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| Eric at Massawa Port |
Sea Child tied up to the Port of Massawa after an overnight at a nearby anchorage. By 10:30pm on Saturday, April 2, 2016, we were exhausted from the long and at times arduous sail from Socotra, Yemen, 972 NM ago. Eric had tried several times to hail the Massawa Port Control and gain approval to tie up. However, no answer meant that we anchor, and as our heads hit the pillows, a deep sleep surrounded our exhausted bodies. By 9 am the next morning, we quietly congratulated ourselves on our successful passage from Socotra, Yemen to Massawa, Eritrea. When we finally tied up to the dock at Port Massawa, we stepped onto the African continent for the first time in our lives.
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| Massawa, Eritrea "Banca D'Italia" Bombed in 1991 |
The hot African winds did little to cool the sticky, humid air of the Red Sea. The Port itself was deserted except for an immigration officer and a health officer who processed our arrival. Thank God we had our Health Clearance from the Maldives, as the health officer wanted some record of our health history and vaccinations. I offered both men some of the delicious yogurt & jam I received as a gift from Denis on Socotra Island and we gave each man two packs of cigarettes that we had picked up in Malaysia. Two copies of our crew lists, one copy of Ships Registry, one Declaration of NO ARMS or ANIMALS, and one copy of Maldives Health Clearance were all required to enter Eritrea. After about 30 minutes, we received our shore passes for a 48 hour visit to Massawa. We were in for an incredibly short visit of an incredibly ruined city.
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| Old Towne Ruins, Massawa, Eritrea |
As we entered the Old Towne from the high walls of the Port, we were unprepared for the incredible destruction of the Old Towne itself. The severely damaged Italianate “Bance D’Italia” stood before us in ruins in the center of the nearby square. Bombs had hit their mark on railings, through windows and into the stone sides of the building itself. The entire area we walked into was totally deserted, perhaps from the extreme heat of the day or perhaps there were just no people living in the area? We had heard about the tasty Asmara Beer from our friends on Taimada & Laragh who had visited Massawa just a few days before us, so we were on a mission for some way to celebrate our momentous occasion! We were in awe at the appearance of the bombed out buildings around us as a taxi driver appeared out of nowhere! It was as if he was tipped off by the harbor officials that we were coming out, who knows. In any case, he asked us where we were going, and since we had no particular destination in mind and just wanted to walk around, we passed on his offer for a ride. He introduced himself as Solomon, then insisted on giving us a “free ride” so we asked him to take us to the Dahlak Hotel, where we heard we could get a beer. Solomon said, “No, Dahlak is junk” and proceeded to drop us off at what can only be described as a filthy dive bar where we could get an Asmara Beer. Solomon offered to exchange some USD for local Eritrean Nafka ($1 USD = 15 Nfa), gave Eric $500 Nfa so we could buy a beer, and told us to wait for his return at the dive bar.
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| Eric exchanging USD for Nfa |
We entered the dark space and our eyes adjusted to reveal a full bar, shelves filled with bottles of Asmara Liquor. Eric asked a man sitting at a table at the back bar for two Asmara Beers, and in the dark light, the man pointed to his right - towards a lady lying asleep across a bench. Guess she was the bartender, who knew how old she was since she was laying with her arm across her face. Eric asked some younger girls who entered the bar for two beers, and they delivered very cold and very delicious Asmara Beers. A TV hung brightly in the far corner silently broadcasting some type of political program. We enjoyed celebrating our momentous occasion, profound in its completion, sailing from Maldives to Socotra and deep down the Gulf of Aden through Bab el Mandeb. A toast to our success.
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| A toast at our successful sail from Socotra, Yemen to Massawa, Eritrea |
We mentioned to each other how we should have some mosquito repellant on since we were starting to feel some crawling around our ankles. As we glanced down at the floor, we noticed the filth, the apparently dried ketchup, food particles, disgusting dirt where we were sitting, and what we thought were mosquitos were actually thousands of ants crawling on and around our feet. Looking closer around the tiny, dark dive bar revealed tattered satin curtains hanging on the black dirt walls and food stained tablecloths under our sweaty hands. Why would Solomon drop us off here? We hastily paid the bill with the Nafka Solomon left us and headed out of the filthy little bar. The sleeping lady never knew we were even there.
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| Old Towne Mural, Massawa, Eritrea |
As we walked into the blazing heat towards the Dahlak Hotel, which sits across the causeway connecting the Old Towne to Taulud Island, I pointed out to Eric the giant mural of the Commando painted on the side of a building. He was dressed in short shorts and a collared shirt, with ammunition making an X across his back. We both stared at this mural in disbelief, wondering why the people of Massawa would want this image to be a representation of the Old Towne of Massawa? We later learned that this mural depicts the Freedom Fighters who “liberated” the Port of Massawa from Ethiopian forces in 1991.
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| Returning with the Cash! |
Halfway across the causeway, Solomon returned at a high rate of speed. He stopped short, and wanted us both to get into the taxi. I refused, who was this guy and why is he driving like a mad man? In any case, Eric did get into the taxi, and I watched in disbelief as Solomon took off with Eric towards the Old Towne. At the end of the causeway, Solomon turned around and sped back towards me, stopped, and Eric got out of the car. “Well that was exciting!” Eric exclaimed as he continued that Solomon had exchanged $100 USD for $1500 Nafka. Solomon told Eric that if anyone asked, this Nafka came from a bank, and then he sped off. No other cars were around on this Sunday afternoon and not many people, either. So we continued on to the Dahlak Hotel where we heard there was internet.
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| Welcome Sign, Dahlak Hotel |
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| Italian Tile Detail, Dahlak Hotel |
The once grand Dahlak Hotel sits on the banks of the Red Sea. The Italian architecture is pronounced, as it the exquisite tile work surrounding the giant algae-filled pool, dusty lobby, and filthy bathrooms. At a glance, you’d think it to be a 5-star resort and perhaps it once was. We spent just enough time there to see how far it had fallen from its glory days. The bathrooms alone were the most disgusting I have ever seen, and with all the places we’ve been, that’s saying quite a lot. The mirrors were missing from the walls, their bare-painted shadows all that remain. The light fixtures look like someone tried to pry them away and the filth of the stalls lay in testament to a long-gone cleaning crew. While we enjoyed many bottles of Asmara Beer, the dinner menu at the Dahlak Restaurant was lacking in selection: Pasta, pasta with red sauce, or pasta with cheese and fish dishes (no idea what type of fish) was pretty much all that was on offer. We drank enough Asmara Beer, tried to communicate with our delightful waitress, and then headed back to the Port and an early night to bed. We had tried the internet in the Dahlak lobby, sitting in chairs surrounded by cigarette butts on floors, but the connection was impossibly slow. Forget it.
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| Dinner at Dahlak |
We walked back across the causeway and this time Old Towne Massawa was alive with people. All the shuttered buildings we passed before were now open, with busy tables lining the streets. We came upon one large group of people, and surprise, there was Solomon! This time, he was properly dressed and perhaps a little amazed to see us as well. He introduced us to Samuel, the cafe owner, whose family lives in the capital city of Asmara. Both Samuel and Solomon were very interested in our travels on Sea Child, amazed that we were able to travel so freely. And the Freedom Fighter Mural? Turns out Solomon was actually one of those fighters in the short shorts carrying machine guns during the civil war in 1991. Samuel shared a shot of local Asmara Grappa with Eric (I had the good sense to pass) and after a short time, we continued back to Sea Child.
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| Eric with School Boy |
The next morning, we headed out to find some provisions. The houses of Old Massawa are as run down and crumbled as the dingy bar and ruined bank building. People were out and about, and the only cars we saw were several large trucks delivering cargo to the port. We later learned that the cargo was gold and copper heading to China. Since our planned departure from Massawa was 0530 on Tuesday morning, immigration was going to confiscate our shore pass at 1700. We found a corner market that sells small amounts of provisions (zucchini, onions, bread and potatoes) next to a crumbled ruin. Children were running around the dirt streets with smiles on their faces, begging us for pens or pencils to complete their homework from school.
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| Dahlak Waitress at the Market |
We ran into our waitress from the Dahlak Hotel, and she invited us into her small home behind a giant wall nearby. She lived with her mother, her brother, and two small children in a neat home with tall ceilings. A gas stove framed the threshold into her joint living/sleeping area where a pumpkin stew was bubbling away. She asked us to come back for coffee the next morning, but we had to leave Massawa and would not be able to join her. Yet we thanked her for the opportunity to see the living conditions of the war-torn Old Town and felt that she was content with her station in life. The ruins around us may seem unlivable, but Old Towne Massawa was home to a functioning community.
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| Old Towne, Massawa Street Scene |
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| St. Mariam Cathedral, Taulud Island, Massawa, Eritrea |
We ate lunch in the Luna Restaurant on Taulud Island, after exploring around the empty streets. Past the Tank Monument of the 1991 Rebellion and the beautiful St. Mariam Cathedral, we settled into a lazy afternoon break. The local cuisine in Luna was a far cry from the limited menu in Dahlak Hotel. We feasted on a local plate of spicy beef on a flat bread. The restaurant was busy, with several locals around us enjoying the food, which is alway a good sign, right? And while we again drank bottles of deliciously cold Asmara Beer, we pushed back the cats surrounding our table, fighting amongst themselves for any scraps of food. One cat was even bold enough to actually climb up the table and attempt to eat right from our plate. Crazy cat. But it was time to head back to Sea Child, to surrender our shore passes and watch the loading of the giant containers on cargo vessels. We walked past the crumbled ruins of Massawa and while we appreciated the exotic history of the area, we were ready to head out to the Red Sea again and sail for Sudan. We received our departure papers, paid our $20 USD and gave up more cigarettes to the immigration man. At dawn the next day, we were on our way.
Massawa, 15 degrees 36.35 min N, 39 degrees, 27 min E, has a rich history. More can be found on Wikipedia on the internet.
Please come back for our next entry, Sea Child in the Red Sea: Arriving in Sudan
