The Maldives Yacht Rally 2022 was our first experience of the breath-taking isles of north Maldives. We promised ourselves we would be back for more, but circumstances prevented our return in 2023. So. we signed up for this year’s Rally. We worked hard and fast to make Antara sail worthy, and we thought, equipped for Equatorial squalls too.
Tushar and family joined us on the first leg from Goa to Male. Their company made the long 9-day sail easy and cheerful. The first day out is usually when crew needs time to settle down and earn their sea legs. Appetites are poor and the mood is a bit on edge. Nituj and Tanay, his son, joined us after seeing Tushar’s passion for sailing and their own love for adventure. They are both avid trekkers.
Once the crew settled in, the ocean seemed to open her arms too!
We saw lots of turtles. Don’t be deceived by their slow waddle ashore, they make swift swimmers. We had a couple of long shadowy forms tail Antara for a while. After seeing a fin on the starboard side, we were convinced these forms on the port side were brothers. The next evening, we had a family of dolphins play along the bow, riding the waves and cheering us on. In response to every wish Tushar had made about sailing, we also caught a yellow fin tuna. A beautiful golden yellow fish, it was a joy to look at and even better to devour! Too bad Tushar is vegetarian!!
We had happy hours every evening and Tanay played some lovely music to go with the selection of booze and homemade goodies they brought along. The glorious sunsets only added to the grog induced glow.
We eventually made it to Hulhumale and they were loath to leave us, firmly believing that they were missing out on more adventures.
A senior couple from Goa then joined us for the first leg of the Rally from Male to Fulidhoo. A chance meeting in Goa led them to cancel their plans for a sedate cruise to Lakshadweep and sail a day between islands with us. They came aboard the earlier night and settled in quite easily. Arun Patil is an active 76-year-old retired naval officer, always looking for adventure. His son, Ajey and grandson, Neel, sailed with us on Neel’s first dive at 10 years of age.
However, what was to be a pleasant day sail to Fulidhoo turned out to be the experience of a lifetime. Hauling anchor at 0820h from Hulhumale anchorage, we sailed out to join the rest of the Rally fleet – all of 9 yachts. 4 of them are catamarans and 3 large monohulls. Another boat and Antara were the only 40 ft monohulls. The cats and the larger monohulls reached Fulidhoo in the early afternoon. The winds had picked up nicely from 14 knots to 18 knots as we approached Fulidhoo. We were looking forward to being on anchor by sunset. The Patils were eager to be ashore.
Sighting Fulidhoo and within 2nm of the island, we furled up the genoa and prepared to motor in. Bad idea! Our little engine was unable to overcome the powerful current just off the island. We struggled for over an hour but were unable to make any headway. In fact, the course on the chart plotter showed us moving backwards and sometimes towards the reefs. The Rally has a police and a coast guard escort and they promptly came out to check on us and offered to tow us in. As sunset approached, Dilip agreed to be towed in. It wasn’t an easy decision.
With troubled seas and a strong current, we watched on edge as Dilip went ahead to the bow to catch the tow ropes that the coast guard threw across. He caught them at the second attempt. Tow connected; we were ignominiously hauled inside the atoll to anchor. It was late and we laid anchor in the dark, hoping there were no bommies around the area and enough sea room for us.
The Patils had to reluctantly stay aboard another night. Next morning, we set up the dinghy and made our way ashore. They had booked themselves into a quaint little BnB festooned with bougainvillea. It was good for them to be back on land, and for us to have a warm shower.
It was also our first opportunity to meet the other Rally participants. There were folks from Algeria, China, Turkey, Australia, and Europe. It’s amazing how easily sailors bond and form friendships over shared travails (a word I interpret as trouble when travelling under sail). The islanders greeted us with a banquet of local food followed by a medley of Maldivian music. The 4-year-old sailor in our Rally group joined them on the dance floor and was soon followed by the rest of us.
Fulidhoo is a tiny island, in the Vaavu atoll south of Male. It provides shelter from the NE winds that are typical of this season. But this has not been a typical season and it turned out to be a turbulent place with heavy seas and strong winds. The next afternoon, just as we finished lunch and were preparing to go ashore again, a squall descended. It was stronger than the ones we had seen so far, and the anchor dragged. In sheets of rain, Dilip managed the anchor, as I tried to steer clear of the other boats and their anchor lines. We weathered out the storm for 2 hours before we could anchor again. I felt battle weary and wet to the bone. Dilip says, he now really appreciates the meaning of the phrase, being an anchor in one’s life!
With that, Dilip and I were in agreement now that our little girl was just not up to the challenge of this weather. It was time to decide on our next destination. We informed the Rally organisers of our decision to leave the Rally and return to Male. With that, the Rally was down to 7 participants; 7 having retired at various times due to weather and boat related challenges.
The others proceeded on to Muli, while we and another participant who had clutch issues, decided to sail out together the next morning. We had an upwind sail of about 28nm to the entrance of the atoll where Hulhumale is located, and we hoped to reach there in daylight.
The weather, as if seeking out Antara, refused to play along. At around 2330h we were a couple of miles and at least 2 tacks away from the entrance when the mother of all thunderstorms descended on us. We had two reefs in the main and a half-furled genoa already. But the winds simply took charge and Antara went surfing off towards the reefs. We tacked and made for open waters. For two hours Dilip held the helm as I grimly watched the chart plotter and shared wind information with a rain blinded Skipper.
We furled the genoa in the midst of that fury and still overshot our 28nm distance by 15nm. As the storm abated, we started the engine, pointed Antara in the direction of the atoll entrance and took turns napping till we entered the atoll the next morning around 0700h.
We had just seen winds reaching 33knots and were glad to have made it in safely. Looking forward to reaching by afternoon, we cleaned up the boat and made ready for land. But the weather gods were not done with us. As we watched, the storm clouds gathered and unleashed their fury once again. The winds were from the same direction we were headed to and gusts of 38 knots stopped Antara in her tracks. We were unable to make any headway and kept drifting alarmingly towards reefs and anchored ships. An hour of lashing rain, and the clouds dissipated. We inched our way to harbour at 1.5knots, finally reaching anchorage at 1600h bone weary but relieved. It was good to be in calm waters again.
Tired and hungry, we celebrated with dosas and potato bhaji washed down with orange juice. Perfect.