Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Chapter One
A red sky in the morning is a sailor's warning, but a red sky at night is a sailor's delight.
Our first big storm.
Déjà vu abandoned at sea.
We make national headlines.
Major design flaw in keel discovered.
The weather had changed drastically during the night, and Déjà vu was rolling alarmingly. I
crawled out of my bunk and went above deck to find a grey and unfriendly sky, aggravated
by a freshening southeaster. My twin brother, Gavin, was up and dressing, and Mark, our
young naval friend, was already out on deck.
“I don't like the look of this at all. We're on a lee shore, and I can't tell if the anchor is still
holding. It also looks as though the wind is freshening; I've heard it can really blow here in
the winter,” I said nervously.
“I don't like this either,” replied Gavin tensely. “We should think about turning back home.”
Home was Simon's Town, about twenty miles across and down through False Bay, the bay
formed at the southern tip of South Africa, Cape Point. This was meant to be a shakedown
cruise for Déjà vu, as well as for Gavin and I, and quite frankly I wanted to see how my
home built boat would handle in a blow. The usually optimistic Mark was looking decidedly
green about the gills, and I felt a little sorry for him. This was a far cry from the rock-steady
decks of a naval destroyer manned by professional officers and awash with naval cadets.
Yet, to his credit, he put on a brave face. Gavin had started to make coffee in the rolling
cabin, and I went up forward to check the anchor. To my dismay it was gone! The line was
slack in the dark water, and as I hauled it in, I could tell by the weight that we had lost it.
Red skies in the morning….
I found the frayed end, and I cursed my decision not to use any
chain.
The wind continued to increase, and I imagined it to be about twenty-five knots; the seas
were beginning to build and tender Déjà vu was rolling heavily to port and to starboard. Cof-
fee was forgotten as we started the engine, hauled up the main and jib sails, and prepared
to beat off the threatening black coast of Hangklip, a high, dark, and shadowy sea cliff. The
seas appeared to be building with great speed, and the wind now started to whine through
the wire rope of the rigging. The temperature was falling as well. We were all silent. None
of us had encountered really heavy weather on a small boat, and yesterday's bravado was
quickly forgotten.
