Location: 5° 38.5 S, 53° 47.6 E
Sunday 12:00, 11.19.2006

At noon today the Maggie B was at 5° 38.5 S 53° 47.6 E underway from DesRoches Island to Port Victoria on Mahe, Seychelles. The wind is light and variable. We are motor sailing slowly, making about 4 knots with just 1200 RPM on the engine. Mahe is just 118 NM and we will be there Monday morning.

I spent a lot of time with a bread knife (serrated blade) and ice picks, diving on the prop, trying to get the burnt plastic fried remains of the rope out of the shaft. I remember the happy old days (OK, the water in Maine was cold) when once you cut the rope off, all was OK. Now the space age ropes fuse themselves into a solid black plastic that is almost indestructible. I’m afraid that we will have to get hauled (again!) in Mahe. The only way to be sure the shaft is clear and the bearings are OK is to pull the shaft. We seem to be getting satisfactory cooling for the shaft bearings at these reduced RPM’s. I don’t believe that I have fixed it, but perhaps some cooling water can now get through.

DesRoches

We sailed into DesRoches Island (named after Francois Julien DesRoches, governor of Mauritius from 1767 to 1772) on Friday night, slipping into the lagoon with the help of our forward-looking sonar. It was so strange to come in from big waves and weather, past a hidden reef (it was night), to anchor off an island barely visible in the inky black. We cleaned up a bit and rowed into the Five Star DesRoches Island Lodge, to be turned away from dinner by the manager who was appalled that people could “just show up” and expect to join them. But he did agree to allow us to have lunch and dinner the next day.

On Saturday we walked and snorkeled and ate marvelously. But we also discovered the DesRoches Island Mystery! Hannah, Willis and Bori had gone ahead to discover the village and check out the rumors of giant tortoises on the island. I had pressing business to finish my book, sitting under a palm tree.

One of us must go!

I then headed down the island road towards the village, to admire the birds and spiders and lizards. As I was walking down the totally deserted road, a figure in camouflage carrying an AK-47 appeared from a bush about 50 yards away and started to walk on a converging path. What to do? He looked in excellent shape and clearly could outrun me even if I had a head start, and anyway, he had the gun! So I continued until we intersected. I was not relieved to see two knives, a pistol and extra ammo. The AK-47 was not raised, but his finger was on the trigger. We talked in French. He said that he was with a Seychelles Army Commando Unit, based in Mahe, but he had been sent out to DesRoches on a special mission. What special mission? “Pout tuer un boeuf.” What — I became unsure of my French. Yes, there was a wild steer on the island that had been terrorizing the locals as well as the Lodge guests and the Manager had complained to the government: “It is him or me — one must go!” (Love the French!). So a Commando was sent out licensed to kill. He was to stay until he succeeded. The island had once supported 900 cattle and all but two were removed. One had been killed a year ago and this last steer is now both canny and grumpy. The Manager confirmed the story and said that his chef was in readiness to celebrate victory with a barbecue.