Kilwa Sea Rescue
If
the place that you’re boating in doesn’t have any rescue facilities, and you
develop a problem, what do you do?
In
South Africa, the NSRI (National Sea Rescue Institute) is so synonymous with sea
and ocean rescues: – with pleasure cruises going wrong, shipping disasters and
any other water orientated ill that may be befall a hapless person, that we
don’t even think twice about it – calling the NSRI is a given.
What
happens in countries where is no such thing as the NSRI? Where considerate
seamanship doesn’t seem to exist? Where, if you get into trouble, you’re on
your own?
The Great Mosque on Kilwa. |
In
Tanzania, in the Kilwa Bay, I unexpectedly became part of a rescue. There was
nothing dramatic about it, there was no danger to any person, but if our boat
hadn’t come along when we did, and passed close enough to be within shouting
distance, the thirty odd people on the stranded boat would probably have spent
the night on a remote sandbank.
Kilwa
Bay, in southern Tanzania, is a vast expanse of water. Several islands lie in this bay; islands on
which some of Africa’s most fascinating ruins lie.
The two largest, Kilwa
Kisiwani and Songo Mnara, have been declared UNESCO World Heritage Sites. The
area is renowned for deep-sea fishing, so much so, that lodges specializing in this sport have opened there. If
history or fishing isn’t your cup of tea, there isn’t much reason to visit this
remote area of Africa.
Getting your bearings. |
We
were returning to Kilwa Masoko, the town on the mainland, from Songo Mnara on
an old tub of a dhow-ish boat, under sail,
with all the time in the world, reflecting
on the fascinating ruins which in the 11th century, and for another
two hundred years, had been a thriving city port.
The Portuguese Fort on Kilwa. |
We
passed another old sail boat, which was stationery. I liked the colours of the
people’s clothing, and started taking photographs. A shout went up, and our
skipper answered, but didn’t seem interested. I actually thought that the shout
had been directed at my photo taking – that once again,
I was in trouble for
photographing people without their permission. The exchange carried on, and
eventually, the other boat skipper started shouting ‘mafuta mafuta’, which is
petrol in Swahili.
The stranded vessel. |
It
turned that the spark plugs weren’t functioning, and being stuck on the sand
bar, they couldn’t use the sail either. When
they asked for help, our skipper was totally unhelpful, until the offer of
their petrol was made.
We came up alongside them, a line was thrown, and they
were pulled off the bank, and up to us. Before our skipper would move off, all
the petrol had to be transferred to our boat. No Sir – there was no trust
there!
All the petrol was transferred to our dhow. |
Towing the stricken boat. |
With
the petrol transferred (by crew members with lit cigarettes), we towed them,
and another little boat, that claimed a free ride, all the way to Kilwa Masoko
town, only slipping the tow rope as we neared the jetty.
Thank
goodness for the NSRI here in South Africa, and other sea rescue organizations
around the world - imagine if the NSRI behaved like that and demanded upfront
payment before helping?
Many
sea rescue organizations are non profit organizations that rely on donations
from the public; often they are not funded by their governments. The South
African National Sea Rescue Institute depends on you and me for donations. Be
generous: one day, you and I may be dependent on them to be rescued.