July 11, 2016

Off the big island (Nosy Be) and back to the BIG island (Madagascar). I arrived at the boat dock at 9am to get on one of the small speed boats that will transport me back to the mainland to continue my trek north. The boat costs $15 and takes 30 minutes…and did, but I wasn’t on it. There was a new safety rule passed by the government 2 years ago prohibiting bicycles and motor bikes on these small speed boats. The crew actually showed it to me. Oh the irony of Madagascar passing “safety” rules. This meant my option was the 2 ½ hour, $3.00, ferry ride, with chickens, motor cycles, and anything else that needs to chug its way across to the mainland. As I’m boarding the boat, someone comes up the stairs, vomits over the edge, then resumes his fetal position below the deck. I haven’t even left the dock. (Sigh…). Yes, this is going to be the hell boat from Hellville.

I watch 2 guys delicately hoist my 80lb bike off the dock, pass it to 2 other guys on the boat, flip it sideways, and gently finesse it through the barely 3ft opening leading to the lower deck where all other items are stowed for the trip. Impressive. It should be noted that there is no real schedule for transport in Madagascar. They leave when they are full. Forty minutes later, we shove off. The sound of the ramped up diesel engine is deafening and the fumes suffocating. The boat is packed. It is standing room only. Dozens of speed boats go skipping by. I should be on one. An hour later, I notice the captain come out onto the upper deck to sit comfortably while his first mate steers the boat as it slowing creeps and chugs through the calm, turquoise sea. I looked up to him and gave him the “Can I come up?” look. He acquiesces. I climbed the pole like a ring tailed lemur and perched myself on the shaded upper deck next to the captain. It’s basically just the roof covering the middle deck but its calm and tranquil. I pulled out my iPod, cued up Bob Marley’s Legend album…and resumed being. The captain, who spoke fewer words in English that I do in Malagasy, looked over at my iPod. I placed the ear buds in his ears. “One Love” was playing. His eyes lit up, and he launched into seated grooving and singing out loud. He was enjoying it so much that I didn’t have the heart to ask for it back until we reached the port. Feeling the enjoyment he had as we both sang and grooved together to Bob Marley warmed my soul. This will set me back 1 day, but it seems like a pretty good trade.

That guy never left his post, making sure the enjoy kept chugging

Captain’s deck

Being the captain

At least I wasn’t on that boat

At the dock, offloading my bike from out boat, through another boat, to the dock.  

Race training going on.  This guy came up behind me to bum some water

I wanted to kidnap this little angel