It was a great relief to arrive in Aden and put the pick down in the center of this old port 100 metres off the dock where thousands of Antipodeans would have stopped on ships in the 60's and 70's en route to Europe on their oe's.
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| The grand old Entrance at Port of Aden |
Once cleared of immigration and customs formalities the next task (as at almost every arrival port) was to locate a taxi driver who spoke reasonable English. With the benefit of advice from fellow cruisers we connected with the more African looking than Arab, Salem (as it turned out his mother was Tanzanian).
This guy might not have had the flashest car (in fact it was totally clapped out to the point that Peter had to get out and push it several times) but boy did he open doors and pave the way for us getting our spare parts, fruit and vege, groceries etc showing us the backstreets and alleys as we went. Good for us good for him.
When it came to his fare he always said pay what you feel appropriate...this way he always comes out on top because he knows we are impressed by his service and do not want to be mean fisted. (In passing Salem did let us know that some cruisers were inclined to expect his services for next to nothing and based on years meeting cruisers visiting Aden he could accurately rate levels of generosity by nationality.)
This guy might not have had the flashest car (in fact it was totally clapped out to the point that Peter had to get out and push it several times) but boy did he open doors and pave the way for us getting our spare parts, fruit and vege, groceries etc showing us the backstreets and alleys as we went. Good for us good for him.
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| Frenchman Erik, Peter and American Bob Bush obscured, squashed in back seat of our Aden Taxi with the charming 'smile your in Yemen' Salem |
Everywhere in Aden the people we met were very friendly and accommodating with the standard greeting "Welcome to Yemen" and the question "What do you think of Yemen". The locals (those not holding "official positons") were quick to give us their opinion on their President (photos of whom hang all over the place) who has apparently been ruling for 30 years despite a theoretical democracy and operates the usual system of privilege and graft benefitting only a section of society.
Thus the people seem to be largely disposessed of a viable future. It is a sad state of affairs when the country is clearly undermined by a very privileged minority.
Thus the people seem to be largely disposessed of a viable future. It is a sad state of affairs when the country is clearly undermined by a very privileged minority.
One of the escape mechanisms for the general masses is 'khat' a mild narcotic plant leaf that is chewed and retained in the mouth for many hours providing the extraordinary sight of thousands (mostly males) going about their business of sitting around doing very little with a golf ball size lump of chewed leaf bulging in the cheek. It is also expensive and apparently takes up a significant portion of the family budget. Not that different to the use of Kava in Fiji.
Couple the stupifying 'khat' with up to 6 mosque visits a day, the heat and dust you get a surefire recipe to permanently stall the country. Of course we were not surprised to find that all the women (with a single
exception that we saw) wore the burkha. However we still found ourselves agog at the sight of thousands of women in 32C temperatures, dressed in black burkhas (often over western clothing including trousers and jeans as far as we could tell from the hems) faces covered except for a narrow slit for their eyes. Even more disconcerting were the women fully covered with a veil and not even their eyes visible, and even gloves on their hands!
An impromptu night tour with Salem saw the little Toyota wreck meshing perfectly into the mayhem of the old town whereas a flash air con car would have had the Somalian beggars all over us. We experienced a magic meal with him in a big cafe serving traditional meats, bread and salad with B the only female in a huge
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| Yemeni man at work chewing 'Khat' |
exception that we saw) wore the burkha. However we still found ourselves agog at the sight of thousands of women in 32C temperatures, dressed in black burkhas (often over western clothing including trousers and jeans as far as we could tell from the hems) faces covered except for a narrow slit for their eyes. Even more disconcerting were the women fully covered with a veil and not even their eyes visible, and even gloves on their hands!
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| Yemeni lady in full Burkha in 32c |
dining room of males while the local women and children were isolated in an adjoining room. This was another example of muslim women being segregated and confirms the second class citizen role this control society has them destined to follow hidden under their black veils.
Salem called women in burkhas "ninjas" (even though his wife and daughter wear the burkha) - not sure whether it was his standard comic line for tourists or whether that is a slang term the locals use. B was talking to Salem on social order and he seemed to be progressive in his thinking, telling us about his children and in particular his daughter who would be going to university. But when we got on to driving he proudly told us his two sons could already drive but his wife and daughter would never be permitted to drive.
The shopping in the old town was all go up to 10pm at night with people everywhere and B did her fruit and vege shopping here around the main square rather than the sterile (but well stocked) supermarket. The shopping was very traditional with specialist streets and lanes for copper, jewellery, clothing, hardware, electrical etc.
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| Barbara night shopping in Aden under watchful eye of Salem |
yards. P was part-hunting aided by Salem and B was busy clicking the camera at camels, camels and carts (for grandson Noah) and street scenes.
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| Back street scenes Aden |
Driving around with Salem, Somalians get the blame for all Yemens woes and although Yemen is poor with an economy in tatters Somalians still see it as nirvana and pay people smugglers to get here. When they arrive
they are forced into menial jobs like street cleaning and according to Salem, the woman go into prostitution. Which leads on to the following.......
Tragedy in Aden
Sadly we must tell you of a tragedy that took place Sunday 22 March that would not have even rated a
mention in western media but is commonplace in these parts. An 8 metre open fishing boat with a broken engine crammed with 95 Somalian refugees was towed into Aden and berthed alongside the old dock just 100 metres from where we were anchored. The refugees had paid people smugglers to take them to Yemen. We were told the people smugglers were also pirates and halfway across the 150 mile wide Gulf of Aden had cast them adrift and gone off to board and seize a tug boat in the shipping corridor. The Somalians were found drifting by a French frigate.
They claimed refugee status, so the French took their unstable craft in tow taking 2 days to get them the remaining 50 miles to Aden where they passed them over to the Yemenis on the harbour limits to be towed in. On arrival alongside the dock the Somalians all rushed to one side of the boat to get off and the already unstable boat capsized and 7 unlucky Somalians drowned. It was around 7pm local time and the mosques were chirping away into the early evening as usual and although only 100metres away we did not hear or
notice anything different as we were down below on Musketelle sorting out a software issue on a laptop.
We only noticed about an hour later when we looked out and saw emergency flashing lights and a bigger than normal mass of humanity on the dock. Erik the skipper of the French yacht Genesis that we convoyed with was on the dock and saw it happen. Being a diver he jumped in his dink sped out to his yacht got his scuba gear and went back and dived in to help. When we caught up with him later he was a bit distraught as when he got into the half sunken boat there were just 4 bodies with 3 having floated away. There was one
girl still alive in the hull when the French Navy who had just heard of unfolding events turned up with divers, underwater spotlights and other rescue gear but the Yemenis would not let the French Navy enter the water. The Yemenis completed the rescue with free divers and hand torches, but at least they got the girl out. The saddest thing is all the Somalians were youngsters in their 20's just looking for a way out of what must be a terrible life in the homeland.
We felt rather out of place that evening as passing visitors sitting in the comfort and security of our floating home until then only worrying about a small software problem.
mention in western media but is commonplace in these parts. An 8 metre open fishing boat with a broken engine crammed with 95 Somalian refugees was towed into Aden and berthed alongside the old dock just 100 metres from where we were anchored. The refugees had paid people smugglers to take them to Yemen. We were told the people smugglers were also pirates and halfway across the 150 mile wide Gulf of Aden had cast them adrift and gone off to board and seize a tug boat in the shipping corridor. The Somalians were found drifting by a French frigate.
They claimed refugee status, so the French took their unstable craft in tow taking 2 days to get them the remaining 50 miles to Aden where they passed them over to the Yemenis on the harbour limits to be towed in. On arrival alongside the dock the Somalians all rushed to one side of the boat to get off and the already unstable boat capsized and 7 unlucky Somalians drowned. It was around 7pm local time and the mosques were chirping away into the early evening as usual and although only 100metres away we did not hear or
notice anything different as we were down below on Musketelle sorting out a software issue on a laptop.
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| The scene on the dock from Musketelle at just 100metres |
girl still alive in the hull when the French Navy who had just heard of unfolding events turned up with divers, underwater spotlights and other rescue gear but the Yemenis would not let the French Navy enter the water. The Yemenis completed the rescue with free divers and hand torches, but at least they got the girl out. The saddest thing is all the Somalians were youngsters in their 20's just looking for a way out of what must be a terrible life in the homeland.
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| Morning revealed the shoddy 8m long craft 95 Somalians sought freedom on, ending in tragedy |
Its only Money
At somewhar lesser level Aden turned out to be a jinxed stop for us but we shouldn't blame Aden, it just happened that things went wrong here. The day we arrived B goes to the supermarket to stock up and tenders our primary Mastercard to be told it would not accept the charge so she uses a Visa card. Thats strange because we have an auto payment setup on the Mastercard so next day go to an internet cafe to check the account and whamo its been compromised to the tune of NZD$17k. Some low-lifes have gone on a shopping spree through the UK buying laptops, cellphones and the odd classy restaurant meal on us over a three day period 02/05 March when we were at sea between the Maldives and Oman. In retracing where we had used that card we think it was copied in Sri Lanka, possibly at the car rental outfit in Colombo where we hired the car for our Sri Lankan road trip. They did a manual swipe of the card for the deposit at the pickup which they ripped up in front of us when the car was returned in good order. We assume qhile we were merrily touring Sri Lanka the imprint was immediately on-sold, a bogus card made and then used until the limit reached. The good news is Mastercard have accepted the activity was fraudulent and have agreed to credit the disputed charges without question. Top marks Kiwibank and Mastercard !!
Difficulties Departing
Our final tale of woe relates to us departing Aden Thursday 27 March for the Red Sea. Attempt 1 consisted of us getting about 6 miles out where, the wind having dropped, we decided to motor sail but the starter motor would not operate (although it had 60 minutes earlier). Decided to return to the Aden anchorage
to find the problem but this necessitated coming back in without motor under sail and anchoring under sail.
to find the problem but this necessitated coming back in without motor under sail and anchoring under sail.
Due to a misjudgment in timing we ended up on a lee shore to close in and had to pay a local boatman and his crewman to come alongside and tow us to a better position. After negotiating a deal they towed us to the new spot (the entire time hassling us for the money) and quickly departed as we anchored but as luck would have it the 40kg anchor and 40m of chain did not hold and we drifted back maybe 75m until it finally dig in. We should not have paid them so quickly and insisted they stayed until we had completed anchoring. Result was that we ended up too close to a huge ship mooring buoy (so big they are viewable on Google Earth).
B was forced to stay in the cockpit armed with a large fender in case we swung onto the buoy while P is below trying to fix the mechanical problem. Now this is where things really go pear shaped as P hears the Port Pilot boat going by and hails him over to tell him we think our anchor and chain are snagged on the
mooring chain for the shipping buoy (domestic harmony prevents us from writing that all this time B is saying, leave it, we are fine, just fix the engine, we do not need them to do anything). No problem says the Pilot boat man and proceeds to come alongside the fenders on our starboard side and commence an ill-fated attempt to raise our anchor by simply putting a line around the chain at the level of our deck and and pulling backwards, in the process scoring the chain on our bow paintwork and nearly taking out the pulpit (domestic harmony
prevents us from writing that all this time B is saying, that will not work, we will damage the boat, leave it...). To add insult to injury the pilot lef his steering position to check the situation and let his vessel drift around with the sharp edge of his aft starboard corner hitting and doing major damage to our starboard teak cap rail at which point we scream at him to move away fast before more damage is done.
mooring chain for the shipping buoy (domestic harmony prevents us from writing that all this time B is saying, leave it, we are fine, just fix the engine, we do not need them to do anything). No problem says the Pilot boat man and proceeds to come alongside the fenders on our starboard side and commence an ill-fated attempt to raise our anchor by simply putting a line around the chain at the level of our deck and and pulling backwards, in the process scoring the chain on our bow paintwork and nearly taking out the pulpit (domestic harmony
prevents us from writing that all this time B is saying, that will not work, we will damage the boat, leave it...). To add insult to injury the pilot lef his steering position to check the situation and let his vessel drift around with the sharp edge of his aft starboard corner hitting and doing major damage to our starboard teak cap rail at which point we scream at him to move away fast before more damage is done.
We were both very upset at this. B was rightly furious that this unavoidable collision had occured and as it was clearly a misjudgement by P to get the bloody big steel tug involved. He removed from the line of fire to quickly fix the mechanical problem by replacing the starter motor with a spare we carry which resolved the
problem and partly diminished the stress levels aboard. We had lunch then decided to have a go at trying to liberate the anchor from the bouy chain using our own power. Can you believe the engine does not start. Back to the engine bay and turns out our starting button has an intermittent fault. We fix that more or less and try to jiggle the anchor free under power with no success. By now its late afternoon and this time we jointly agree we need a diver but light is fading. We ring the trusty Salem who promises a diver. We decide to stay the night firmly attached to Aden but having to stand 2 hour anchor watches because we don't want to hit
the bouy and do more damage. Then at 2am in the morning the Pilot is back hovering as the big port tugs park a huge rusty Egpytian freighter 40 metres from us using the same buoy we are attached to !!!.
problem and partly diminished the stress levels aboard. We had lunch then decided to have a go at trying to liberate the anchor from the bouy chain using our own power. Can you believe the engine does not start. Back to the engine bay and turns out our starting button has an intermittent fault. We fix that more or less and try to jiggle the anchor free under power with no success. By now its late afternoon and this time we jointly agree we need a diver but light is fading. We ring the trusty Salem who promises a diver. We decide to stay the night firmly attached to Aden but having to stand 2 hour anchor watches because we don't want to hit
the bouy and do more damage. Then at 2am in the morning the Pilot is back hovering as the big port tugs park a huge rusty Egpytian freighter 40 metres from us using the same buoy we are attached to !!!.
Next morning holy Friday 27th March Salem has a local bloke alongside with his shonky scuba gear with a starting price of USD$300 to relieve us of our woes which were now widely known on the waterfront. We settled on USD$100 and the guy jumped into the dank and murky waters completing the task in 2 minutes !! You have to laugh but at least we were free.
Attempt 2 departure therefore consisted of us pulling in the newly freed anchorand departing straight away. As usual the Harbour Master called us on the vhf radio as we left the harbour entrance. We reported we were departing and gave our original clearance number as we had not been ashore since returning. Instead
of being wished a pleasant sail we were ordered to return as the regulations required us to check in again. We protested reminding them we had returned for emergency repairs, not gone ashore and only delayed departure further because we had snagged on one of their mooring chains etc etc. P consulted the legal
advisor and concluded the Yemeni gunboat might prevail so we reluctantly returned, anchored sweetly and traipsed ashore to go through the pointless paper trail once again. Luckily we encountered a very obliging official who confirmed that all that was required was a renewed harbour clearance document, so another taxi
trip to the also very pleasant harbourmaster was undertaken. Other yachties in the anchorage came over saying they had enjoyed the verbal jousting over the airways and talked us into staying the night for drinks on one of the yachts (the renewed clearance giving us 24 hours within which to depart).
of being wished a pleasant sail we were ordered to return as the regulations required us to check in again. We protested reminding them we had returned for emergency repairs, not gone ashore and only delayed departure further because we had snagged on one of their mooring chains etc etc. P consulted the legal
advisor and concluded the Yemeni gunboat might prevail so we reluctantly returned, anchored sweetly and traipsed ashore to go through the pointless paper trail once again. Luckily we encountered a very obliging official who confirmed that all that was required was a renewed harbour clearance document, so another taxi
trip to the also very pleasant harbourmaster was undertaken. Other yachties in the anchorage came over saying they had enjoyed the verbal jousting over the airways and talked us into staying the night for drinks on one of the yachts (the renewed clearance giving us 24 hours within which to depart).
Attempt 3: We finally departed noon Saturday 28 March and sailed away for the fabled Straits of Bab el Mandeb - Gates of Sorrow and entrance to the Red Sea and the next stage in our meandering. Timing our arrival to the Gates at about 0600 next morning. But more of that next blog...
All at Sea
B&P
B&P
