After three weeks of intense work we cast off the lines for our first sailing trip aboard Nesi, our new-to-us 60 ft catamaran.

We hustled for 3 weeks until the very last second to wrap up projects. We needed help, but struggled with the labor force… Luckily we had amazing co-op members coming: both to help us prepare the boat, and do a “shake down” of the boat with us.

Ian Weedman, a master rigger from Port Townsend and Green Coco co-op member for a decade, joined for this cruise. He had plenty of stories from his 3 day layover in Istanbul. He was an absolute life-saver: readying the sails, the davits to hoist the dinghy, the rainwater catchment, and preparing to remove the mast, which we were scheduled for immediately after this cruise.

We had a gap of 1 month before the next teacher joined us, so Susie (Kristian’s mom) came from Brazil to spend time with us. It was a delight seeing grandma playing with the little ones 🙂

Our guests for this 10 day shake down cruise were Judy & Matt, co-op members who first joined us in a Marquesas trip aboard Aldebaran in 2017 (Hiva Oa to Nuku Hiva). They are supremely easy going, super positive folks, ready to lend a hand at all times. They were happy to help us “figure out the boat”. They were perfect crew for our shakedown cruise.

What is a “shakedown trip” anyway? It is like a sea trial on a boat, to see what “shakes down” and falls, ie to discover what isn’t working properly. This was part of our passage preparation to head to Madagascar in late April.

The weather in Seychelles during March is highly variable with constantly changing winds. There was a brief spurt of SE wind on the forecast before the North winds returned.

We decided on a route to follow the wind, heading from Mahe to North Island (21nm) and then due north to remote Bird Island (46nm), before returning South to the main cruising ground of Seychelles: Praslin & La Digue.

Casting off the lines meant that we could finally take a pause from the non-stop work. We were cranking on fifth gear, burning midnight oil late night. I had over-estimated the competency of Seychelles as a place to outfit a sailboat. Since there is a huge charter fleet, I figured there would be competent workers and ample spare parts. I was fairly wrong on both counts.

Getting spare parts was like playing Russian Roulette with disgruntled government officials — our parts were stuck in customs for weeks, accruing “storage fees”, meanwhile halting any kind of work flow. The supplies for marine stores were stuck in container ships, way over-due because of the Red Sea conflict with the Houthis in Yemen. I had to resort to our tried-and-true technique: rely on our co-op members to bring huge bags of boat parts (!)

The other tough part of working in the Seychelles were.. the boat-workers. Managing them felt like pulling teeth with rusty pliers — painful, and usually causing more harm than good.

IF they even showed up for work, which was rare, they over-charged wildly and under-delivered. Besides a few exceptions, we were left fending for ourselves, trying to do almost everything alone, and of course falling behind.

Hence we were enormously grateful when Ian showed up. He was the cavalry that saved the army from falling into disgrace.

Anchoring that first night at Ile Cerf, we had to accept that the boat was not “ready”, but it’s what we’ve got at this exact moment. I felt a familiar combination of anxiety and relief… a sense of fatalism that things will inevitably fail, yet the courage and self-sufficiency to know we have the resources aboard to deal with whatever happens.

And the fresh air of the sea! It immediately re-invigorates even the most troubled self-doubter. We played in a sandy beach, filled our gasoline tanks the next morning at the Taylor Smith boatyard’s station, then raised sail for North Island, our first time under way by sail aboard Nesi.

This island was recommended by the previous captain of Nesi, Patrick, who had been working with us to prepare the boat. Along with our manager Vincent and a handful of other people, Patrick was a rarity in the Seychelles, super reliable and straight-shooting, reflecting the true integrity of a captain. These are the guys that gave me hope! I was happy to get his advice for our route.

We arrived in North Island at a stunning beach. The crew swam and paddled kayaks to shore. Sabrina had the girls on a kayak and barely dodged a little breaking wave, but landed without trauma. The place was idyllic and a had a fancy “Robinson Crusoe” shack used by the resort on the island.

At 3am the next dawn, we raised anchor and headed north toward Bird Island. We had 46nm (nautical miles) to go. In terms of planning, this is 8 hrs at 6kts (our average speed) but it could be 10-12 hrs if we were sailing slowly, as expected with the light SE winds.

The 12 knot breeze gave us perfect broad reach — a glorious feeling to truly sail our new boat for a few hours! Then the breeze dwindled to nothing. We sailed slowly and finally motored to arrive at 1:30pm in the NW corner of Bird Island.

The sun was scorching. I have never felt a more intense sun, like a flamethrower! I suppose it’s because we are close to the equator at 3 degrees south, with zero wind and no clouds. The brave souls who went to the beach (everyone but the captain, who was napping) reported blinding glare in the sand dunes and unforgiving heat without shade. What was this rugged place??

Bird Island was purchased by a pioneering Argentinian family in the 70s and they run a simple hotel here, supported by a dirt airstrip. They have a cult following of visitors who return year after year and remain sometimes for weeks, enjoying the pristine environment and distinct community feeling. Read more about Bird Island here.

Ironically, the islands used to be called Ile aux Vaches, or island of cows, for the sea dugongs that lived there. However, those are now gone, and instead, millions of birds have taken over. The Argentines had the insight to plant a lot of trees decades ago, which now support a hugely important nesting area for birds in the region. Brown Noddies and Fairy Terns and Frigates fly the skies.

There are also lots of Giant Tortoises — besides the Galapagos, the Seychelles has the only other native population of Giant Tortoises left in the world.

Although the fishing around the island is reportedly excellent, the snorkeling left a lot to be desired. Vast expanses of sea grass covered all sides of the island, with scarce traces of coral. According to the island manager this is naturally occurring and historically normal. This ecosystem was very different than what we expected. After circumnavigating the entire island by dinghy (thanks to the calm conditions) we found some interesting snorkeling in the NE corner of the island with plentiful jacks and clear water.

Two boat systems failed during the trip. In other words, we succeeded in our mission of “shaking down” (!)

The first issue was the jib furler detached: the aluminum foil supports that roll up the sail. That was a job best done at the dock, or better yet, when we removed the mast as we planned to do.

The second issue were the batteries and lack of solar power. Some part of the 800 amp/hr, 8-battery system was defective, and I needed to troubleshoot this with an electrician. We can only discover this by putting the boat through real world testing at anchor, as we were doing right now. Regarding the solar power — we need lots, that was never a big mystery.

Another system related to power was already non-functional: one of the engine alternators. We were hoping to see a mechanic in Praslin, since we had such a tough time scheduling one in the main island of Mahe.

After 2 nights with a musical backdrop of bird-calls, it was time to leave Bird Island and head to Praslin & La Digue. These are easily the most famous and easy to reach islands in Seychelles, and for good reason. We woke up at 4am, with fingers crossed for another 40 nautical mile sail …

To be continued next week!

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