Having spent a fair number of my hours in the company of sailors, I can say that, on the whole, we are a philosophical lot. I think we must. It’s the only way to cast yourself out into a great abyss, where you only have yourself to blame for anything that goes wrong, and you only have your little ship and the gods of wind and sea to thank if things go right. This applies to racing sailors as much as cruising sailors.

Before we cast off to sea, we learned most of our sailing philosophy while racing and cruising on Lake Mead, Nevada with our friends at the Nevada Yacht Club. (Read more about that, here.) There, we found that some sailing philosophy is expounded in the heat of the moment like: “Go ugly early!” or “If you think to yourself ‘it might be time to reef down,’ it was time to reef a half hour ago.” Other bits of sailing philosophy are doled out in the after hours of races through the wisdom of observation that comes from a pint of grog or a nosh of rum. Sometimes, it is offered as the philosopher “short-tacks” down the dock, pausing for effect and almost toppling backward into the water, only to be saved by a member of his audience who reaches out to grab a fistful of the philosopher’s t-shirt just in time to prevent him from going overboard:

 This bit of sailing wisdom was offered to us by the likes of a Nevada Yacht Club sailor I only ever knew as “Fight’n Dave.” The club had several “Dave(s)” in residence at the time, and we needed a better way to tell them apart. No statement applicable to sailing has ever been more true.  And all these years later, I find deciding whether to be a fast sailor today, or a slow one, is one of the most challenging aspects of the Oddgodfrey sailing circumnavigation.

 Yet Another Opportunity to Go Slow

We enjoyed Knysna with the weight of decision-making hanging over our heads. Within the first day, Andrew had found gin distilleries, a sourdough pizza shop, and a handful of farmers markets selling South African produce at a price Andrew could smile about. It was not surprising then, that over a pizza lunch, he said “I love Knysna!  Maybe we should stay for Christmas!”

 I rub my forehead in response.

 “We are in year six of a five year plan, and our friends are waiting for us to arrive in Cape Town to celebrate Christmas.” I say. “Besides, if we stay too long in this comfy bay, we will lose our sea legs again.”

 “But, I love Knysna!” Andrew says.

We were warned about this. As we sidled Sonrisa up to the dock, the Knysna Yacht Club Commodore caught our lines and asked us how long we intended to stay. “Just a few days,” was Andrew’s answer then. The Commodore chuckled and said, “Maybe, but Knysna is known to swallow sailors. You can come in, but you can never leave.” Sure, the entrance is a bit scary, and we will need just the right weather to escape back to sea.  But more problematic than that, apparently, is Knysna and its surrounding area is idyllic.

 Knysna lies at the center of South Africa’s famed and well-touristed “Garden Route”. If you so choose, you can fly into Cape Town, rent a car, and set off on a drive following gorgeous coastal roads overlooking South Africa’s fierce sea, exploring cute towns with loads of personality, and then skirting inland to drive through botanical gardens, nature preserves, and picturesque mountains. Along the entire route is more of the great food and wine you will come to expect from all South African eateries. We aren’t doing the whole of the Garden Route in one go, but landing in Knysna for a bit gives us an opportunity to start in the middle and work our way in reverse to see some of the Garden Route in the direction from which we just sailed.

Even more fun than that, we get to go visit old friends!

We met Nils, Margret, and their boat “Unwind” way back in Fiji, circa 2017. Fear of trauma brought us together when a cyclone threatened our anchorage in Fiji. All the sailors there battened down our hatches and held our collective breath while we waited to see if we were about to get pummeled. In the meantime, we made friends. When we escaped unscathed, we put our boats back together again and cast off to cruise Fiji in great company.

The Unwinds are decidedly fast. Unwind herself is a 50-foot aluminum custom-built boat with every detail perfectly thought out, and her people are as energetic as she is. Nils & Margret kept us on the move. After scuba diving together in Fiji, we chased them to Vanuatu where we stood on the edge of a live Volcano and hiked through the jungle of Tanna to stomp the ground with a whole village of Ni Vanuatu. We had to say "catch you later” shortly thereafter, though.  The Unwinds were on a schedule.  They needed to finish their own circumnavigation and return home to the ongoing business they were running from afar – a bed and breakfast situated on the Garden Route of South Africa.

But, we stayed in touch, and as we neared South Africa, Margret and I started scheming about when we might meet up. As we arrived in Knysna, I realized Nils and Margret were only an hour and a half away! And so, we left Katherine Hepburn and Sonrisa in the care of our sailing armada compatriots, and rented a car to drive out to see our friends.

It happened to be squarely within the South African holiday season, and the locals make great use of the Garden Route. Nils and Margret were busy, busy, busy…at least until the latest Covid-19 scare closed travel between South Africa and Europe again.  We got lucky and caught them in the two days between the time their European guests canceled, and the local South Africans got wind that previously sold out accommodations opened back up again. But, this didn’t mean they had time to come out to play as unemployed sailors might.  They still had work to do! So, Margret gave us the scoop for some hiking and exploring in the area before returning to the Lilly Pond Lodge for dinner with them.

Exploring Nature’s Valley

The drive in that direction was beautiful enough with its tree lined roads and sharp mountains in the distance. We reached Nature’s Valley around noon-time.  We parked the car, walked through narrow roads lined with a variety of vacation homes until we arrived at the only pub in the area. As we walk through the door, the hostess greets us with a series of words slung together that sounded nothing like English. 

Because it wasn’t.

The Oddgodfrey brains simultaneously went blank trying to interpret the sounds this woman made in our direction: Afrikaans. Afrikaans is the language that developed here to blend Dutch, German, English, and bit of local languages like Zulu and Khosi. We cannot understand a single syllable of it, try as we might. Our hostess realized we had no idea what she said, and so switched back to English as if we just couldn’t hear her over the restaurant din.  She repeated her greeting and directed us to our table.  There, we got to chatting with locals who gave us the scoop on where we should walk next.

“Turn right from here, take the little sand path through the overgrowth down to the beach.  Walk along the beach for about a half mile, then turn right and into the hills.  You will hike up and over the ridgeline for a great view, and then down into a river that meets the sea.” They said.  This sounded great, so we ate our lunch and took the recommended path past people fishing from the shoreline, craggy rocks decorated with yellow daisies and GIANT red shaded grasshoppers as big as your hand.

...to be continued...