The Strangest Place in the World, Really!

Thursday, 16 February 2012 – Abeam Swakopmund at Sea

We set sail, uh, diesel-electric about two hours ago for the 4 ½ day transit up the Atlantic Coast from Walvis Bay, Namibia to Takoradi, Ghana which is 1922 nautical miles away.  The Captain assured me a few minutes ago on deck that the cool and clammy 65 to 70 degree overcast weather will change to hot and clammy overnight as we leave the Antarctic current that makes one of the driest desert coastlines in the world cool and clammy. At 22 degrees south latitude, Walvis Bay is technically in the tropics. The local folks here must enjoy hotter weather since most of them on the street seemed to be dressed for sub-freezing temperatures although it was 66F at the time we left port.

Walvis Bay is the major port for Namibia minerals. Salt is harvested from containment ponds where the sun we did not see evaporates ocean water, and copper and other materials are being constantly delivered by train from further inland. Except for a centimeter or two of rain that miraculously fell last summer here and completely flooded the drain-less streets, it does not rain here. There are no gutters and downspouts on the houses to speak of, and the locals very matter of factly report, "I have not seen rain". They usually add, "….since I left Germany."

Oh, Namibia is a former German (also Dutch and English as well as formerly part of South Africa) colony. Alone, this makes this coastline at the southern end of the Skeleton Coast—named for the shipwrecks that dot the seascape for miles—strange enough. But the extremely dry but damp climate is nothing compared to the 1000 foot sand dunes that run the 25 miles from Walvis Bay to Swakopmund , the endless partially built resort towns, the Brad Pitt/Angelina Jolie compound, the hang gliders blowing UP the sand dunes, and the former townships with identical tiny government houses on both sides of the road. Mixed race "coloureds" were on the sea side and the blacks on the inland side. The whites lived (and still live) in pretty lovely homes on the lagoon at the north side of town but due to paranoia or perhaps insurance requirements have both concertina wires and electric fences which are adorned with "Beware of Vicious Dog" signs. Most of the dogs we saw during our walk before the stint of sea days this morning were daschounds and other yippy dogs, but maybe they were vicious. Also, I believe we spotted a seal attacking a tour boat. Other bizarre sights include incredibly obvious signage and occasional large 1900 MHz radiating trees. That is, the only large trees to be seen in this area appear to be metal ones hiding cell phone sites.

Walvis is essentially a busy port and fishing town and railhead surrounded by desert, but Swakop (as the locals are said to call it) is the strangest place in the world. We rejected purchasing the ship's $199 per person transfer to that more touristic destination in favor of a private arrangement at 20% that price we shared with another couple, my old friends Bruce and Susan from California. A Tata is not a tour bus, but we are good friends fortunately. As we all share an interest of most things railway, so we quizzed the ever informative long term Namibian driver-guide, Rachel, about the narrow gage lines that pass through Walvis and Swakop and asked to see the various nearby railway stations, some original and one architectural gem now converted to a luxury hotel. We were treated to a passing "mixed-freight" being shunted, such trains with mostly box or tank cars and in this case with a single ancient passenger car having disappeared in the age of Amtrak in America. The single track railroad here is quite busy, but that was not what makes Swakopmund strange. There's more.

First, I need to mention that we were obliged to set our clocks back one hour before retiring the night before last in preparation of the Namibian time zone, one hour earlier than South Africa according to www.worldclock.com and the ship's official navigation plan. Shortly before arriving at noon yesterday, a PA announcement told us to advance our clocks and watches and re-lose that hour as somehow Namibia had gone on daylight savings time, apparently in secret. Well, that's weird but not exactly strange. What makes it strange, is that we found Swakopmund to not be one hour in the past or even a year or decade late but somehow a century of so behind the times. This place—which in full disclosure I had visited in early 2002 and found just more or less still unchanged—seems to be expecting a visit by Keiser Wilhelm. Turn of the Century German architecture abounds along with old Germans in (closed yesterday because of the frigid 70 degree F temperatures) beer gardens, German speaking shop clerks, German speaking tourists and businessmen, all surrounded by very southeast Atlantic Ocean and endless sand dunes and sand fields, piles of sand, empty lots of sand.  Even the well done "mineral" museum features various kinds of rocks that make, uh, sand. So there's lots of sand, and that goes for hundreds of miles inland and the better part of a thousand miles north and south along the coast.

 

At three hours after sailing we are now out of sight of land, having watched Swakopmund disappear over the horizon. We are now looking forward to our days at sea. Ghana is just north of the Equator. So we will watch the Southern Cross get lower each night and the Big Dipper appear. 18 knots doesn't seem very fast—it is less than 20 mph—but it does work as long as the food and beverages hold out. And we know there's a bunch of both on the ship, having watched all the stuff being loaded in Cape Town as you may recall.

The new guests that embarked in Cape Town are fortunately as expected. Our Teutonic fellows have long said their last Auf Weidersehn and the pall they cast on the mood of the ship and crew has finally lifted. The "in-transit guests", those of us who remained to sail again on this segment, are beginning to not be afraid to attempt to say hi to each other for fear of rejection, and the new guests are old time Silversea repeaters who naturally say hello and ask the time honored question, "Which cruise did we sail on together before." The last remaining service issue—that of too much and a bit intrusive service—has long ago been resolved on Silversea. The wine and food are fantastic (the veal shank last night was superb), and the weather and seas are forecast to be characteristically clement and calm, respectively. Oh well. Someone has to do this.

More when there's something to talk about. No doubt that will be from Ghana in a few days time, unless something interesting occurs sooner. Oh my, it's tea time. Bye for now.