|
Day 18. Rosina From Hell
At 7 o'clock we head to the harbor from where we'll take the
boat to île Sainte Marie. We are yet unaware of the
dangerous adventure that awaits us..
 |
| East
coast of Madagascar |
I expected a real harbor with a descent ferry, but the reality
is different. The harbor is nothing more but a dead-end sand
path with at the end a wooden platform, tied together with ropes.
Somebody steps into our car and sells us the boat tickets, for
3,50 euro. Our boat is the Rosina II, he says, and will depart
around 9:30.
But first our visit to îIe Sainte Marie must be registered. We visit a greasy office where a young soldier writes down our data in a school notebook.
We drink a coke and say goodbye to Dyna When i visit the toilet,
situated behind the bar, i accidentally knock a cap off the
table. It exposes a shiny revolver. Ain' t we glad we appropriately
paid for our drinks!
We walk to the platform and see a small blue white boat, powered
by two engines. It's the Rosina II. I estimate it has room for
10 people max. Our luggage is already carried on board. People
are busy loading an immense amount of cargo; crates of beer,
aluminum plates, bundles of wood, barrels of fuel, chickens,
dozens of boxes and countless baskets of fruit. You can't name
it or it's crammed into the boat, which has now sunk dangerously
deep in the water. When we think there's really no place left
for anything, a truck arrives. It's being unloaded for another
30 minutes and of course, it's entire cargo is crammed into
our boat as well.
 |
| Soanierana-Ivongo harbor |
Finally the signal comes that we can board. I count a total
of 15 passengers, including us, one frenchman and 12 malagasies.
And then there's the captain and a hand full of sailors. When
we are settled a baby is carried in and a little boy, maybe
3 years old, gets placed on my lap. With the boy comes a can
of yogurt and a spoon, and the little guy nests itself on my
lap and looks at me full of expectation. Hungry? So i find myself
feeding the child spoons of yogurt.
The passengers pull on life jackets and the boat comes to live
with a lot of noise. May the Malagasies have been laughing and
chattering at first, they're now suddenly dead silent and look
scared. We soon notice why: the see is violent rolling mass
of water with meters high waves.
Now the misery really begins. The boat creaks and is dangerously
going up and down. Huge waves of waters slam inside. I'm soaking
wet, so is the boy on my lap and so is all the luggage. We're
all constantly breathing in stinking fuel fumes. Around us people
are constantly throwing up in plastic bags. The little boy sticks
firmly to me and won't let go. He doesn't make a sound but his
eyes are wide opened from fear. The yogurt is now somewhere
on the floor. The frenchman is making prayers.
The waves are so high that we almost flip over. I guess that
none of the locals can swim. All kinds of doom scenarios are
running through my head. Now my stomach too starts to protest.
I want to pull on my life jacket but it turns out it's broken.
Everyone's in terror. The only one who is enjoying all this
is the owner of the boat. He's in between us, drinking beer
and is laughing madly every time somebody gets hit by another
splash of water.
 |
| Rosina II |
We undergo 2 more long, hellish hours until we finally reach
more calm water. Against all odds we dock safely and in one
piece at îIe Sainte Marie. Once, but never again, we
think as we're waiting shivering for our luggage. Afterwards
we read a warning in the Lonely Planet. The Rosina II is even
mentioned by name! The boat is only an option at complete calm
water and should be avoided anytime even at the slightest ripples.
At least one person drowned (and this guide is already 4 years
old)
'It better be worth it' we think. Back in Holland we already marked Hotel Lakana in our guide but we can't remember why. The frenchman also recommended it and it even turns out that the truck's cargo that got loaded into this boat, was meant for Lakana. A pickup from the hotel is loaded up with the cargo, mainly with boxes of african wine, so our choice is made. We hop in.
It turns out to be the right choice. We arrive in a heavenly
resort, with lazy chairs and pillows everywhere and comfortable
bungalows on a paradise beach. We are welcomed with a drink.
This resort is being run by a very friendly frenchman who obviously
knows what tourists want. Our bungalow is literally in the Indian
Ocean, with the surf reaching until 50 cm from the door. Exotic
shells are lying and i find a 10 kilogram specimen.
We realize the hellish trip must have been worth it. We will
spent our last 5 nights here with pleasure, even though we're
the only ones again.
| 
previous