Anchored in Paradise
Idyllic sunset in Dar’s Msasani Bay
I met a woman who lived on a sailboat moored off of Msasani Bay in Dar es Salaam, and it sounded so romantic to me; to live on a boat in a palm-fringed bay and watch the sun set over the sea at the end of each day. Curious to find out what her life was like, I asked Mari if I could interview her aboard her 36-foot yacht, and she agreed.
Mari quickly dissuaded me of any romantic notions about life on a sailboat. “You get heaven on a boat, but you also get hell,” she said in a somber tone. “A lot of sailing is pure boredom when you’re doing an ocean crossing, and waking up at midnight to take over the watch isn’t much fun.”
She and her partner Sam had set off from Hong Kong ten years earlier, intending to sail around the world until they reached Australia. They tied up in the Philippines for a few years before sailing to Borneo, Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand, Madagascar, and South Africa. After crossing the Indian Ocean, they sailed into Dar for a respite in the protected waters of the Msasani Bay. Mari started teaching English at a local school while Sam worked on their boat.
Anchoring in paradise -| Dar’s Msasani Bay
They led a simple existence in most senses, bathing in the bay off the back of the boat and rinsing with fresh water from a plant sprayer. She did her laundry the same way, washing clothes in sea water and doing a final rinse with fresh water brought from the shore in jerry cans. With two gas burners and no refrigerator, they didn’t try to cook elaborate meals in their tight galley kitchen.
Using solar panels and a wind generator, they were able to store all the energy they needed in 12-volt batteries below deck. The two of them shared a computer and desk, using Skype to call family members and friends. They kept their clothes rolled up in plastic bags on a shelf above the bed. “You become less attached to things when you live on a boat,” she told me. “You find that you don’t need many things. And when you bring something new onboard, something else has to go off.”
The day I motored out to visit her, I got seasick from the constant rocking of the boat—and this was in calm weather. Mari said she was prone to sea sickness too, especially in rough waters. She’d tried all sorts of sea sickness pills until she found one that worked for her. “The only time it was unbearable was during the monsoons when I had the flu, and then I had to sleep in a hotel for two nights.”
Neither Mari nor Sam had any grand career aims or retirement plans, nor did they keep a bucket list of places they wished to visit someday. Instead, they tried to live in the now and enjoy each moment to the fullest. Their boat was aptly named with a Hebrew word that meant “pause and reflect,” which had become a way of life for them and not just a vessel to transport them.