28 October 2000
It is just before 5 am. I am lying awake listening to the Muslim morning call to prayer. Roger stirs, mumbles a curse about the noise at this early hour, turns over and pulls the pillow over his head.
I feel a pang of sadness. Our holiday has come to an end and we will soon be off to the airport to catch our flight home. But, we had a wonderful holiday and there will be many more to come.
It all started a few years ago. One of the first things Roger and I did together after we met was to go on a scuba diving course. That was in February 1996. Since then we’ve been on a number of dive excursions. Most of them memorable; albeit for very different reasons.
This trip was our first live-aboard excursion. We would be diving with our friends Chris and Desirée Welgemoed who owned and operated a 21,5 m steel catamaran, the MV Illusions, between Zanzibar and Pemba Island, Tanzania.
Desirée and I go way back. We worked together as programmers at an IT company in Pretoria. Her then fiancé Chris, an ex-military perfectionist, was building the steel hull on a plot in Menlo Park, Pretoria East. It was a massive undertaking, not least of all transporting it by road down to the coast after the build was complete.
Desirée and I were on site for the implementation of our project at the Alusaf Hillside Smelter in Richards Bay when the time came to launch the boat. There was labour unrest at the time and strikes were the order of the day. It so happened that we were instructed to stay away from site on the day the boat would be launched. There were no complaints from us. Our whole team spent an entire nail-biting afternoon at the Richards Bay Small Craft Harbour watching the crane lift the almost 100 tonne structure off the transport unit and lower it into the water. Tensions were running high, with lots of panic, shouting of orders and frayed nerves until it safely touched down after what felt like a lifetime. Thankfully all ended well.
Then the next big job began; finishing off the interior. Once the build was complete and they had all the necessary paperwork the two of them got married, Desirée resigned, and they took to the seas.
They had been operating their charter business, offering diving and fishing trips between Zanzibar and Pemba Island in Tanzanian waters, for 3 years when Roger and I booked this trip with them.
We had a pleasant flight. Chris was waiting for us at the airport when we arrived in the afternoon on the 21st October. He took us to the harbour and from there by rubber duck to MV Illusions. It was all so exciting. Our 4 dive companions were already on board so after introductions we had time to settle in and socialise before dinner. Diving would commence the next day.
We’ve had six stunning days on board doing two to three dives per day. The weather was beautiful, the dives were great, and the holiday all round was awesome. Roger even caught a Queen Mackerel; he was so chuffed.
Most of the dives had a maximum depth exceeding 30 m, with the last one being especially memorable.
The location was Leven Bank, by all accounts a spectacular reef between Pemba and Zanzibar. We dived off the big boat in the middle of the ocean, with no land in sight. There was a strong current that turned finding the reef, which is actually the peak of an underwater mountain, into a hit and miss situation. We caught only a glimpse of the pinnacle before Chris deployed the buoy, and we were dragged away by the current into the ‘deep blue’. The maximum depth of 44,5 m was a first for both of us. It was extremely hard to breathe through the demand valve at that depth because the air was so dense. With each inhale it felt like sucking on a pipe that was blocked off at the other end. Getting back onto the big boat was also interesting. It needed precise timing and aim thanks to the choppy waters.
We anchored back in Zanzibar Harbour yesterday morning. Everyone disembarked, and we spent the rest of the morning exploring Stone Town. After lunch, our fellow divers went off to their respective hotels, or directly to the airport, depending on their travel arrangements. We were invited to spend the night with Chris and Desirée on board the MV Illusions and will be taking a taxi to the airport today.
The four of us enjoyed a lovely, quiet evening of chatting, drinking wine and just relaxing.
The call to morning prayer had stopped; it is now eerily quiet. There is no movement in the normally busy harbour; no sound at all.
As we’re preparing to leave, Chris spots a small rowing boat and asks the owner if he would row us to shore for a fee. It would save him from lowering the rubber duck and taking us himself. The guy is initially rather reluctant but eventually consents after they negotiate the fee. Our stuff, which consists of two large long, blue nylon Air Force issue bags containing our dive gear and a few smaller items, is passed down before we also jump aboard. While we wave a final goodbye to our friends, the rowboat owner begins rowing towards the beach at Mercury’s Restaurant in Stone Town.
The next moment there is pandemonium. A small motorised boat, coming from the direction of the harbour, speeds towards us carrying an individual shouting and gesturing for us to stop and climb into his boat. We are under the impression that he came to assist because our little boat is battling against the outgoing tide. He does not look very official, sporting a naked upper body glistening with sweat and a generally untidy, dirty appearance. Chris, who is watching from MV Illusions, shouts:
“Ignore him, just continue on your way”, which we do.
That does not go down well. He turns around at full throttle, leaving a wave of spray behind him and speeds away in the direction he came from, bandanna flapping in the wind. He soon returns; this time with soldiers waving AK-47 rifles in the air shouting for us to stop. They block our little rowing boat and grab hold of me, forcing me onto their boat. Then Roger is ordered to jump across. All the while a soldier holds me firmly by the waist band of my backpack while keeping his rifle aimed at me. I am so bewildered by the unexpected turn of events that my only thought is:
‘Don’t panic. Keep your eyes cast down and do whatever they tell you.’
Meanwhile, unbeknown to any of us, the harbour had been on lockdown since midnight because tomorrow is the 29th October; election day! The harbour is under guard of the military with orders to prevent any movement as a precaution and a defense against a potential terrorist attack. The notification had somehow escaped our hosts after being at sea for six days.
The soldiers are taking us to the harbour, which is in the opposite direction from where we were heading initially. We disembark at the quay, and are escorted to an office. There we are ordered to unpack all our luggage for inspection. Then we have to provide proof of who we are and what we are doing in Zanzibar. By now, Chris had lowered his rubber duck and is in hot pursuit. He strikes an imposing figure with his big stature, huge hands and booming voice.
Chris eventually persuades the soldiers to let us go. As we are being escorted to a taxi which would take us to the airport, we see the man from the rowing boat rolling in the oily mud of the harbour. Soldiers are shouting at him while he is being kicked and knocked around. I catch a fleeting glimpse of his face and see panic and desperation there. What a terrible thing to witness. Chris firmly ushers us away to the taxi and returns to the harbour.
A feeling of guilt washes over me, knowing that somehow, without intent, we are responsible for what is happening to that unfortunate man.
During the taxi ride Roger says “I feel the same way, but there is nothing we can do; our hands are tied. The best we can do is to get out of here!”
We are just in time for our flight and it is with relief that I watch Zanzibar disappear into the distance behind us.
My thoughts keep going back to that innocent man. He was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. His only crime was to help us for a fee, perhaps his only income for the day, being locked down as they were. I will never know his fate.
Back home
We remain in contact with Desirée.
Chris was arrested after we left. Then their boat was searched, and damaged in the process. The following morning Chris was brought back to the boat and they sailed to Dar es Salaam under navy escort. There he was transferred to a prison while Desirée stayed on MV Illusions under close guard of the military.
Chris’s eventual release was facilitated by the South African Government. They lost their work permit and were deported.
It was reported in a local newspaper that we were terrorists attempting a coup. The long kit bags were said to contain weaponry. We reportedly used the rowing boat in order to be silent and slip onto the island undetected…
As it turned out the elections proved highly controversial and there was a widespread feeling amongst independent observers that they were not free and fair.
I guess we were lucky to have gotten away before things turned really nasty!
