Torries

january/february 2017

cruisingworld.com

58

E PLAY A GAME ON MOMO, OUR MASON

43. WHEN WE ARRIVE IN A NEW PLACE, WE THROW OUT OUR FIRST IMPRESSIONS BEFORE WE HAVE

TIME TO BUILD UP ANYTHING ELSE. BEFORE WE ESTABLISH ANY RHYTHM OR CREATE ANY LAST-

ING FEELINGS. THEN, AFTER SPENDING A FEW MONTHS IN THE PLACE, WE COMPARE NOTES TO SEE

HOW OUR EARLY IMPRESSIONS HAVE DEEPENED OR CHANGED. IN INDONESIA, OUR CREW OF FOUR

— MY HUSBAND, BERNIE, DAUGHTERS LOLA AND JANA, AND ME — ARRIVED IN THE KAI ISLANDS

AFTER SPENDING 10 YEARS IN THE PACIFIC. WE NOTED OUR EARLY IMPRESSIONS IN THE LOG:

“GENTLE, ACTIVE, SMILING, LOUD, CURIOUS, WELCOMING, PHOTO-OBSESSED, SMOKING, ISLAMIC.”

Then, after nearly two years in Southeast Asia, we

arrived on the other side of the Indian Ocean in what

felt like the other side of the world.

“Bustling, colorful, uninhibited, sails, dusty,

poor, welcoming, bright, edgy, energetic, red dirt,

thrumming, loud,” I wrote in the log when we

arrived in Madagascar.

Even before we arrived, we could smell Madagascar

from off shore: the hint of burning wood and grass,

something green, something else faintly sickening

and almost sweet. Something mysterious, some-

thing ancient — but new to us. We snapped photos

of our colorful fi rst impressions: dancing women and

children, drumming men and boys. Embroidered

tablecloths and post-colonial police stations. Friendly

lemurs that reminded us of Madagascar, the animated

movie, and curious chameleons. Ebony zebu herded

along dusty red roads. Silvery fi sh drying in the sub-

tropical sun. Fishing kids and sailing skiff s.

But there was more to Madagascar, more than we’d

understand even if we stayed on a while.

J

ust east of Mozambique, Madagascar is the

fourth-largest island in the world. Its culture is

a delightful convergence of Europe, Africa and the

Middle East, as evidenced by the gourmet French

meals, baked goods, mélange of rum drinks, vibrant

materials for both traditional and modern dress, and

the combination of French and local Malagasy lan-

guage. A fl eet of sailing dhows scatter up and down

the coastline daily, triangular sails set against the ris-

ing and setting sun, reminiscent of traditional Arab

sailing vessels.

In Madagascar we found lemurs, ylang-ylang, dis-

tilled rum, vanilla, dancing, late-night revelry, lazy

mornings and lavish lunches.

We arrived in late August after 25 days’ sail-

ing from Sumatra. We were originally headed for

Rodrigues, but had changed our plan midcourse

when the Indian Ocean got a little too rowdy. The

weather maps showed more intense wind and waves

to the southwest, so we bore away 30 degrees. By

the time we rounded Cap d’Ambre, Madagascar’s

northern tip, and began the comparably softer sail-

ing down the protected northwest coast toward the

island of Nosy Be, we were happy to have made the

change in course. We were sorry to miss Rodrigues

and had added an extra 500 miles to our passage,

but who can complain when you drop anchor after

more than 3,000 miles in a town called Hell-Ville?

We just had to chuckle.

O

ne of the first things we noticed when we set

the hook in Hell-Ville, as the city of Andoany

is commonly known, is that it’s a sailing world.

We quickly discovered that the people of coastal

Madagascar rely on the local breezes to bring them

out into the bay and back again. Madagascar is out

of the trade winds, so the breezes are land- and sea-

based. The wooden dhows we saw had no motors — a

WE DIDN’T

HEAR

BOATS

VROOM-

VROOMING

OR TUK-

TUKING BY;

INSTEAD

THEY

SAILED IN

AND OUT

OF THE AN-

CHORAGE.

We tried to be

curious yet cau-

tious guests, and

traded fi rst-world

clothing and

tools for bananas,

mangoes and

other local goods.

W

CW0217_FEA2_madagascar.indd 58 11/23/16 10:42 AM