1992. Dinghy adventure in the Red Sea

Welcome to the special section “BAM 35 Years.” We are presenting “cult” articles from the Motor Boats archive, starting in 1990. A journey through time among stories unobtainable today, even in the great sea of the internet! A dive into the world of epic moments in motor boating. We begin with one of the stories we were most passionate about.

Dinghy adventure

From Boats by Motor 1992, No. 10, November, pp. 44-51.

Five hundred miles in the Red Sea with an Ace 6.40 equipped for nautical camping. Departure from Massawa, Eritrea. Target, the Dahlak archipelago. It is the first major Italian expedition to these tropical waters since the guns were silenced. We tell you how an unforgettable trip is made.

Eritrea had just come out of a 30-year war, particularly bloody in the last 10 years. Riccardo, my dear friend, had been born and lived in that country until, after the coup, they had closed his brewery, the excellent beer that anyone who has visited the country has surely enjoyed. Then sad and loaded he had returned to Italy, where we had met again. In Massawa, however, he still had his home, the most beautiful house in town, and in Asmara many friends and acquaintances. As soon as the country was liberated he said to me, “Andrea, we are going back together, I want to take you to the Dahlak Islands, to find the fantastic places where I spent unforgettable years.” Thus was born this project, an adventure among friends that also represented the first Italian expedition in a big way to the Dahlak, after the guns had been silenced. Riccardo owned a nice Beltram-Riva motorboat in Massawa, but it had disappeared during the ground fighting. We therefore needed a new craft and, drawing on our long experience in rubber boating, we opted for a large dinghy to be shipped to Eritrea by sea, with all the necessary equipment for camping and underwater exploration. The operation had been lengthy and the departure date, had slipped by more than a month because of the ship that was to carry all the equipment and never decided to leave. Having now reached the end of April, we finally found ourselves at the airport in Asmara, welcomed by Marco and his friends, who had arranged everything well before our arrival. After a few days of work, our 6.40 Ace dinghy, powered by a 130 hp Yamaha and with a small 8 hp emergency outboard, was ready to go. After tuning the Gps and VHF, carefully checking all the equipment, from the fuel tanks to the compressor for refilling the tanks, from the power generator to the camping gear, we were ready to set sail on our adventure. While Riccardo and I studied the charts, Andrea and Marco took care of the paperwork and whatever was necessary to be in compliance with local regulations, which mandated the accompaniment of a local guide. Since there was only room for two people on the dinghy, we managed to get the guide to stay on the elderberry that was to accompany us with the fuel supplies, and everything was finally ready.

Wake up at dawn. At 6:30 a.m. the elder arrives on time with Roberto, the guide who, besides being particularly nice, speaks perfect Italian. Having loaded the large drums of fuel, supplies of food, ice and drinks, we say goodbye to Marco and Roberto, who are leaving with the sambuco, and take care of the dinghy, which is resting on the dock, ready to be lowered into the water with the crane. Final touches and off we go — but what the heck, there is no electricity and the crane is stuck. We run to see, discovering that they are replacing war-damaged poles and will be without power for a few hours. It is not until 11 a.m. that we can finally launch the dinghy and leave, but by then the morning hours conducive to sailing have been lost due to the absence of wind, and just outside the dock we find a somewhat choppy northerly sea coming in off the bow, since it is precisely to the north that we must go. At just over 4,000 rpm the big Yamaha pushes the dinghy into a gentle glide, 27 knots according to onboard instruments, but only 23 according to the more reliable GPS. TheAce sails excellently, devouring bow waves with no abnormal reactions and no beating. Satisfied with the seaworthiness, we can enjoy sailing, seeing Massawa and the sandy coastline parading to our left. In tropical seas, navigation is very pleasant, occasionally interrupted by an encounter with some animal: a flock of migrating birds, a flying fish, a pod of dolphins, a large jump of tuna or, as it happens this time, an encounter with a huge snapper of about ten kilos gasping on the surface, probably freed from a fisherman’s line and with a swollen swim bladder. After about 3.30 hours we are in sight of our destination, theisland of Difnein, 61 miles from Massawa. Difnein is the northernmost of the Dahlaks and was a popular destination when in the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s the archipelago was the target of diving expeditions and some tourism, mostly Italian. The distance from Massawa and the consequent forced isolation means that its waters are extremely fishy, and itsnorthern location, facing deeper waters than the rest of the archipelago, guarantees clearer water than the other islands. Of course getting there in just over three hours seems like a dream; when I came in 1973 it took a full day of sailing aboard an old buggy that did maybe 5 knots. The island is stunning, low lying, with a long beach of white coral sand and the tall Italian lighthouse at the northern end, at the foot of which is a beautiful mangrove where you can see an infinity of birds: pelicans, gannets, terns, gulls and two pairs of ospreys.

Circumnavigating the island, we indulge in a refreshing swim in turquoise, warm water and a bit of trolling, just enough to procure fish for dinner, which is not at all difficult, since in a short time we put a barracuda, a snapper and a couple of jacks to the straw. Meanwhile, the elder also arrives and, having delegated the culinary tasks to Marco and Roberto, we can devote ourselves to preparing the first camp…on board. In fact, our intention is to sleep and, when necessary, cook on the dinghy, a most opportune decision, as we would later discover, because Difneinhas been mined and setting foot on land would not be healthy at all! We have a camping tent specially made for our dinghy, which
is attached by elastic hooks to the bumper that runs on the outer side of the tubulars, while it is supported by two hinged aluminum bows, which open in a compass-like fashion by pulling the tent toward the steering console. A simple removable wooden plank joins together the two longitudinal lockers in the front area, allowing for a rather large plane in which to lay out air mattresses. The night passes very quietly, rocked lazily by the sea and cooled by a gentle breeze that mitigates the heat. The next day is devoted entirely to diving: we plumb the seabed, choosing a drop-off on the eastern side and descend into the water with cameras. The amount of life is remarkable: barracuda, carangidae, groupers, angelfish, snapper, croaker, napoleon and a few reef sharks. Less fascinating, however, is the conformation of the seafloor, lacking large gorgonians, alcyonarians and highly developed madreporic formations, while an excellent surprise is the clarity of the water. In between dives we recharge our tanks and underwater flashes, an operation that requires the use of special transformers that we self-made in Italy, since the only power source is our onboard 12-volt battery.

The sea remains nice and calm, and we decide to leave at dawn for the most coveted and challenging destination of the expedition, a shoal 34 miles offshore that rises from depths of almost 300 meters to only 3-4 meters. Since we want to take Marco and Roberto with us, we unload all the unnecessary equipment on the elder: compressor, camping equipment, some of the provisions. Before the sun comes up we are already sailing, course 7°. It is wonderful to be spinning at 25 knots on a flat sea, eating up mile after mile without hardly noticing it, while the indispensable GPS provides data on course, distance traveled, speed. After less than two hours we are almost there and a large pod of dolphins surround us, leaping festively all around the dinghy. We scan the sea and Marco first spots a blue patch a few hundred meters to the right: it is Saunders Reef, our shoal. What a thrill to find such a spot, in the middle of the Red Sea 34 miles from the nearest island, as in halfway between Liguria and Corsica! The water is teeming with fish: as we snack, we throw a few pieces of bread into the water and gorgeous 4-5 kilo red snappers literally leap out of the water to feed. We slip the tanks on and off into the water. The excitement is great, we are probably the first ones to dive here. Where the shoal cap ends, the walls plummet vertically to 50-70 meters and beyond and soon pelagic fish arrive: carangidae, tuna and even sharks. These gradually increase in number, now there are seven of them circling around us and one is large and aggressive and tries to drive us out of its territory with frequent pointing and sudden jerks. The water is clear and the walls adorned with magnificent threadlike gorgonians of a vivid red color in the midst of which huge schools of fish hover. We re-emerge with the air on the drips but soon we are back in the water playing with the dolphins that have approached as soon as we set the dinghy in motion. In the afternoon one more ‘unforgettable dive, then hurry back to Difnein before dark.

We find the crew of the elderberry a bit worried; if we had not returned they would not have known how to find us, not having adequate instrumentation to locate our shoal and needing them at least 7 hours of navigation to get to the area. The first part of the expedition draws to a close and we return to Massawa the following day, having visited two wonderful islands, true ornithological paradises. We now have 250 miles of sea on our shoulders and the dinghy is behaving beautifully. It is time to change the foot oil, redo the various supplies and prepare for the second part of the expedition. After the far north it is now the turn of the eastern part of the Dahlaks, jutting toward the center of the Red Sea. For a couple of days we will be on our own, as the elder has to complete the supplies and wait for some of Riccardo ‘s friends who will join us in Mojeidi, the last island to the east. This time we manage to leave right at dawn, and the first dozen miles pass without story, with a brief stop at the small island of Madote, a white sandy tongue where ospreys nest on the mast of the old abandoned lighthouse and where a fisherman’s elder also docks to clean fish. Shumma Island, 30 miles from Massawa, is our destination today, and we arrive so quickly that we still have the entire day available for diving and exploring the island. The sun is scorching and in the middle hours of the day we have to continuously dive into the water to cool off. Fortunately, Riccardo wanted a canopy on the dinghy to cover the driving area, made so sturdy that it not only withstands the stresses of sailing, but also provides a very good foothold while traveling standing on the tubulars, which is exceedingly useful for glimpsing the madreporic shallows. Shumma has a tall lighthouse built by the Italians and a beautiful mangrove, where numerous birds find refuge that we spot during afternoon bird-watching.

As evening falls and the heat finally gives some reprieve, we assemble the galley and prepare an always welcome spaghettata, in the most classic of Italic traditions. At dawn we quickly dismantle camp and on flat seas devour the 50 miles that separate us from Mojeidi. We have arrived at the eastern end of the Dahlaks, beyond only the open Red Sea to the shores of Yemen. As is often the case with outposts, it is a true paradise on earth. The island presents a crescent-shaped bay bordered by one of the most beautiful beaches I have ever seen: white coral sand for more than a kilometer, overlooking a madreporic shallow water rich in reef fish. We are the first to land here in who knows how long, and our feet leave imprinted in the sand the only footprints on the island, besides those, very frequent, of turtles. The sea for its part has adorned the shoreline with a blue-purple cordon of beached shells, cones, bivalves and beautiful cypresses. Here we spend two absolutely unforgettable days of perfect solitude. We stroll on the island’s sand dunes at sunrise and sunset in front of the always thrilling spectacle of the large turtles crawling out to sea. Then we climb a stony plateau so flat and level that we can even land in a small tourist plane, with a breathtaking view of the entire island. On the third day the elderberry arrives, loaded with friends. A few more dives and a stop at Dissei where stands one of the few indigenous villages, the only one we see on this trip. Finally a superb, soft glide to Massawa, where we savor the heady pleasure of a freshwater shower and a good bed. 500 miles of Red Sea, an unforgettable experience that we want to repeat as soon as possible and that convinces Riccardo to leave the dinghy and equipment in place for the next expedition, about which we are already fantasizing.

How to prepare the dinghy for tropical camping

The inflatable boat proved to be a most felicitous choice for this type of expedition in tropical waters, both because of its high cruising speed, its still relatively small size and thus suitable for a ship-to-ship expedition, and its great stability and seaworthiness. One problem that at first glance might be a concern, that of easy punctures against sharp madrepores, has not been a problem instead, provided of course that one keeps one’s eyes open while sailing. The choice of vessel fell on an Asso model 6.40 because of the excellent materials used, the care in construction and the rational interior layout. At Ace they are also true specialists in solving the many problems posed by nautical camping and long nonstop sailing, and this is perhaps the argument that most convinced us in our choice. The 130-horsepower Yamaha engine chosen for the dinghy proved to be very good, reliable, quiet. The actual consumption, under medium load conditions turned out to be about 40 liters/hour at 23 knots which corresponds to about 1.74 liters per mile traveled. On board we had a total of 460 liters of fuel, for a total range of more than 250 miles, divided as follows: 200 liters in the main stainless steel tank, located under the floorboard of the bow area, another 60 liters spare in a stainless steel tank placed under the helm console, and a flexible rubberized fabric tank for another 200 liters, to be placed if necessary between the two longitudinal forepeaks. A system of three-way taps made it possible to switch instantly from one tank to the other without having to disconnect pipes and plugs. For fresh water, on the other hand, we had a 100-plus liter stainless steel tank installed under the steering console, which we could draw directly from via a shower powered by an electric pump. To be on the safe side, we also installed a one-kilowatt generator on board, in the unfortunate event that the on-board battery should go dead, which was not impossible since we were drawing on it to recharge the underwater flashes. For camping, Ace has listed a quick-assembly tent, hinged on the tubulars, that folds open and stays down on the bow during the day without inconveniencing navigation, which proved excellent for hot weather. For cooking, a classic two-burner gas stove, pots and pans, and campware. Important in these climates is a large ice chest to store perishable foods and drinks. Ours, American-made, maintained the temperature so well that we had cool drinks even after several days of tropical heat. Diving equipment takes up the most room, because it forces you to find good accommodations for tanks and the compressor for refilling. We stowed it in front of the console, in a specially constructed wooden crate attached with two strong lever hooks to the fiberglass frames. The cylinders, on the other hand, were housed in the two large side lockers in the bow, along with camping gear. Indispensable in these climates is a fixed and very sturdy awning for protection from the sun during the middle hours of the day. As for navigation, in addition to a compass, a GPS is recommended as a very valuable aid in navigation. Loran, on the other hand, does not work, lacking the relevant stations in the area. Bad results we had from the VHF, with completely insufficient range to maintain contact with the shore base or elder. In fact, we were never able to talk more than about 20 miles away.

text and photos by Andrea Ghisoni

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