ALIESHA     

 Part 2—The Voyage Home

Chapter 16 - Red Sea Tribulations

The Red Sea stretches 1200 nautical miles from Bab El Mandeb in the south to Suez in the north. (See Chart)  It is narrow with huge land masses on each side; much of the terrain is mountainous and all of it is barren desert.  Temperatures are high and all of this means the winds are frequently very strong. The southern part is affected by the monsoonal winds in the Arabian Sea while the northern part has north sector winds for most of the time.  In the middle is a shifting convergence zone  of varying width with clouds, occasional drizzle and light and variable winds.  Local land and sea breezes play a major role and can amplify the gradient wind or cancel it out, depending on circumstances.   All in all this is a challenging stretch of water for the north-bound cruising sailor.

Some cruising friends had made the whole passage in three weeks without encountering bad winds at all.  Others had been badly beaten up as they tried to thrash to windward in 25 plus knots and steep seas. The best advice we received was to be patient and wait out the strong head winds when they were established, then go like hell in lighter conditions.  We should also plan to make the passage in the so-called transition period between the SW and the NE Monsoon, that is, during April and early May. We determined to enjoy what would be the last major leg in unfamiliar waters.  It didn't work out like that as you will discover.

Aden to Khor Narawat, Sudan

We left Aden on 22nd March, in company with VAGABOND HEART and a Turkish yacht, YOL.  Our first destination was intended to be Massawa in Eritrea.  First, though, we had to get through the narrow entrance to the Red Sea, the Bab El Mandeb Straits, a name which translates as the "Gate of Sorrows".  Actually there are two straits with Perim Island separating them, the main one which is used by all the ships which pass this way and a narrower one, the Little Strait, about two miles across.   We chose to use the latter and to arrive at dawn, since Perim Island has a strong military presence and the garrison was said to be touchy about strange vessels approaching at night.  See Chart.  The other two boats sailed faster and took the main Strait without any problems.

The wind was from the South East, about twenty five knots, which gave us an easy ride under double reefed mainsail.  As dawn broke we made our waypoint, passed rapidly through the Little Strait without so much as a burst of tracer from the garrison on Perim Island and, voila, we were in the Red Sea.  So far, so good.

The wind, as expected, followed the coastline and blew even harder so we jogged gently along, enjoying the sense of starting a new adventure.  The Red Sea Pilot, by Morgan and Davies (essential for all sailors passing this way) advised that easier conditions could be found along the eastern shore and  we shaped our course accordingly, leaving all the islands to port.  (See Chart).  The wind blew harder still, thirty knots and more and the seas became steep with breaking crests.  We kept the sail well reefed and our speed down and were comfortable enough although at 0830 on the second morning a huge wave broke aboard and rolled us almost horizontal, half filling the cockpit.  Luckily we had put the lower hatch board in so the cabin remained dry but we were a little startled.  In 40,000 miles around the world in all sorts of conditions ALIESHA has never taken a wave aboard to fill the cockpit.

This incident had later repercussions.  At the time it merely convinced us to alter our destination from Massawa to a sheltered inlet,  Khor Narawat, further north in southern Sudan since that way we would keep the seas on our quarter and ALIESHA dry.

As we sailed north west the winds gradually abated.   Soon we had set full sail.  We had lost sight of our two companions but kept in touch through an evening radio schedule on the SSB.  They too had abandoned thoughts of Massawa and we agreed to meet in Khor Narawat.   By some chance ALIESHA overtook them both during the last night so we led the way in through the reefs to a large, irregular bay dotted with islands.  We chose the lee of one to anchor and were joined shortly by ALB and then by MIKLO 3.

We were thrilled.  We had had a fast passage from Aden with favourable winds and had covered the 570 miles in 94 hours, no breakages, little stress and we were about 40% of the way to Suez.   Red Sea?  Easy!

A relaxing three days followed.   The highlight was a beach barbecue with our fellow cruisers.  We had all caught fish on our approach and they formed the basis of a feast on the shore.  We had hooked two small tuna but sharks had taken all but the heads by the time we reeled them in. We'd also caught thee barracuda and kept the smallest, good eating and tasting almost like chicken.  Cooking was by steel barbecue and propane gas but the kids from VAGABOND HEART had scoured the shoreline for driftwood and lit a bonfire.  Its flames made it seem we really were on a desert island. 

Khor Narawat to Suakin

We departed Khor Narawat on 30th March in light winds and cloudy skies.  Clearly the convergence zone between the two wind systems in the Red Sea was over us and we could expect north sector winds for most of the rest of the trip to Suez.  Motor sailing, we noticed a slight misfire in the beat of the engine.  It was the first sign of the troubles which lay ahead.  However it wasn't serious and soon we had enough wind to sail close-hauled north west towards Suakin, about 100 nm away.  We broke the journey with a stop overnight in a reef anchorage about half way, wonderfully secluded and only spoiled by murky water,  not at all inviting for a swim or a snorkel.

The engine misfire was getting worse so we sailed all the way through the Shubuk Channel to the entrance to Suakin Harbour.  Shubuk is a tortuous channel through the reefs and islets that lie off the Sudansese coast at this point.  We arrived only a couple of hours after our chums who had motor sailed all the way.

Suakin has an interesting history and an even more interesting skyline, the old town resembling Dresden after the bombing in WW2. It was a slave trading port until the 1960's, said our guidebook.  Mohammed was the agent who handled formalities for visiting yachts.  Like his namesake in Oman, he arrived dressed in flowing white robes and round hat, a tall, dark, dignified man with excellent English.  Going ashore the following day we walked the half mile to the centre of town, the souk.  This was probably the poorest place we have ever visited  - certainly the only place without an Internet facility. Still the locals were friendly enough, greeting us in English with "Welcome' and the stallholders in the market were vastly amused at our ineffective attempts to barter.  Goats and donkeys were everywhere along with the occasional camel.  The ladies were not as fully veiled as in North Yemen and Oman, and some followed the Malaysian style of coloured garments and headscarves.  Most of our remaining stock of lollipops went to the stallholders' children and lower prices usually resulted, not that this was our goal.

But there really wasn't much to see or do.  I changed the filters on the engine and we pumped some dirty fuel from the bottom of the tank.  It seemed likely that the huge roll earlier on had stirred up sediment  and that this was maybe clogging one or more of the injectors on the engine.   We decided to go only a short distance the next day and to do it under power at full throttle to see if we could  blow the dirt out of the system.  With ALB and VAGABOND HEART in company we tried but it only made matters worse.  The engine now ran very erratically and would not reach more than half speed.  We soon reached Marsa Alam and anchored for the night, feeling quite depressed.

Suakin to Port Ghalib, Egypt  (see Chart)

Between our overnight stop in Marsa Alam (10 nm north of Suakin) and the Egyptian border lies some of the most entrancing cruising in the world.  There are reefs, bays (Marsas) and inlets in which to shelter.  The snorkelling and diving is world class.  When the winds were too strong, said the Cruising Guide, stay at anchor and enjoy.  Despite our engine troubles we still hoped to do just that.  So we departed Marsa Alam  with ALB and VAGABOND HEART at first light bound for Sanganeb Reef, about 20nm north east of Port Sudan. 

Our course took us up a wide channel between outlying reefs and the coastline. There was enough breeze to sail, although right on the nose.  We tacked gently up the channel, keeping a close eye on a large tanker which was coming south towards us, aiming for the oil loading buoy about 5 miles SE of Port Sudan and forcing us rather more to the east than we liked.  Still, we knew from our charts that as long as a particular stone beacon bore south or east of us we were in deep waters and clear of coral.

With a gentle crunching sound ALIESHA came to a sudden halt.  I was talking on the daily radio net and Pam, confident that we had tacked towards deep water, was busy getting breakfast.  Rushing on deck we could see that we were aground on the edge of a beautiful little coral reef.  Our stern was over deep blue water but two thirds of the boat was over the reef and we were well and truly stranded.

The sails were dropped and the misfiring engine put to work, to no avail.  Running astern it lacked the power to pull us clear.  So we radioed to VAGABOND HEART to give us a tow. Bill steered towards us cautiously and as he passed astern on a reconnaissance his wash gave just enough extra height to allow us to slide free.   Diving on the hull that evening I could see that all the paint had been rubbed from the lead keel but that otherwise ALIESHA was fine. Perhaps the worst damage was to the skipper's pride!

A reconstruction of what had happened revealed that the beacon  on which we had relied for our safety was NOT where it was shown to be on the chart by about half a mile.  Our charts are not up-to-date.  To keep them so is not practicable on a voyage such as ours.  The chart we had been using did bear a note.  "Beacons", it said "may be washed away and rebuilt elsewhere". 

The engine ran roughly as we entered the pass into Sanganeb Reef.  This is out of sight of land, has a huge and ugly light house at its southern end and is said to have great snorkelling.  Sadly once again the water was murky and the wind quite strong so we didn't feel like a swim.

By now we were seriously concerned about the engine. Our own skills and those of our companions could not identify the cause of the irregular running so we decided we had to leave our chums and sail straight to Egypt where, we hoped, we might find a mechanic.  The following morning we sailed away on our own, our destination Port Ghalib, the first port of entry across the Egyptian Border, about 400 miles to the north.  

That first night there was little wind so we used the engine to make a reef anchorage in the middle of nowhere.  At the helm, Pam would put the engine into gear and open the throttle only to find nothing happened for several seconds. Then a surge of power would come, followed by a return to tick-over revs.  Controlling ALIESHA was very difficult but she brought us through the coral heads to a safe resting place in the middle of the sea  and we passed a quiet night.

Getting into clear water again the next morning was even worse.  The engine would only occasionally give any power at all. With me in the rigging spotting bommies (coral heads) and Pam juggling the controls ALIESHA finally found deep water and as a breeze set in we motor-sailed away north.   Suddenly the engine died on us and refused to restart.  We agreed this was probably the best outcome as now we had no motor we would have to sail to our destination keeping well clear of dangers.

For 24 hours the winds were very light and frustrating.  A small sea caused the mainsail to bang and crash so we reefed it to cut down the noise and the wear and tear.  Next morning, with Pam chatting to our chums on the SSB I felt a decent breeze and went to unreef the sail.  To my horror the wire halyard came off the sheave (pulley) at the masthead and jammed fast, leaving the sail about thirty cm from the top of the mast.

With the wind due to increase soon there was only one thing to do.  Hastily we rigged the bosun's chair and Pam made ready to hoist me up to the masthead, for which we use the spinnaker halyard and the anchor windlass. 

It isn't easy to go up a mast while at sea. The motion  at deck level is magnified many times as you go higher.  Also, we normally run the engine to generate lots of current for the electric motor of the windlass but this time we couldn't and the motor kept overloading the circuit and tripping the breaker.  Pam would then have to go from the foredeck to reset the breaker, located next to the chart table.  During this time I was left dangling in the air, clinging to the mast and rigging for dear life.

Near the top of ALIESHA's mast is a radar reflector, a fibreglass tube about one metre long and maybe 20cm in diameter.  As the halyard inched upwards past this obstruction the snapshackle holding the bosun's chair caught under a mounting and, to my horror, opened.  I started to fall, then felt the upper spreaders beneath my feet.  It was a bad moment and it should never have happened.  One fundamental rule when going aloft is, "never rely on snapshackles".  You tie a knot instead.  Focused on getting the mainsail down before the wind rose too much,  I had forgotten this basic rule.

At last the mast head was reached, the sail unshackled  and I returned to the deck, shaking and nursing a set of bruises I will be happy never to have again.  The halyard remained jammed up there so we set the sail on the topping lift, double reefed it against the rising wind and sailed on.

It blew hard for the next 36 hours.  Painfully, slowly, ALIESHA clawed her way to windward through the steep seas which did their best to stop her progress.  It was wet and uncomfortable and we needed shelter and the chance to make repairs.  Although some 16 miles west of the direct route, Port Berenice offered both.  Some friends were already anchored there and once we were within VHF range they encouraged us towards them.  It was almost dark when finally ALIESHA came up to ALDEBARAN, LI and PACIFIC BLISS.  Pam steered her neatly between the others,  the anchor went down and we could relax for a while.

Next morning Pat from ALDEBARAN and Chris from PACIFIC BLISS wound me up the mast again to free the jammed halyard.  This was easily done in the calm water but sadly the sheave was damaged.  To overcome that problem Gunther from PACIFIC BLISS provided a new rope halyard and also a new topping lift, as ours had all but chafed through while doing duty as a halyard.  Then Lois came  over with a pizza and a cherry cobbler she had just baked.  Both ALIESHA and her crew were growing stronger by the hour.  Thank you, guys, for your help and support.

Two days later it was a quiet morning with no wind as dawn broke.  ALDEBARAN took ALIESHA in tow for our anchorage was 20 nm away from the main route north.  As we neared the open sea a breeze filled our sails,  the tow was cast off and we proceeded under our own rig.  Our companions opted to motor sail while we, of course, had to start the wearisome business of beating our way north.  It was a lovely day, for all that, a good sailing breeze, bright sunshine and blue blue sea.  We enjoyed ourselves.

Nightfall found us  about halfway to Port Ghalib and becalmed.  Unfortunately, following a favourable windshift, we had strayed far off the coast and found ourselves in the south-going shipping lane.  A steady procession of  container ships and tankers and general cargo vessels bore down on us and we were powerless to avoid them.  It was quite terrifying until we thought to use our DSC VHF radio to issue an " ALL SHIPS SAFETY" call.  This facility sounds a warning signal on the bridge of every ship within range and is followed by a voice broadcast  giving our name, position and the nature of the hazard we presented.  It worked.  If a ship seemed likely to come close I would issue a "Securite" call and the ship would answer, ask for details and then alter course.  We must have used this four or five times.

Around dawn a strong wind sprang up, soon raising the nasty short sea which is the trademark of these  waters.  We drove ALIESHA as hard as we dared, wanting to make Port Ghalib by nightfall but in those conditions we could not.  We tacked to and fro all night, slowly so slowly gaining ground.  Another dawn revealed the buildings of the Port and a fairway buoy.  Our problem now was how to enter with no engine and 25 plus knots of wind.

Alerted to our arrival by radio, Pat from ALDEBARAN had prevailed on the marina people to come out in a RIB to guide us in and maybe to provide a tow.  This is best done by lashing the dinghy alongside and steering the two boats with the larger one's rudder.  In the big seas that were running off the entrance, though, the crew of the RIB would have none of it.  So we sailed ALIESHA in through the entrance and in to the lee of the buildings.  Down came the sails and our momentum carried us to the reception quay and then the RIB pushed us alongside with Pat and Chris there as well to lend a hand. We had arrived in Egypt safely with ALIESHA unharmed!

Port Ghalib and Abdul the demon mechanic

Port Ghalib is the first port of entry in Egypt, lying about 200 miles north of the Sudanese border.  One day it will rival Port Grimaud in the south of France as a resort-cum-town, home to 20,000 people.  If you were to look at its web site you could not  fail to be impressed.  A network of basins and canals, joined by bridges and surrounded by apartments, houses and hotels, shops and restaurants is being constructed on the edge of the desert.  There will even be a golf course.  The operative words, though, are "one day".

For Port Ghalib is still under construction.  There are part completed buildings everywhere.  The network of basins is still being extended, roads are being laid down, services installed.  Bulldozers and earthmovers fill the air with their exhaust. The marina offices are up and running, as is one hotel which caters mostly for divers.  Alongside a quay near to the hotel there is room for maybe 20 yachts at a time as well as half a dozen large dive boats.  Customs are on site, but not Immigration, which means that the check-in process is very slow, some documents having to go to Hurghada 120 miles north for processing and others to the nearby airport.

We were not complaining.  ALIESHA was safely tied to a quay, had power and (with some difficulty) fresh water.  The hotel had a good restaurant and a bar and would sell us food and wine and beer, at pretty steep prices to be sure but compared to the cruising grounds we had just traversed this was luxury.

The marina manager and port captain is Capt Sherif Fawzi.  He and two of his team, Gamal and Ramy, spoke excellent English and assured us a mechanic could be found who would certainly solve our engine problems.  Twenty four hours later we met Abdul Rasik a small man in his fifties with a little English, boundless optimism and a great sense of humour.   He diagnosed the problem as a failed injector pump, swiftly removed the non-functioning part and departed, promising to return the next day or the one after with it fixed.

And he did, somewhat later than the time specified but this was Egypt and we were delighted when, late in the evening the engine started and ran without a hitch.  I was so pleased I even paid Abdul his asking price, certainly a mistake since in Egypt bargaining is normal and expected.

I was rather less pleased the following morning.  Starting the engine again for the pleasure of hearing it run we smelled exhaust fumes and diesel.  Investigating, Ifound that three of the four injectors were not seated properly and were blowing smoke into the engine room and that nine out of thirteen fuel line connections were leaking.  I worked all day to fix things but by nightfall all seemed well. 

As various friends had arrived in the past few days a group of us decided to hire a guide and a minibus and take a two day trip to Luxor.  That is probably worth a chapter on its own.  In brief it was a good trip, even though the journey took for ever as we were forced to join a convoy in Saffaga, 100 miles to the north.   We saw three temples, including Karnak.  We visited the museum, sailed in a felucca on the Nile and ate Egyptian food in local restaurants, as opposed to western food in tourist places.  It was a welcome break and one we felt we had earned.

Strong winds kept everyone in port for three days when we returned so I went diving with Sophie from another Turkish boat, MARDEK.   The coral was in good shape and the fish and turtles impressive, long may this state of affairs last.  Then conditions fell light and off we sailed in the early evening, our destination Hurghada, 120 nm north.

About 2030 hours the wind died away so we turned on the engine which ran perfectly for almost an hour.  Then, with a dull bang it stopped dead.  Turning it over with the starter produced no sign of life.  We were gutted. Still, we had to get back to a safe haven so we re-hoisted the sails and used the gentle land breeze to sail our way back to Port Ghalib, covering the sixteen miles in eight hours and arriving just after dawn.  This time there was not enough wind to sail in so we launched the dinghy, mounted the outboard and used its power to get us back to our berth. As we did so our friends on ALB and VAGABOND HEART were just leaving.  We told them what had happened.  Like us, at first they didn't believe it.

Abdul was summoned and arrived the next day.   He soon discovered the problem to be a broken camshaft, caused (we believe) by a valve having stuck in the closed position when it should have opened.   Was this the result of something he had done, or not done properly?  Thinking about it, we did not see how anything he had done to the fuel system could have caused this new problem so we asked him to remove the cylinder head  and check pistons and so on and to let us know what parts we should need to order from England.

Pam's brother David has a long business association with Volvo Penta and especially with the parts operation.  Through his contacts we were able to order the parts we needed.  These were dispatched by Fedex  and we sat and watched on the Internet as they moved swiftly to Cairo.  There they stuck " awaiting Custom's clearance".  We allowed the week-end (Friday/Saturday) to pass but still our parts were stuck.  Finally Capt. Sherif the Port Captain made some calls on our behalf.  He came up with the news that we had to appoint a clearance agent who would, for a fee,  handle the necessary paperwork and get our parts to us.  But first we had to contact the supplier in England and get him to send a fax to Customs naming our agent as the recipient.  It was Sunday in England with the May Day Bank Holiday to follow!  You can imagine our frustration.

ON the following Thursday the parts finally arrived in Port Ghalib.  We had an unwelcome surprise in the size of the invoice which accompanied them. I had been given a figure by telephone from the Agent's office. ($200.00 US)  The bill presented was for $285.00  I blew his top and refused to give more than $220.00 which was grudgingly accepted.  Truly, doing business in Egypt is different!

Abdul collected the parts that evening and returned the next morning with the cylinder head in which he had installed the new camshaft and valve and associated bits.  Six hours later our engine burst into life once more, although with smoking injectors and leaking fuel joints as before.  So Abdul was asked to return the next day to finish the job and to come on a sea trial with us.  After lunch we slipped our lines and motored into the main basin, then out to sea for over an hour. All seemed well, but we noticed that once the engine had warmed up the oil pressure was significantly lower than it had been.  It was just within limits, however, so we paid Abdul half what he asked for this time and cleared out for Hurghada, 120 miles north.  We had been in Port Ghalib for just on a month.

Hurghada and the Prince of the Red Sea

There was little wind as we motored out of the entrance, waving farewell to our friends in the marina office who had helped us so much.  Thank you, Sherif, Gamal and Ramy and the others, without you we would still be there!  We kept the engine going and hoisted the mainsail to steady us in the slight sea.   As the engine warmed up the oil pressure fell again to a new low.  We feared a further breakdown and decided to sail the 120 miles to Hurghada and save the engine to get into the newly built marina there.  We figured the breaking of the camshaft must have damaged one or more of the main bearings in the engine.  In Hurghada, a major centre and with 1200 dive boats, all with diesel engines, there should be good mechanics if further repairs were needed.

It was an easy sail as the winds were light or non-existent.  We made sure to stay away from the shipping lanes AND the reefs and duly arrived at the narrow channel leading up to Hurghada Marina.  This is about two miles long, a third of a mile wide and has the town on the west side and a beautiful expanse of reef on the east.  Pam sailed ALIESHA like a dinghy, tacking up the channel into the light breeze and then into the marina entrance itself.  We furled the sails, turned on the diesel and in less than five minutes were secured alongside.  A number of friends were already there and a party of us went off to a nearby restaurant run by two Swedish sisters where We enjoyed our first steak since leaving Darwin.

Next morning our euphoria at completing another leg turned to deep despair.  Could we count on the engine to get us the 200 miles to Suez and then the 90 miles through the canal and on to Turkey?  Should we take a chance on another local mechanic?  Could we face the stress of trying to get parts delivered from England?   While trying to decide the best course of action I called our agent for the Canal transit, Capt. Heebi of the Prince of the Red Sea Agency, to say we had been delayed yet again and why.  (We should explain that all vessels transiting the Canal are advised to employ an agent to handle the many formalities and that the Prince of the Red Sea is the agency most of our friends had used.)

To our surprise Capt. Heebi declared that he would visit us the next day in Hurghada to see our situation at first hand and to suggest some options.   It is 200 miles from Suez.  We were impressed.  He duly arrived, only eight hours later than he had said but he had phoned to warn us so we didn't mind.  He said had brought a mechanic, apparently with a full beard.  The local police regulate all movement within Egypt and had refused to allow this man to enter the town unless he shaved his beard, saying that he looked like a terrorist.   Not surprisingly the man refused, so  no mechanic.  However, Heebi suggested that we should try to motor the 75 miles to El Tur at the bottom of the Gulf of Suez and there to take a tow from a tug he would organise.  Apparently there was some restriction on the tug coming to Hurghada.  Once we reached Suez ALIESHA would berth alongside his own launch; a mechanic with Volvo Penta experience from the workboats of the Canal Authority would remove the engine, using our boom as a crane and would rebuild it as required on Heebi's stern deck.  He suggested we returned to the UK for the three to four weeks this might take.

It seemed a good way forward, indeed the only way forward.  If the Canal did have boats with Volvo Penta engines and this mechanic knew them, he would surely do a reasonable job.  He would know how to get hold of parts.  The prices mentioned  for labour were not high.  However we demurred over the tow.  When things get rough in the Gulf of Suez small craft turn back and seek shelter.  Being on the end of a towrope with poor communications didn't seem to be a good idea and could easily cause damage to ALIESHA.  We talked it through, agreed to retain the tow as an option, put it all on paper and paid a sizeable deposit.   By then it was eleven pm and Heebi left to drive back to Suez.

Next morning I ran the engine for 90 minutes, logging the way oil pressure fell as the temperature increased. Then he spoke with the Volvo Penta ASSIST call centre who set up a conference call with an engineer , pretty impressive stuff, we thought.  Based on our findings the engineer volunteered the opinion that we should be OK to motor to Suez and on through the Canal.  So next day we stocked the boat, said farewell to various friends and just after lunch motored out of the marina to make our way north.

Pam tidied away the warps and fenders as I guided ALIESHA into the channel.  Once the decks were clear I increased the engine revolutions to cruising speed and "Crump", the bl**dy thing stopped dead once again and would not restart.  Neither of us was really surprised.  We unfurled the genoa, sailed back into the marina and  into our old berth.  There we called Heebi with the news and had a cup of tea.

Things were looking serious.   We were getting desperate.  Heebi had said there were restrictions on taking the engine out and putting it on a truck to get to Suez, there to be fixed.  It seemed strange but  we believed him.  After all, this was Egypt and Egypt is far from the free country it would like to portray.

The outboard solution

JOANIE D and NIRVANA were to come with us.  We were glad of the company, feeling rather nervous about our new power plant and its mounting. We needn't have worried.  Conditions were ideal and we made the seventy five miles to El Tur on the southern end of the Sinai Peninsular in just thirteen hours.  We could have kept going but we were all tired and the forecast was for stronger winds so we agreed to stop for the night and see what weather the morning might bring.

Next day it was blowing  twenty knots and the seas were too steep for us to motor into.  Sailing up the Gulf of Suez is very difficult; we're not supposed to enter the shipping separation zones, nor should we approach the oil fields and drilling rigs too closely and there is always the added danger of coral reefs around the edges.  Calm conditions can change into 30 plus knot headwinds in a instant.  Motor sailing  as close to the wind as possible is the order of the day.  So we waited for the next weather window.  It was to be eleven more days before it came.  Most days the winds hovered around 25 knots in the anchorage, more in the Gulf.  For three days it averaged 30 knots and oil drill ships left their stations to take shelter.  Our food supplies started to run low.  All the books on board had been read at least twice.  We tired of Scrabble and Backgammon, our usual diversions. 

After four days we got to meet Ben, Captain of the oil rig support vessel Abou Youssef, and Rick who runs the windsurfing place in El Tur.   They said we could  go ashore on the seaward side of the harbour and use the hotel's restaurant and bar.  The following evening Jack and Joanie from JOANIE D collected the rest of us and we motored the hundred metres to the beach.  There we walked for a while, then made our way in search of dinner.  At reception the clerk had little English and fetched the manager.  This person was clearly most upset to see us.  "You MUST return to your yachts AT ONCE" he  said, looking quite terrified as he did so.  " It is forbidden for yacht crews to land.  I can get into serious trouble with the police."  He called the head of security and had him escort us back to the dinghy and that was that.

Captain Ben came to our rescue the following day.  He invited us on board, gave us a tour of the ship and then had his cook offer us what we needed from their own stores.  It was a generous offer and we had to insist on making some payment.  Thanks, Ben, you kept us from scurvy if not from starving!

All three boats had a different source for weather forecasts.  Ben added his own  and  Capt Heebi sent another by mobile phone/SMS each day.   They all mostly underestimated the strength of the wind by as much as 50% but all gave the direction accurately: North West, day after day after day and right on the nose.   We now knew we were  well into the summer winds which can blow hard for  twenty days at a time then drop for maybe twelve hours before resuming their unremitting blast for another long spell.  Finally a "window" was spotted but it seemed it wasn't going to last long enough for us to get to Suez.  We lacked the stores to risk getting weather-bound in another anchorage further north and so we said goodbye to the others and, when wind and sea had  fallen, motored all the way back to Hurghada Marina, where this is being written.   Seeing our friends go on their way was so very depressing but we were glad for them and they did make Suez.

Time to regroup, reflect and recover

This long saga of misfortune has been one of the most testing periods of our lives.  We seem to have been dogged by a long run of bad luck and probably took a few bad decisions.  However, using Abdul in Port Ghalib really was our only option.  The Volvo Penta agents in Egypt had failed to respond to two emails and were dismissed by Volvo ASSIST who called them on our behalf as "knowing nothing".  Declining a tow was a good decision; we have seen the short steep seas in the Gulf of Suez and believe we could easily damage ALIESHA if she were to be towed at any speed through them.   The outboard had seemed a good idea but we did know we would need at least 40 hours of quiet weather to make Suez. In May here were several such periods.  In the summer months we now know this is unlikely to happen. 

So now we are going to lay ALIESHA up and fly home for ten weeks, to give ourselves a much needed break from all the stress and hassle of the past three months.  Our diesel is still broken.  We have no faith in Egyptian mechanics and if we were to have the present engine repaired we would have no confidence in it.  We will buy and fit a new engine when we return at the end of August.

It seems strange to have sailed 40,000 miles around most of the globe and not to be able to make the 200 miles from here to Suez.  We are not afraid to sail when most of our fellow cruisers turn on their engines but there are times and conditions when a powerful inboard diesel makes it possible to go places you could not manage under sail alone and this is one of them.     

The Red Sea has posed us with our biggest challenge yet on this whole voyage and so far we have not overcome it.  But  (Inshallah) we will.