Madagascar 2017 Cruising Notes - South Area

10.  SOUTH AREA

10.1 Introduction

10.2 Barren Islands
Pulau Bawah (xx°xx.xxN xxx°xx.xxE) is the 

Nosy Mavony

2015 Totem - (18°18.472S,43°44.942E), 65ft, Sand / Coral, South wind so anchoring on north side - not very good though. Poor holding with much flat coral. So so for flat, but lousy when wind against current. 

Nosy Lava (Barren Islands)

2015 Totem - Fish camp,18°34.838S,43°55.922E,37,Sand / Coral, NE side of island - so much better protection than the last island. The island and surrounding reef isn't so different, but other near islands reef keep seas flat. 

2015 Totem:  South of Madagascar’s Cap St Andre is a sprinkling of islands, around 15 nautical miles off the coast. They’re aptly called the Barren Islands: some are no more than long spits of sand, just a couple of meters above sea level, and most have no more than thin sandy soil.

We spent a number of days anchored off Nosy Lava (the third Nosy Lava we’ve encountered in western Madagascar!), the site of several Vezo fishing camps. In places like this, it’s good practice to go ashore and seek an elder/leader to ask permission to anchor, showing up in their backyard as we do. Boats in our wake: ask for the président campement. He arranged for us to bring our donations to a covered meeting space. It started off more organized, but actually turned into kind of a grab-fest very much like the prior day.

I sat down today with the intention of sharing a lookback post on things that went well (and things that didn’t) for our transit to South Africa as a follow up to the passage report, but while culling photos and reflecting, I kept coming back to these striking islands and the people we met in our final Madagascar stop. Yes, people. Because although these small, flat islands grow little more than scrub and some grass- if they grow anything at all- for much of the year they are home to semi-nomadic families from Madagascar’s Vezo tribe.

Our visit was at the latter end of their seasonal migration; in November, when the risk of cyclones begins to increase, they depart for the mainland. But during the dry monsoon, they sail their pirogues to these outlying islands, build seasonal camps, and live from what they bring and what they glean while drying fish to transport to market. 

The basis of Vezo culture is tied to the ocean: ply the water in dugout outrigger canoes, hand carved and carefully decorated. It’s hard not to compare them to the big metal trawlers we saw running lines just a hundred miles north, and wonder how the Vezo and their beautiful boats can compete with big commercial fishing operations. In fact, they can’t- their fishing grounds are threatened by industrial shrimp fishing and illegal fishing with SCUBA.

It turns out there’s another big risk to the Vezo besides the trawlers we saw. Mining can destroy the fragile ecosystem of islands, where turtles and seabirds nest. Runoff damages the surrounding coral reefs.  There’s been mining here in recent decades, and islands are again targeted for extraction by a politically powerful, well-funded Malagasy group. 

Vezo fisherman, through their community organization- the Vezo Miray Nosy Barren– recently wrote and signed a “lettre de doleance”  to help inform authorities, and raise attention to this threat to their livelihoods and the environment. It is a big challenge for them to face down political power in a country with deep-seated corruption.

We spent a number of days anchored off Nosy Lava (the third Nosy Lava we’ve encountered in western Madagascar!), the site of several Vezo fishing camps. In places like this, it’s good practice to go ashore and seek an elder/leader to ask permission to anchor, showing up in their backyard as we do. But before we could get the dinghy into the water to make our way in, a pirogue approached. Would we like to trade for lobster? We invited the paddlers to sit in the shade of the cockpit and passed around glasses of water. Did we have anything to trade? Communication is rough, but passable, accomplished with a mix of sign language, our feeble French (theirs wasn’t much better), and a great phrase book with French, English, and Malagasy gifted by friends up in Nosy Be.

Trading for lobster sounded great: succulent tails drizzled in garlic butter and seared on Solstice’s barbecue later made a memorable dinner shared with friends. But although trading is a mutually beneficial and enjoyable aspect of our life, this time around, we weren’t actually all that interested in trading. As we learned more about the subsistence lifestyle led by the Vezo, and saw for ourselves how little they have, it seemed like the perfect place to give without seeking an exchange.

Living on a boat, we’re always chasing simplicity. In part, it’s an ideal for how we live. It’s also based in practicality, because we have very limited space: the walk-in closet of my past life is a far cry from the couple of shelves in a locker I share with Jamie now. But we have plenty, and we have access, and we will be able to buy new duds in South Africa. This was the perfect time and place to go beyond a few tee shirts for gifts. We tried to work out who the local leader was, but didn’t know what words to use – my English/French/Malagasy book has phrases for “what tribe are you from” and “does your tribe have a king” – not helpful, and didn’t to help us establish who the village leader was (and no, it turns out, the Vezo have no king!). Absent a leader, there was some chaos when we brought our first bag to shore for gifting.

We did finally figure it out on the second day. Boats in our wake: ask for the président campement. He arranged for us to bring our donations to a covered meeting space. It started off more organized, but actually turned into kind of a grab-fest very much like the prior day.

The third day, we realized each little camp on Lava has their own president. Eventually met three different encampment leaders there. And after that first visit, we went back through our closets and decided there were a whole lot of things we hadn’t felt worth giving away, and others that we had thought we’d hang onto for ourselves, that all ended up in another series of bags that went to shore. 

Also appreciated was fresh water. There’s a well, but it’s not good drinking water. We ran our watermaker daily to fill jerry cans, ferrying ours to shore to decant to others and topping up any that were brought out to Totem.

To learn more about what’s happening in the Barrens, check out the site of an NGO called Blue Ventures. Among various projects, they’ve been working since 2010 to create Locally Managed Marine Area (LMMA) encompassing the Barrens; it would be the largest reserve of it’s kind in the western Indian Ocean.

Reef assessments shared by Blue Ventures show that the Barrens have SIGNIFICANTLY more fish biomass and coral cover than any other marine reserve in Madagascar. It holds five species of marine turtle, endangered seabirds, eight species of critically endangered sharks – 51 threatened species in all. Across Indian Ocean reef assesments, only Chagos exceeds the biodiversity and density of the Barrens. To those who know anything about Chagos, this speaks volumes. But these islands are very much at risk, and Blue Ventures is working hard to bring positive change. Blue Ventures’ mission extends beyond marine life. Their LMMA proposal would safeguard the livelihood of indigenous people and their fishery; the holistic plans in BV’s other projects here include health care, education, marine management, and more (Blue Ventures has a factsheet on the Barrens, is available at this link).

Other than the initial meeting and query about trading for lobster, we didn’t attempt any trade. But one afternoon, someone noticed that I liked the model outrigger canoes. And one after another, little outrigger models started showing up on Totem. A couple of them were even completed in our cockpit, colored in with the oil pastels we were giving them for kids! 

The Barren Islands made for an unforgettable stop, with people who were fun and interesting and enjoyable to spend some time with. We spent hours every days with visitors on the boat trying to talk (with varying degrees of success). I wish we could have stayed longer, but we were watching for weather conditions to sail from Madagascar to South Africa – and when the weather said ‘go’, we went!

If we could do it again, we’d go with more time (yes, I say this often, but I really do mean it!). The reefs begged exploration. I’d have fulfilled my dream to go sailing in a pirogue. But hopefully, someday we’ll be back, and see how the Vezo are doing.

10.3  Port d’Ehoala/Ft Dauphin/Taolagnaro (S25.07 E46.96)

2011 Papillon - Papillon and Nauti Buoy Too arrived in Port d’Ehoala on Saturday afternoon, September 17, 2011 after battling 20 knot headwinds and 2-3 meter breaking seas for 5 hours. The new port, built by Rio Tinto Mining, has only been open for a couple of years. It offered safe berthing behind the breakwater and cement quay. Papillon rafted to Nauti Buoy Too to complete formalities. The harbormaster, Nicholas, was very helpful. He called an agent (MSC) who organized the officials who came to the quay. Because the facility was built for ships, the sailboats sat so low that we couldn’t get off and they couldn’t get on.

The authorities in Port d’Ehoala/Ft Dauphin aren’t used to cruising boats, and are going out of their way to make their annual budgets on us. The MSC agent initially asked US$100 each for himself, Customs, Immigration, Health, and Police. Nauti Buoy Too negotiated US$80/agency and paid it on arrival. Papillon stalled, saying we needed to get local money (Ariary, or MGA) from the ATM, and insisting on invoices in writing from each of the agencies. Immigration came back with $80 OR 100,000 MGA ($50.00). We challenged the agent, then told him we’d pay only MGA 100,000 per agency. A third boat, Moonbeam, came in and was given invoices for MGA 100,000/agency right off the bat. Nauti Buoy Too registered displeasure with the agency...but didn’t get any $$ back.

Meantime, the Port d’Ehoala manager met with the yacht captains re: port charges. We’re the first cruising boats they’ve had, and while they claim not to have invoiced us at commercial rates, they did present each boat with a 300 Euro bill (US$420). The captains protested loudly...especially since Mauritius and Reunion were between US$80-115/week, including power and water...where as we were anchored and had to generate our own p&w.; After much negotiation, they got down to around 120 Euros + 20% VAT, which is about $200.

The port fees plus agency and check-in came to US$450, making this stop our most expensive ever. Upon leaving, officials from Ft. Dauphin attempted to collect another US$400 per boat, but the yacht captains refused to pay.

Port d’Ehoala wants to attract cruisers, and has plans to install a floating dock inside the breakwater. They are reconsidering their fees and are working with the officials to come up with something more reasonable. However, cruisers are advised to contact the port and an agent and insist on a quote in writing before heading there. (The old Ft. Dauphin anchorage in the heart of the town is a security risk and not recommended.) Nicholas also asked that yachts contact the port by e-mail before leaving their last port. See www.ehoalaport.com for current contact information and charts of the port.

Although well protected from wind and wind waves, there was considerable surge within the quay. It was more comfortable to move outside to the anchorage, which both Nauti Buoy Too and Papillon did on September 18. The Port d’Ehoala anchorage is open to the NE. Even in easterly winds, the fetch can become extreme. During our stay we sat out 24 hours of 30-35 knot winds and 3’ fetch in 15’ of water, during which we broke one bridle at the devil’s claw and chafed through a ¾” nylon line on another. To top it off, the port was loading titanium ore on a ship. The ore is black before processing to the white pigment titanium dioxide. We were well dusted with black grit.

10.4  Toliara (S23.38 E43.66)

2011 Papillon - Papillon, Nauti Buoy Too, and Moonbeam arrived in Toliara on Friday afternoon, September 30, 2011 and couldn’t raise an official on the radio. The captains went into the dock to find the harbormaster, but no luck. They did meet Germain and Zose who offered services as a guide and driver for MGA 70,000/day no matter what we did. G&Z; took them to the harbormaster’s office in town & they completed the paperwork. The word was that we’d each need to pay something around MGA 70,000 upon check-out. He made it sound like he was the only one we’d need to see, but...

Saturday we went in to go to town and were met by Customs on the dock. Nauti Buoy Too had used his dingy to ferry all of us, as his crew was staying on the boat and could just come and get us when we were ready. That meant we didn’t need to leave a dingy on the dock. The Customs agent desperately wanted to come see the boats but had a meeting so we went by his office to have our crew lists stamped. He was angry that we hadn’t checked in with him on Saturday, but told the Captains that we could get duty free fuel for a payment of MGA 45,000 (per boat? collectively???). We had papers to bring back Monday morning to initiate the fueling process.

Monday the captains went in at 7:30 am to get the papers stamped and order the fuel. Germain & Zose drove and were coordinating the fuel purchase. Customs wiggled and waggled and OKed taking on fuel for the fee of MGA 30,000/boat, but there was no duty free discount. There was another office to visit to get another stamp, then the oil company. The oil company charged MGA 2600/liter, when the pump price was MGA 2580/liter. We understood that the price was delivered. The truck was supposed to be on the dock at 11:00 am, but didn’t come until 2:30 pm (dead low tide). We each, in turn, rafted to a tug and they delivered the fuel. Only Papillon was capable of measuring exactly how many liters were taken on, and we were 47 liters short out of 400 liters ordered. The oil company manager showed up hours later to get his money and was indignant that we said we’d been shorted 12% of the order. He was worried that we’d shorted the money, but we paid him the agreed amount. Then he wanted another MGA 100,000 for the truck. The captains wouldn’t pay, so the guide and driver offered to handle the problem because they had organized a fixed price deal for the fuel. (Note: This “scam” for the privilege of taking on duty free fuel in Madagascar is wide spread. In fact, the wholesalers have paid the duty, and if they back it out of the price for the cruisers they have to apply for a rebate from the government. The government is broke and won’t rebate the amount of the duty. Hence, no one will honor the duty free price anywhere in Madagascar, but there’s no way to know that before you pay Customs for a “duty free” permit.)

Between 10:00 pm Monday night and 1:00 am Tuesday morning Nauti Buoy Too’s dingy was stolen. He offered a US$1000 reward (MGA 2,000,000) to no avail. A boat captain told him that there’s a local mafia that makes it unsafe to be in town at night, or to look too hard for stolen goods.

We wouldn’t want to have missed Mauritius or Reunion, as they were both highlights of our trip around the world. Southern Madagascar however, was not comfortable in any sense of the word. Due to the alternating high and low pressure systems moving east from South Africa, making the jump between Reunion and SA in one jump can involve some rough weather, so it’s a hard choice to not stop to wait for safe weather windows. Tucking in along the shore, but not visiting major towns, or going the more traditional route around the top of Madagascar are both certainly worth considering.