Our Biggest Blunder

Our biggest blunder was made whilst we were still in South Africa. It involved not familiarising ourselves with our equipment - in this case a VHF - a very old VHF.

We were stuck in Simonstown for over 25 days whilst gale-force winds kept us from rounding Cape Point and heading for St. Helena. One fine morning we decided to run the gauntlet, and no sooner had we rounded the point between Anvil Rock and The Bellows when the damper plate on the main motor disintegrated, sounding like an off-key wind chime. A huge enough problem, but not the issue at hand.

What to do! With no wind, but another SW gale force called for later, we could turn around and sail back to Simonstown, or we could radio Hout Bay Harbour, only 4 miles away, and see if any fisherman were about who could offer a tow. Going back seemed ridiculous considering the venture ahead; besides, chances were pretty good we would know the fisherman, since we were fresh from the fishing industry.

So I called the Harbour Master and asked which boats were in. I was told to stand-by on Channel 10, which I duly did. Or so I thought! The VHF in question was an old Ray Jeff, mounted low. The Channel 9/16 button was an unmarked lever underneath the set. So even though our manual dial showed Channel 10, we were only able to transmit/receive on Channel 16.

What started out as a general enquiry soon became "The Malaika Rescue"

NSRI, National Sea Rescue Institute, is privately sponsored and run by volunteers who are not only tough, but dedicated, considering the extremes of Africa. Coincidentally they have training exercises on Wednesdays and so this day had the full compliment of staff in all 4 rescue crafts, which also all standby on Channel 16, so they heard our dilemma.

The next thing we knew they were getting permission from Cape Town Radio to use Channel 16 to coordinate "The Rescue".

Which included a John Rolfe helicopter in 1 minute 30 seconds, overhead, with loudspeaker in hand, telling us to hold our course so that the air-lift can proceed. Their disappointment was visual when we refused. 3 minutes later we were joined by Rescue 8, a 60-foot power craft, with (we were told) two new 12-cylinder Caterpillars. They seemed pleased to hear that Malaika weighed 20 tonnes, and towed us into Hour Bay Harbour at 10 knots. We were joined en route by Rescue 2, whereupon four wetsuit clad men and 1 woman boarded us. The rescue was perfectly coordinated with Rescue 1 on standby in the harbour, to take a stern line for a handbrake. We gently glided alongside the work dock, and were joined by the helicopter crew and the rest of the NSRI, 30 minutes after the 1st radio enquiry.

The NSRI don't charge, but do take donations, and of course we made a contribution. The financial expense was not as damaging as the blow to the ego, when the NSRI instruments man comes onboard to check out our radio for us and from the companionway said, "Ah! it's a Ray Jeff! Slide the lever underneath."

Our friends never let us live that one down either. One month later we arrived at St. Helena on my birthday, where I was given a teddy bear with a tow rope and a handheld!