A Dhow of a time!

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It's great when you have three days of motorbike riding madness in front of you to remember that when the destination is reached you can reap the rewards of cheap fresh seafood and even more refreshing cocktails!
Leaving the delights of Malawi was comforted by the fact that the women were even more beautiful in Mozambique flaunting outrageously bright-coloured kangas and matching head-dress....slightly distracting! The roads were a disruptive disaster of zigzags across the 'almost completed' new road dipping in and out of river-fords then back onto dry chokingly dusty dirt roads, the journey broken up by our first flat tyre of the trip! Not to worry, 15 helpers suddenly appeared out of nowhere to claim a chance to help the muzungu or at least stand around and stare! And boy can they stare...for hours and hours if the opportunity arises. In this case we were soon off and heading unknowingly into a night of rowdy drunken Mozambicans partying hard in the northern town of Mocuba.
It was always going to be a long day after a night like that but the seemingly endless dirt and sand roads of northern Mozambique and constant criss-cross over road construction made it seem even longer. But there's always a reward and in this case it was ending up staying at a very friendly Portuguese run campground, the owner Marius becoming a good friend later in the trip.
After the short ride on the third day we arrived at Ilha de Mozambique, the former capital of the old Portuguese colony. The island was great to walk around as it's only 2.5km long and less than half that wide, so it wasn't surprising that we ran into some good friends we had met on Chizumulu Island in Malawi - it's funny how you always run into the same people on some trips inadvertently through using guidebooks - so the scene was set for more madness with the ever-up-for-a late-night Justin and Meg!
Ilha de Mozambique is a photographers dream, the old Portuguese colonial buildings falling into disrepair, the women wearing bright colourful clothing against the pastel-coloured building facades, the men sitting idle in the shade. It's also a beautiful place to relax on a roof-top terrace unwinding to the Muezzins voice during the Call to Prayer viewing the comings and goings on of the locals below....especially when your friends are staying at a flash guesthouse with a rooftop terrace right across from the mosque!
We spent several days on Ilha de Mozambique making the most of swimming at a beach (we hadn't been at the ocean since South Africa four months previous) and drinking sun-downers with friends who also extended their stay on the island. There was also an awesome Museu de Artes Decorativas which was a museum inside the old Palacio de Sao Paulo. Basically a palace made into a museum full of opulent furniture, tapestries and portraits of Portuguese colonists such as Vasco da Gama. Vases from Macau (or Chinese Macau as I think it is now known) and detailed engraved furniture from Goa (both ex Portuguese colonies) filled the place!
When we left the island Gwen was feeling pretty rough (barely holding on to the motorbike as we neared Nampula town!) and that night started taking malaria treatment which was to be the start of a nasty four day bout battling fever temperatures of up to 40-C! Luckily we were staying at our Portuguese friends campground who knew of a good local clinic, and with a forceful jab of a long thick needle in her bum it soon brought the fever down!....ouch!

On the morning we packed up ready to head west to Mocubu we changed our minds at the last minute to head north to Pemba. Some people call it indecisiveness but I like to go with the old adage 'going with your feelings'. We stayed at a couple of campsites along the north coast enjoying the long white sandy beaches and the deep sand tracks you had to take to get to them! The second place we camped called Chez Natalie just outside the classic northern Mozambican town of Mocimboa da Praia was where we organised a dhow (small sail boat) to take us up the coast to Tanzania. Of course the whole bargaining process was watched intently by the crowd of locals wanting to see what the muzungu pay for such a trip!
A whole afternoon was taken up bargaining with dodgy officials over supposedly newly introduced "passport exit stamps" (which we hadn't paid two month earlier leaving Mozambique) and trying to exchange money at the bank only to be told by staff to change it on the Black-market! At first I didn't pay the bribe so my passport was tucked away in the Immigration Officers desk drawer, not even trying to conceal the smug look on his face. Later when I returned to an unmanned Immigration office I was tempted to just grab my already stamped passport out of the desk drawer, but he knew of our departure that night and the thought of sitting in a damp Police cell for weeks didn't appeal! The amount (minuscule really) was paid and the passport laid in my hands. Africa wins again!
Of course that night we got completely lost riding through the pitch-black dark mud-hut village on our way to meet the dhow down on the beach, but eventually found our way there after 10pm in time to ride out over the low-tide area to the boat. With the reluctant help of the F.D.M crew we lifted the motorbike six-foot up over the edge and into the dhow in complete darkness! In a bad Portuguese translation we were told not to use torches - we found out later that the cargo of sugar sacks, cigarettes and timber (plus the people owning it) were illegally going up the coast to Tanzania. We made ourselves home on the rough-saw planks (which looked like the most comfortable option left) which were being transported as some of the cargo and settled down for the night. The Africans who were smuggling their way up the coast with their cargo had already taken the prime sugar-sack position on the Dhow - reportedly the most comfortable cargo to sit/sleep on board!
Whilst waiting for the tide to rise enough allowing the boat to sail the Police came out to our Dhow three times in the darkness wanting to check our documents and the motorbikes customs forms etc - possibly hunting for a bribe? After a few nervous hours I was glad when we hurriedly left at 3.40am with the local Police wading across the rising tide towards us shouting "Captain, Captain, wait!"
Being the eternal optimist I had brought enough food for the supposed one night trip....how many years have I been travelling? Should I not know that these things never work out as planned....the Captain even laughed when I asked him in broken Portuguese how long it might take "yes, yes tomorrow ha ha ha".
The first day went by with little progress up the coast - we used our country map as a rough guide to where we thought we were along the coast, and confirmed our slight progress with the crew and one of the Tanzanian passengers smuggling cigarettes who spoke Portuguese. The day had been awesome though, sitting back on an ancient sail boat admiring the crystal clear turquoise blue waters and white sand beach islands dotted along the coast. And laying back on the planks that night with stars so bright I thought to myself that this is hard to beat.
The second day started at 4.40am with the crew shuffling around my head readying the sail for another day of adventure! Not long after washing my face with the freshest of fresh salt water and watching the sunrise beneath the dhow's gull-like sail a pod of whales surfaced not more than 10m away! It was amazing to watch as one of them raised it's tail up and out of the water - some people pay hundreds of dollars for that! It was great to see the crew also really enjoyed the show.
I could hear the surf rolling across the reef long before I could see it. As we sailed around the reef into one of the bays I looked down long barrels of perfectly breaking waves - an absolute surfers dream! I hastily scanned the coast with the binoculars searching for a surf shop renting boards but found only palm trees and a pristine white sand beach.......man, that place is definitely locked in my memory for a later trip! I did actually get to swim there which was fantastic and it gave me the chance to scan the reef and see that it was full of sea urchins - big long-spiked ones! The reason I had time to swim was because the crew had trouble with the sail unloading our first illegal passenger and his wares, and got blown onto the reef! No one complained that we were stuck (but I could swear I saw the woman's eyes roll!) and while we waited for the tide to rise the Captain even walked over the reef to buy fish from a village (somewhere amongst the palm trees?) for all of us to eat. Lucky for us as we had already run out of food and had taken up the Cassava root diet that the crew kindly offered us. As we sailed away from the bay - the crew all smiles and everybody with tasty fish on their lips - I wondered why there was no one up the bow of the dhow navigating us through the extremely shallow waters. As I pointed out to Gwen that there was a long brown trail in the water behind the dhow I heard the slow grind of the hull against the sandbar! As daylight started to fade with us still stuck on the sandbar I have to admit to becoming slightly anxious as waves lapped over the sides - I guess the whole trip depended at that point on the motorbike not sinking and us not drowning! I had kept my patience all day until we crept along the Tanzanian coast that night without using any form of lights and heard us loudly grind to a halt over the jagged reef! I knew it was a jagged reef because I used my bloody torch! The crew looked concerned as they checked for holes - more holes (we were constantly bailing out the dhow all day!) but we were soon off and en route to our final destination. Gwen and I unpacked our sleeping bags after conceding the fact that we weren't going to arrive that night.
At 3am we were woken up due to our bed of sugar sacks (yes, we had progressed to the sugar sacks!) being unloaded. It is hard to describe my anxiousness, but the thought of unloading the 190kg motorbike over the side of the dhow into an much smaller, very unstable dhow that rocked around when loading 50kg sugar sacks made me very nervous. But, as our dhow lightened with less cargo we poled closer to shore, and in the end, five of us carried the motorbike in darkness above our shoulders to safety! Upon payment we were told to "Hurry, leave!" in case the Police arrived - but we didn't need any incentive to do just that!

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Photos

Ilha De Mocambique's main street
We sat across from this Mosque during many sunsets.

A photo from a Mozambician poster
From more prosperous times?

Vase from Macau
Inside the Museu de Artes Decorativas

Onboard the F.D.M dhow
The bikes jammed in tight but there's room for the ladies bathroom next to the front wheel!

Comments

[Megan]

WOW!
I love reading your blog! This specific adventure seems amazing to me and it sounds like you guys are living it up. Awesome :-) MORE PICTURES!