Today, I’m leaving the Seychelles behind. I have mixed feelings. On the one hand, I’m eager to set sail and continue south into the Indian Ocean. On the other hand, the Seychelles have been a meeting place where my girlfriend and my family came to visit me. I imagine that, in a few years, I’ll look back on these experiences that I’m lucky enough to have had. Now, as I leave these islands behind, I feel that these memories should also stay here, so I can keep a clear head and focus on what lies ahead.
I go out on deck with my cup of coffee, and it’s a rainy day—cooler than usual. It smells like wet earth. It hasn’t smelled like this since the Marquesas Islands. I’m transported back to Nuku Hiva, and for a moment, a couple of memories of my favorite island come flooding back. I sit down and, listening to the sound of the rain, drink my coffee while I check the weather one last time.
With the Sofía gliding along to the rhythm of the sea, I weigh anchor and set course for Mayotte, about 800 miles to the southwest. As the Seychelles grow smaller behind the stern, the sky clears, and the sun begins to peek out. The solar panels are charging the batteries at full capacity. I’m sailing with a 17-knot wind from 135° (T), and the Sofía is cruising at 6 knots. The waves are hitting us from the side, and the Sofía is rolling from side to side as she rides the crests of the waves.
I’m facing my first night after two months without sailing at night. It’s quite overcast—so much so that I can’t even see the crescent moon. I have to keep an eye on the radar to spot any possible showers. Around 3:00 a.m., one passes by the bow, but I trim the sails to slow down and let it pass. I return to cruising speed. I manage to get a little sleep.
At 5:30 a.m., the sky is already beginning to lighten, and the spectacle of sunrise begins. With a few cumulonimbus clouds on the horizon and the sun peeking out in the background, I have my first cup of coffee. Then, I head to the chart table and study the area. There’s a small atoll about 100 miles away called Alphonse, and I’ve read that it’s a good anchorage to rest and check the weather forecast for the next few days. I decide to anchor there for a day. If all goes well, we’ll arrive tomorrow morning.
The second day is wonderful. Clear skies, not a cloud in sight, and a steady 17 knots from the southeast. The swell has died down a bit, but it’s still making life on board pretty difficult. Boiling water to make myself a simple cup of coffee is quite a challenge. I’m living off chocolate oatmeal with milk, rice with vegetables that I’d already cooked, and packets of freeze-dried food.
The sky is full of birds flying among the crests of the waves, and they keep me company all day long. A few hours ago, some AIS targets appeared on the chartplotter screen that appear to be buoys with drifting fishing nets. There’s a line of about 10 buoys, each spaced about 3 miles apart. I decide to navigate between them and hope I don’t get caught in any nets. I leave the AIS targets astern without seeing any nets among them.
The night follows the same pattern as the day. The sky is crystal clear and full of stars. Tonight, the moon lights up the deck of the Sofía. Before turning in, I sit on deck watching the stars and trimming the sails a little to slow down so we’ll arrive at Alphonse by dawn the next morning. The night is quiet, and I sleep for no more than 30 minutes at a time; then I go out on deck to check everything.
At dawn on the third day, the atoll comes into view on the horizon. At 8:00 a.m., I’m sailing on its leeward side, and the strong current slows the Sofía down to two knots. It takes me 5 hours to cover the last 10 miles. I drop anchor in six meters of water, near the reef, so it can serve as a protective barrier against the waves. I’m on a patch of sand—the only possible spot to drop anchor; all around me, the water is 60 meters deep.
The sun is shining, and the entire submerged reef is brown. On the other side, inside the lagoon, the water is crystal-clear and turquoise blue. As soon as I turn off the motor, I spot three turtles. They’re swimming in the distance, and I follow them with my eyes. They stick their heads up every now and then to keep an eye on me.
I spent the day swimming around the boat and doing a little cleaning. I try to eat dinner early and go to bed, since I’m gradually starting to feel the effects of the lack of sleep from the previous nights. Tomorrow I’ll spend the day here.
