A FATHER-SON ADVENTURE
In 2016 I signed up to race the Ngalawa Cup, recalls Dieter Rihs. But who would do this crazy thing with me? My son David and his childhood best friend Achim Scheck both agreed immediately. We called our team ‘The Old Man and his Fellas’.
We started working out possible routes with the help of charts and Google Earth and tried to work out where would be the best places to land.
For navigation we had a simple compass, handheld GPS and binoculars. Personal equipment was limited to sleeping mats, a light sleeping bag, one tarp to sleep on and some T-shirts and shorts. For provisions we decided on Chinese instant noodle soups, some crackers, energy bars and bottles of water.
On the first day we had a try at sailing the Ngalawa on the lagoon close to Kilwa. The lateen rig was simple but difficult to handle when you tried to gybe; someone had to bring the pole to the other side of the mast. The halyard also served as the running backstay and there was only one shroud, which also had to be brought to the windward side. Downwind and with wind abeam the Ngalawa was really fast, but to tack was nearly impossible – only when the wind was not too strong and waves not to high could we gain some metres to windward.
On the way to the start from Rukyira we had to cross our first reef: the breaking waves were impressive and we didn’t know how the Ngalawa would behave, but everything went well and we began to trust the boat more and more.
The next day we planned to reach Songo Songo in the afternoon and camp there. We rounded the most western part of the island early afternoon and tried to reach a beach just around the corner, but due to rising winds we couldn’t get to windward so decided to go on to another remote island. This was a bad decision.
About two miles north of Songo
Songo, the wind and waves increased, we lost one outrigger and capsized. We weren’t able to right the boat ourselves and decided to ask for help. After about two and a half hours the race committee boat found us and we were towed back to Songo Songo. The sail was ripped, the hull leaking like a sieve, and we lost all our tools, water, charts, GPS and binoculars.
Some other teams were on the beach and helped us out with dry clothes and a lot of hot tea with a little shot of rum.
When early daylight came we walked to a small fishing village on the other side of the island to find some locals who could help repair our boat. Although we didn’t speak Swahili and no one could speak English we managed to find the right people – one repaired the outrigger, one the sail and another did the caulking.
With little confidence we started early the next morning to reach Bwejuu. Without our navigational equipment and without sight of land it was one hell of a trip: lots of wind, 6-9ft high waves we sometimes surfed. David had to balance the boat on the outrigger beam for seven hours, and we had to bail constantly. But we made it.
Just after we passed Cape Ras Kanzi, the most eastern point of mainland Tanzania, the leeward beams broke and again we lost an outrigger. Achim and David reacted unbelievably fast, jumping overboard and holding the boat upright. We lowered the sail and drifted to a sandy beach. They later found the lost beams and outrigger a couple of miles away.
At sunrise we started repairs then sailed out into the Indian Ocean on a course to bring us west of Zanzibar. Over the remaining days we had a close race with a British boat and for the final miles it was a head-to-head race– which ended in a draw.