was easy I could see it sitting in 10 metres of clear water on a patch of white sand. I also had a nice surprise Skype phone call from Andrew, a nice way to fill in the time.

Umbria was a supply ship full of bombs, ammunition, Fiat cars and being Italian, wine. The Captain did not want it to get into British hands so scuttled it on the reef near Port Sudan. The bombs are still live and according to Marco would cause damage to the city if they were to explode now! The divers enjoyed the dive, seeing coral and fish as well as the bombs. Vivienne took some great photos of their dive. Marco sped back to Port in his inflatable and we motored the 25 miles to Marsa Fijab wanting to get there before the sun got too low in the sky. The one drawback of this coast is that all the marsa entrances face west. If the afternoon sun is too low the reef lined entrance becomes a nervous experience, leaving in the morning is made easier by following our entry tracks saved on the electronic chart. We stayed 3 nights at Fijab waiting for the wind to settle. This was not a hardship as we were right by a telephone tower and could get good internet reception with our Sudanese SIM. I caught up on uploading photos to the blog gallery and we could read the news, check bank accounts, a lovely phone chat with Sarah etc etc. About 8 boats were stuck in the marsa all happily tapping away on the Internet, the VHF was very quiet for a change! Here in Marob we can get internet although patchy reception, we can use up the few Sudanese pounds we have left on the SIM before we cross the border to Egypt 10 miles away.

Alan is snorkeling, the boats already in Egypt advise us to enjoy clear waters and coral of the Sudanese coast as it is far better than the sun bleached dive boat crowded reefs of the northern Red Sea. When he gets back we will move 9 miles north to our last Nubian desert marsa. At Umbeila we will wait for a weather window to do the overnight passage across Foul bay to Dolphin reef our first Egyptian stop. Choosing the right time will be a bit of a lottery as no one has found a reliable source of weather forecasting for the Red Sea. What you get is what you get! Some yachts sit for days waiting for a predicted weather window and find once out there the wind changes and perhaps they should have left days ago. Occasionally the weather arrives as predicted and those days sitting waiting was worth it. One thing we wont do in Umbeila is walk along the beach and stray over the Egyptian border as 4 yachties (2 NZers) did a few days ago. They managed to get out of the scape, we haven't heard the full story yet. They are reluctant to talk about it over the radio while still in the area. It got us thinking though about the fact none of us had phone numbers for NZ embassies or consulates in the area. A VHF call in the early evening by Mark alerted us to their problem, he wanted someone to know where they were and to do something if we hadn't heard from them by morning. We were relieved when he gave us all a call at about 10pm to say they were back safely on board their two boats. Largo Stars Sat phone was not needed thank goodness. At least their escapade gave us something other than weather to talk about!