After Maputo, our next port of call would be La Reunion, and our course would take us across the Indian Ocean, just passing south of Madagascar. My heart sank to the bottom of my sandals when I opened up Facebook and saw a message from a well-wisher informing us of the tropical cyclone building up off Mauritius, predicted to be the worst since 2002. This scenario had been lurking in the back of my mind for weeks, knowing that it was cyclone season, and I didn't know whether I was ready for such excitement at this stage of my life. I spotted the hapless captain of this fine vessel and scurried over, trying to keep a hysterical squeak out of my voice, and asked if he thought I should jump ship before we left Maputo. He very gravely told me he was monitoring the situation carefully, as if to say, you silly woman, would I endanger my ship? And of course I knew he wouldn't, so I decided to stay aboard. I did suggest to him that I would love it if he went up the Mozambique Channel, and we left it at that. Meanwhile, other passengers were starting to talk about the cyclone and how they had been aboard in 30-foot waves on other occasions and had a marvellous time - it just meant a lot of crockery went flying at dinner.
The ship sailed at sunset and once again slipped silently into the dusk, leaving the lights of Maputo far behind us. On waking the next morning, I looked through the window and could see that our speed had picked up considerably. We were fairly flying over a mirror smooth sea. I flicked on the onboard channel and breathed easily again - we were on our way up the Mozambique Channel and our speed had increased from 11knots to 20knots - flying indeed! So it was time to relax and enjoy the ride.
I think it took us 5 days to La Reunion from Maputo, quite a detour, and the trip up the Channel was smooth and comfortable. Then we rounded the northern end of Madagascar and turned for the islands, meeting the swells emanating from the cyclone, which had by then reached Mauritius, and suddenly it was a floating 6-star hotel with added dipping and diving. The horizon was no longer horizontal and one could feel the juddering as the bow bit deep into an oncoming swell and then the floor would part from the soles of your feet as it rose again. Passengers and crew alike succumbed to seasickness, although my sea legs were steady, and there was plenty of banter about lurching in the lounges and drifting in the dining room. An evening show was cancelled as it would have been impossible for the performers to maintain their balance, and on the dancefloor the dancers lurched from one side to the other, adding a few extra steps to the routine. The waiters did a sterling job balancing trays of drinks, obviously accustomed to adverse conditions, but I'm sure more than one onion rolled off a table in the galley.
It was actually quite uncomfortable proceeding at speed into those swells, and we had to brace ourselves most of the time, which had the advantage of using muscles that possibly wouldn't have had any exercise! The most startling thing was waking up one night and finding that I was barely touching the mattress! The situation wasn't helped by the sudden appearance of new lifejackets in the corridors overnight - we were assured that it was merely a routine replacement of the existing ones and had nothing to do with the weather. Bad timing.
Oh, yes! The captain came over to me a few days after our first conversation and said, "You see, I took your advice!" A true officer and a gentleman.
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