Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
den feeling of relief overwhelmed us all. We were exhausted, cold, hungry, seasick, and
scared, and the very sight of that rescue craft was indescribable. We were to be saved,
plucked from the path of a bad winter storm! Little did we know that our adventure was
only just beginning. Winter storms off Cape Point were frequent and severe and usually
life-threatening unless sailing in anything but an extremely seaworthy craft. I realized that
Déjà vu as she was did not belong in this class at all, and that if I wanted to fulfill my
lifelong ambition of a world cruise on a home built yacht, I had some work ahead of me.
The rescue craft bobbed and weaved her way through the corridor of gigantic, angry waves.
Smashing forcefully into them she reared, bucked, and positively flew over them in a
magnificent show of spray and seamanship. We aboard the stricken Déjà vu giggled ex-
haustedly at the authority of the rescue close at hand. Drawing up almost alongside but
keeping a safe distance between the two violently rolling boats, we saw the figure of what
appeared to be the skipper sitting at the helm on the upper level of the steel structure of this
muscular, flashing boat.
“Déjà vu, Déjà vu, do you copy?”
“Roger, Pearl van Riet,” I answered tensely, hanging on to a grab rail in the cabin as the
boat yawed about.
“We're going to try to tow you back to Simon's Town. We will come closer and throw you
a heaving line. Secure it to a strong point on your boat's bow, do you copy?”
“Roger that, skipper, and thank you very much,” I replied.
Soon, a thin line came streaking across our bows and was immediately grabbed by Mark
and Gavin; it was attached to a much heavier nylon warp. They hauled it in and grappled it
to the stout Samson post in front. I remained at the helm. The boat still maintained a slight
headway, remaining more stable than if we had doused the sails, but I decided to cut the
engine for fear of fouling any lines in the propeller. I went forward to inspect the heaving
line and was impressed by the size of the nylon warp. It seemed good and strong, and I
gave the skipper the old thumbs up.
Slowly, the powerful launch came about and took up slack in the line. Suddenly, it went
taut, snapping up and shooting droplets everywhere. Déjà vu's nose swung quickly around,
and we felt the strong, safe tug of powerful engines towing us back to safety. I called over
to the others, suggesting we haul down the sails. It was late afternoon. The storm had not
abated, in fact, if anything it was worsening, and the Pearl van Riet and Déjà vu were plow-
ing through the largest waves I had ever seen. The motion was violent, and the sheets of
spray were overpowering, soaking the whole length of Déjà vu. I was terrified that the Sam-
