Swapping Pedals for Sails – Sailing the Indian Ocean

I’m bobbing in the middle of the Indian Ocean on board Leia B, an 11-metre sailing catamaran. When we crest the top of a wave I can see all the way to the horizon, 6 miles away, where the Earth’s curvature drags it from view. There is no land on the horizon. Except for a 1km uninhabited island of sand we passed a week ago, there hasn’t been land on the horizon for 15 days. Just an endlessly empty ocean-scape, a foreign environment to a non-sailing landlubber like me.

Two months ago I had no plans to go sailing, certainly not across an ocean. I sailed once before, many years ago with school friends, and it was an ordeal that mercifully lasted only a few hours. The boat had leaned over and I was sure it would capsize and sink any moment, which would have been a welcome relief from the seasickness I was battling. When we eventually survived I lay prostrate to kiss the land, and assumed I would never sail again.

So, how did I end up sailing across the Indian Ocean?

Well, if you followed my journey cycling around the world, you probably noticed that my plans change often. Or rather, I avoid making plans altogether, which allows me the freedom to seize whatever new opportunities present themselves. Such as a random email from a stranger.

While working in Australia, I had assumed I would make the short hop across the Tasman Sea to New Zealand next, but when an email popped into my inbox from ‘Wyn’ – ping! – I penned a reply immediately. Wyn is South African. 63 years old. I had never met him, but the little photo beside the email address showed a tanned man beaming a warm, genuine smile, and I liked him instantly. He left South Africa in January 2017, to begin his circumnavigation, first across the Atlantic to Brazil, Panama and Galapagos, across the Pacific to Tahiti and then Australia. The gist of the email: ‘Would I like to join ‘Leia B’ and sail the final leg of his adventure, across the Indian Ocean back to South Africa?’. It would be a 3 month crossing, from early September to late November, 5600 miles (9,000 kilometres) and stopping at several remote islands along the way. My heart hammered my chest as I replied that I would love to accept his offer.

5 weeks later I arrived in Darwin, Australia. It was 17 days short of a year since I arrived in Darwin with my bike, and returning rekindled the wild fire of emotions I had felt that first time, finally reaching Australia by bike after 5 years of dreaming. Warm tears had caressed my cheeks as the plane wheels kissed the runway; perhaps I would feel the same when I reached South Africa and concluded this adventure? Last time I had been filled with excitement and trepidation to head into the hostile Outback, and I felt the same again to be heading out to sea.

The three of us, Wyn the Skipper, and Crewmates Anthony and I, sailed from Darwin Harbour, watching the safety of land shrink rapidly behind us. At first, I couldn’t distinguish the other boats in the harbour, then the buildings also became difficult to see, and as the sun set and darkness greeted us, Darwin was just a warm glow of light beyond the horizon. In front, the water seemed to stretch forever and felt threatening in its absence of… everything. All my instincts screamed as we lost sight of land and open water encircled us. It would be 1,750 miles (2,800 kilometres) before we reached land again at Christmas Island. I hoped Wyn knew what he was doing.

Setting sail that first time was like that moment a rollercoaster begins. You’ve seen the loops and spins and corkscrews that await, you’ve listened to the screams of those before you, but you’re strapped in, the trajectory is set in motion and you’re committed. You’ve relinquished all control, and no matter how terrible or frightening the next minutes are, you’ve just got to sit and endure it. Well, I had just surrendered control for the next 15 days, and my fate rested in the hands of the Universe. If I hated sailing as I had that first time, if I suffered seasickness, if I disliked or argued with Wyn or Anthony, it would be a long 15 days to endure. I had signed a waiver for Wyn acknowledging and accepting the risk of piracy, freak weather and boat breakages, among other frightening scenarios which, if they arose, well… we were hundreds of miles from help, and would be reliant on our own ability to solve them.

But, I felt that familiar pang of excitement to be off adventuring again, which made my heart beat a little stronger and my eyes shine more brightly. Even that feeling that I had jumped outside my comfort zone felt oddly satisfying, for I knew all the challenges and development that would come with it. I leafed through the blank pages of a new journal and wondered what stories and experiences I would fill them with over the next months.

I'm off on the next adventure. Be sure to follow along!