Arrival Day

Day 30 of the Return Trip

I must begin by apologising for the delay in getting this post up. After our arrival, the landslide of post-crossing work as well as the cumulative undone things from almost 6 months of being away took their toll on the blogger.

We had huge expectations for our arrival. We pictured our first sighting of land on a clear day - Hout Bay, followed by Llandudno and the twelve apostles leading onto Table Bay and a blue-sky entry to the town under the mountain.

It turned out to be somewhat less glamourous than that. The forecasted north-wester arrived, bringing with it the thickest fog that we had seen thus far. The best we saw was the loom of the city as we approached the night before.

But it didn't matter. We were nearly home, and no bit of fog could have made our arrival any less sweet. We got Bren/Lula on the helm, Gina on soup duty, Chancho on lookout, NaviDave on the chart-plotter, and Uncle Ric on foghorn.

Our biggest concern at the time was fishing trawlers. Big ships weren't such a worry because we cleared the shipping channels pretty swiftly, and they all have radars to see us. The fishing trawlers don't, so we had to keep a very sharp watch. 

We fancied our chances of catching one last fish. Maybe a nice big snoek or yellowtail close to the coast. So we trolled out Dave's obscenely big lure with the hopes of not arriving at the dock empty-handed. The only thing the lure attracted was a handful of flappy coastal birds who had a field day of circling our backstay.

With Dave shouting instructions of where to steer and when to tack, we were literally going in blind. When the mist finally lifted enough to catch sight of land, we were already 50 metres from Green Point lighthouse - close enough to see cars and people on the promenade!

We entered the harbour and dropped sails so that we could make our way to the dock. We were welcomed by a host of happy faces, including the Robinsons, the Moorcrofts, the Teanbys, the Eckermans' and a whole lot of other friends. I want to acknowledge the patience that you guys showed coming out in the cold, drizzly weather to see us in. you can't put a price to it. It really means a lot.

Hugs and kisses were flying around all over the dock, and the chef at RCYC sent out a huge plate of toasted bacon sarmies to go with our fresh milk and other treats that we had waiting for us. 

We went inside and sat around a large breakfast table that RCYC had arranged for us and shared stories over breakfast, in between taking turns to go off and shower. Donning fresh dry clothes after a hot shower is heaven. There is no other way to describe it.

And so the adventures of Lula, Chancho, Davidaloca, Geniaas and Uncle Ric came to a close.

I'd like to think that I have done all the acknowledgements and thanks along the way, but I would just like to thank everyone who was a part of this thing - our friends in Brazil, our friends who came over to sail with us, our hosts and hostesses along the way, family and friends who sent messages, all of you who came to see us on the dock, dad.

And lastly I want to thank the crew. It takes some doing being couped up on a small boat with the same four (or sometimes more) people. It requires a huge deal of patience and understanding. The fact that we came out of this without keel-hauling anyone is commendable. We've had a great jol, and tackled one of the more serious challenges that the natural world has to offer. And we have the passport stamps to prove it. I'm stoked and proud of you guys, I couldn't have done it without you.

Capitao Lula - OUT.