When Eric and I stepped off Corroboree onto the quarantine dock at Richards Bay, South Africa, it wasn’t quite our first time on the “Dark Continent.” In 1974 Eric spent one night in Cape Town on a business trip, and on our previous voyage in 1977-78, we did a memorable one-day tour from Gibraltar to Tangiers amidst a flock of British tourists who, with the exception of one adventurous elderly lady, scoffed at the idea of eating the exotic Moroccan lunch option of couscous—horrors! For the record, it was the British explorer Sir Henry Morton Stanley who, in a calculated marketing move, popularized the terms “Dark Continent” and “Darkest Africa.” By playing upon the common perception of Africa as a dangerous, unknown place, he aimed to sell more books.
Since every new country Eric and I visit is, in a sense, “dark” to us, we looked forward to becoming enlightened. First off, we can say that thanks to diligent advance work by Jenny and Natasha, two members of the Offshore Sailing Association of South Africa (OSASA), the entry procedure for foreign yachts was a breeze. A quick visit by a friendly Immigration officer, a bit of paperwork, and we had a 90-day visa, no charge. Natasha also personally drove Eric and other cruisers to the Customs Office and the phone store to set up our latest SIM card. On transferring to the very affordable Zululand Yacht Club, all cruisers received a free bottle of champagne, an invitation to club events like the weekly braai (barbecue), and a key to the restrooms where—miracle of miracles—we luxuriated in our first HOT showers since leaving Darwin in May. Ahhh!
Another luxury in Richards Bay was the gigantic Boardwalk Mall, the likes of which we had not seen since Panama City. A temple of consumerism to make your eyes goggle, it streamed with shoppers and included four major grocery stores bursting with fresh fruits and veggies and offering wonders like real English muffins, bagels, bulgur, canned refried beans, and cottage cheese with chives. We were astounded at the low prices of the produce. The total cost of all the items in the photo below was US$14 and extra-large eggs were US$2 per dozen. I didn’t notice the prices of meat, and canned goods were about the same price range as in the USA, but this is definitely a great place to be vegetarian. Alcohol was similarly cheap. A six-pack of the local brew, Castle, came to 84 cents per 500ml can, and perfectly good South African wine cost a mere US$4 per bottle.
Yet when we asked Google “Why is food so cheap in South Africa?” what popped up was a slew of articles declaring that food prices in the country were soaring out of control. Many basic items had increased by 10% or more in the past year; cooking oil rose by 63%. When I mentioned to one of the yacht club staff that compared to the USA, food prices in South Africa still seemed low, she gave me a simple reply: “But we don’t have money to buy it.” It was a well-deserved eye-opener and prompted further research. Despite the impression of affluence we got at the mall, the unemployment rate in South Africa is 25%-35% and youth unemployment is 66%. Some 55% of South Africa’s 60 million citizens live below the poverty level; 18 million live in extreme poverty. The numbers appear to be getting worse.
Another eye-opener was the phenomenon of “load shedding” in which the electricity is shut off two hours per day on a rotating schedule that is usually published in advance. We experienced it at the yacht club, the mall, and on the roads when all the traffic lights go out. The supposed explanation is that demand exceeds supply, but South Africans were quick to tell us that widespread corruption in the state-owned energy company Eskom is to blame. Numerous online articles bear out their accusation; as I write, the CEO of Eskom has just resigned. Corruption overall is seen as a fact of life in South Africa–in business and industries, the government, the police. In politics, one man explained, the only way to reach the higher levels of office is to engage in illicit deals from the start. The president of South Africa, Cyril Ramaphosa, elected in 2018 on an anti-corruption platform, is currently being investigated on charges of misconduct and conflict of interest involving US$580,000 found stashed in a sofa on his farm.
As for South Africa’s reputation for other types of crime, we soon gained firsthand knowledge. In a slick maneuver at an outdoor ATM machine, a con artist posing as a parking lot attendant made off with Eric’s credit card. I was in an adjoining store and came out to find him in a state of shock, surrounded by a half dozen shoppers who had stopped to help. They urged him to call our bank straightaway; the thief, they said, would already have dashed to another ATM and started withdrawals. Sure enough, in the 10 minutes it took for Eric to regain his wits and get the bank’s fraud department to cancel the card, the man made 6 withdrawals totaling US$1,800.
Fortunately, we are insured and the bank struck the charges from our account. Except for Eric kicking himself for being taken in, he wasn’t hurt. Please note that where one bad guy acted, six good people reacted. They didn’t leave until they were sure we were okay and that we had money and transportation back to the yacht club. On their advice, we filed a report at the nearby police station. The police were professional and courteous and later followed up with three telephone calls. Please contrast this with the general opinion that the police are corrupt. Though we never expected them to catch the man, we at least alerted them to a crime in their area.
It might seem surprising that with so much poverty, corruption and crime, tourism still plays a large role in South Africa’s economy. But just think “Africa,” and the first image that leaps to mind is a wildlife safari, an experience you won’t get anywhere else on Earth. Along with cruising friends Dick and Laura, we made a day trip to Thula Thula, a 4,500-hectare private game reserve an hour from Richards Bay. It was the home of the late conservationist Lawrence Anthony who became known as the Elephant Whisperer after he took in a herd of rogue elephants that would otherwise have been destroyed. In a safari car driven over the hilly terrain by our knowledgeable guide Victor, we saw impalas, nyalas, buffalo, wildebeests, zebras, giraffes, baboons and elephants, including Nana, the matriarch of the original herd. No hippos, rhinos or lions—we’ll see those on an excursion to Kruger National Park when we get to Cape Town—but armed with my new Birds of Southern Africa field guide and with Victor to help me ID them, I reveled in the birds.
After lunch at the lodge, Victor took us to the sprawling Zulu village that adjoins the reserve to meet a traditional healer, a Sangoma. What happened next was unexpected and totally unforgettable. Eric and I have been to sanctioned cultural performances before, such as the temple dances in Bali. They serve a good purpose, exposing travelers to the richness of a country’s culture while keeping traditions alive and generating income for the performers and the community. This was different. This was being invited into the Sangoma’s home with the door open to anyone in the village who wished to enter and join in the music and dance. Curious children soon appeared, and after the dance and with Victor translating, the Sangoma spoke and answered questions. We learned that a Sangoma uses plants, herbs and counseling to treat physical and emotional ailments. You cannot train to become a Sangoma, however. It is a gift that runs in a family and that you discover within yourself.
Then Eric asked the Sangoma and the assembled villagers if there was anything they would like to know about us. The Sangoma thought for a moment, then with a smile and a gesture around her, she said, “You live in big houses. How do you like being in my small house?” Whereupon we four cruisers broke into a laugh, and as Victor translated that we live on small “houses” in the form of boats, the villagers’ faces lit up in amazement and delight. Eric handed the Sangoma our boat card with the photo of Corroboree on the front and us on the reverse, and Dick and Laura showed cell phone photos of their yacht Maia. The Sangoma passed our card to the children, who pointed excitedly back and forth between our photo and us. I don’t know if the villagers had ever been visited by American sailors before, but there we were, people of different colors, languages and cultures, laughing together about our small houses. It was a remarkable experience, a rare and genuine moment of connection, and at Laura’s request, the Sangoma said she would pray for us that night.
We left Richards Bay on 6 December and reached the port of East London on the 9th. As we continue our voyage toward Cape Town, we hope for more beautiful encounters with the beasts and birds and people who call the “Dark Continent” home.