Cast your mind back a wee while, if you will, and recall our last adventures at sea.
Ah it seems so long ago now that we traipsed across the sea bed like some ancient mariners walking forth into the unknown after the tide betrayed us leaving our trusty vessel sand-banked, avoiding the urchins and me trying not to lose my flip-flops. All fun and games.
This past weekend saw us on another adventure, only this time it was more… prolonged.
It started innocently enough (as these things so often do *sigh*). It was proposed that a bunch of people get together and camp overnight on one of the islands surrounding Abu Dhabi. Nothing is ever really far away in Abu Dhabi so if the worst came to the worst we could always just hop on the boat and be safely back on terra-firma within half an hour, max. Mmmmhmmmmmm.
O, being the BBQ king that he is, was persuaded to deal with the food so our weekend began with four hours in the kitchen preparing and marinating 8kgs of meat and sundries (the sundries were my job – salads basically). All well and good, there were to be 16 of us after all! Plus the destination island comes complete with a public grill. Sorted.
We were a little late in leaving the dock in the first place, but it wasn’t too much of a problem in the grand scheme of things since we were spending the night. Anyhoo – we arrive at the island-with-grill only to find it is overrun with jet-skiers! This will not do since we wanted to swim and it is hazardous to ones health to be swimming where there are jet-skiers about. So we push on and find ourselves a nice little deserted island (I say deserted but there was a permanent camp a little way down the beach, lights, air-con, satellite!) and proceed to unload our stuff. A minor problem arises when it dawns upon the group that there is no grill on this beach, but “not to worry!” cries our captain – we have disposable BBQ thingies a-plenty. A-ha! Disaster narrowly averted.
While the captain went back to fetch some other soon-to-be-islanders, the rest of us proceeded to make camp. Having selected an area that was out of the wind, flat enough for our stuff to stay where we put it and far enough away from the apparent tide mark we happy few set out tables and chairs and some beach mats, constructed a tent or four, laid out the food, opened a bottle of sparkling grape-juice (ahem) and began the chilling out process.
When the captain finally came back (complete with one islander who brought a suitcase with wheels in which he had packed a shaving kit, cologne, pillows and a duvet – yes, there was much sniggering behind hands as we watched him dragging his case across the sand) it was getting dark so it seemed wise to get on with the BBQ. Two small disposable BBQs materialised. Allow me to remind you that we had a hella lot of meat to cook. O gamely gave it a shot but we realized after about an hour that it really wasn’t going to work. Added to the distinct lack of decent heat source was the issue of there being no light source! There were a couple of lanterns, but no wicks. There were some of those tiki torches, but not enough lighter fluid to keep them alight. While a giant search light was charging on the boat we had to make do with a little torch with dying batteries being shared between the BBQ and the camp-fire construction.
In the end it all got to be too much of a faff so we wrapped the meat in foil and threw it on the camp-fire to what it would. Turns out that you can cook alright food using this technique, but it doesn’t rival a good grilling.
After eating, the captain had to disappear again as there were a number of people not spending the night. I’d say, ooooh, maybe an hour after he left is when we noticed that the tide was coming in. And I’d give it maybe five minutes more before we realized that we were going to get flooded. Yup, flooded. The tide was coming in at a ridiculous rate and because we were on a flat there was no question of what the inevitable outcome would be if we didn’t act quickly.
I would not recommend having only two people while trying to shift the camping gear of seven people up a sand-dune* with the tide biting at your heels. I would suggest having at least twelve people to do that job. Sadly there were only five of us on the island at that stage and three weren’t at camp when the tide arrived. So O and I shleped as much as we could up the beach before the other three raced back and we all got it up the dune just. in. time! The camp-fire was gone, but the night was warm and we five waded out into the – now much nearer – water to wash the sweat off and play with the phosphorous. (My theory is that it is water angels and I do not want to be told any different thankyouverymuch.)
Four hours after leaving us, the captain and two other islanders got back and I promptly went to bed.
The next morning was early. At about 6am I awoke to find myself a sleeping bag wrapped dim sum in a tent-shaped bamboo steamer. Luckily there was a flask of coffee (vanilla and hazelnut flavoured!) and water that wasn’t yet at an undrinkable temperature. I was looking forward to a quick swim and then packing up to go home. Surely no one would really want to hang around after the farce of the night before.
From our vantage point on top of the sand dune the boat was clearly visible. As was the water. The boat. And the water. Or should I say:
Ah it seems so long ago now that we traipsed across the sea bed like some ancient mariners walking forth into the unknown after the tide betrayed us leaving our trusty vessel sand-banked, avoiding the urchins and me trying not to lose my flip-flops. All fun and games.
This past weekend saw us on another adventure, only this time it was more… prolonged.
It started innocently enough (as these things so often do *sigh*). It was proposed that a bunch of people get together and camp overnight on one of the islands surrounding Abu Dhabi. Nothing is ever really far away in Abu Dhabi so if the worst came to the worst we could always just hop on the boat and be safely back on terra-firma within half an hour, max. Mmmmhmmmmmm.
O, being the BBQ king that he is, was persuaded to deal with the food so our weekend began with four hours in the kitchen preparing and marinating 8kgs of meat and sundries (the sundries were my job – salads basically). All well and good, there were to be 16 of us after all! Plus the destination island comes complete with a public grill. Sorted.
We were a little late in leaving the dock in the first place, but it wasn’t too much of a problem in the grand scheme of things since we were spending the night. Anyhoo – we arrive at the island-with-grill only to find it is overrun with jet-skiers! This will not do since we wanted to swim and it is hazardous to ones health to be swimming where there are jet-skiers about. So we push on and find ourselves a nice little deserted island (I say deserted but there was a permanent camp a little way down the beach, lights, air-con, satellite!) and proceed to unload our stuff. A minor problem arises when it dawns upon the group that there is no grill on this beach, but “not to worry!” cries our captain – we have disposable BBQ thingies a-plenty. A-ha! Disaster narrowly averted.
While the captain went back to fetch some other soon-to-be-islanders, the rest of us proceeded to make camp. Having selected an area that was out of the wind, flat enough for our stuff to stay where we put it and far enough away from the apparent tide mark we happy few set out tables and chairs and some beach mats, constructed a tent or four, laid out the food, opened a bottle of sparkling grape-juice (ahem) and began the chilling out process.
When the captain finally came back (complete with one islander who brought a suitcase with wheels in which he had packed a shaving kit, cologne, pillows and a duvet – yes, there was much sniggering behind hands as we watched him dragging his case across the sand) it was getting dark so it seemed wise to get on with the BBQ. Two small disposable BBQs materialised. Allow me to remind you that we had a hella lot of meat to cook. O gamely gave it a shot but we realized after about an hour that it really wasn’t going to work. Added to the distinct lack of decent heat source was the issue of there being no light source! There were a couple of lanterns, but no wicks. There were some of those tiki torches, but not enough lighter fluid to keep them alight. While a giant search light was charging on the boat we had to make do with a little torch with dying batteries being shared between the BBQ and the camp-fire construction.
In the end it all got to be too much of a faff so we wrapped the meat in foil and threw it on the camp-fire to what it would. Turns out that you can cook alright food using this technique, but it doesn’t rival a good grilling.
After eating, the captain had to disappear again as there were a number of people not spending the night. I’d say, ooooh, maybe an hour after he left is when we noticed that the tide was coming in. And I’d give it maybe five minutes more before we realized that we were going to get flooded. Yup, flooded. The tide was coming in at a ridiculous rate and because we were on a flat there was no question of what the inevitable outcome would be if we didn’t act quickly.
I would not recommend having only two people while trying to shift the camping gear of seven people up a sand-dune* with the tide biting at your heels. I would suggest having at least twelve people to do that job. Sadly there were only five of us on the island at that stage and three weren’t at camp when the tide arrived. So O and I shleped as much as we could up the beach before the other three raced back and we all got it up the dune just. in. time! The camp-fire was gone, but the night was warm and we five waded out into the – now much nearer – water to wash the sweat off and play with the phosphorous. (My theory is that it is water angels and I do not want to be told any different thankyouverymuch.)
Four hours after leaving us, the captain and two other islanders got back and I promptly went to bed.
The next morning was early. At about 6am I awoke to find myself a sleeping bag wrapped dim sum in a tent-shaped bamboo steamer. Luckily there was a flask of coffee (vanilla and hazelnut flavoured!) and water that wasn’t yet at an undrinkable temperature. I was looking forward to a quick swim and then packing up to go home. Surely no one would really want to hang around after the farce of the night before.
From our vantage point on top of the sand dune the boat was clearly visible. As was the water. The boat. And the water. Or should I say:
The boat <-----------------------------------------------> And the water.
With the boat moored in sand and the sea somewhat further away from the boat than would be useful to facilitate us going home there could be only one conclusion. We were beached. Again. Only this time in a slightly less than fun manner since we couldn’t walk across the sea bed and we’d spent a night on the island and wanted to go home. Plus it was getting hot and it was only 6:30/7am.
Fret not however, for I am writing this to you from a lovely comfortable air-conditioned room and not using smoke signals to get the message to someone who can post it for me. At about 8:30am one of the fishermen from down the beach wondered over to tell us that the tide probably wouldn’t be back in until 3 o’clock that afternoon. We elected to have breakfast then call the coast guard to rescue us.
Perhaps inevitably, breakfast didn’t happen (I can now firmly attest that you cannot cook scrambled egg in a tin-foil tray over a butane burner) and neither did the coast guard. The local fishermen from down the beach did, however, and they sped us back home with all our stuff while leaving the captain and his loyal wife with their ship – or more accurately in the air-conditioned tent of the fishermen where they got to play with some puppies for a few hours, by recent accounts.
We made it home by midday which was nice as we got to sleep a lot and still have a bit of the day left to eat, shower and unwind our nerves which were like corkscrews by that stage.
Sadly, it was a less than happy ending for the captain. The previous nights tide was a “spring” tide which only occurs once a month when there is either a full moon or new moon – we had the new moon one – and is unusually high for only one night. Even though he anchored the boat quite far out from the beach, it was dark when he did so and was not quite far out enough. The kindly fishermen told him to go away for the night since the tide wouldn’t be coming back in for a looooong while, after dark they called some of their friends out and they dragged and floated the boat while the tide was just about high enough. The next day after work they called the captain to say his boat was in the water, cooked him supper when he arrived to pick it up and sent him on his way again.
I may complain on occasion about this place and the distinctly odd way in which things are often done. One thing I will never be able to praise enough, however, is the incredible generosity and hospitality of the Emiratis. Especially when it comes to stranded strangers.
*I use the term “dune” loosely, it was more like a sand-shelf but it was high and difficult to climb while pulling a tent so “’dune” will suffice.
Fret not however, for I am writing this to you from a lovely comfortable air-conditioned room and not using smoke signals to get the message to someone who can post it for me. At about 8:30am one of the fishermen from down the beach wondered over to tell us that the tide probably wouldn’t be back in until 3 o’clock that afternoon. We elected to have breakfast then call the coast guard to rescue us.
Perhaps inevitably, breakfast didn’t happen (I can now firmly attest that you cannot cook scrambled egg in a tin-foil tray over a butane burner) and neither did the coast guard. The local fishermen from down the beach did, however, and they sped us back home with all our stuff while leaving the captain and his loyal wife with their ship – or more accurately in the air-conditioned tent of the fishermen where they got to play with some puppies for a few hours, by recent accounts.
We made it home by midday which was nice as we got to sleep a lot and still have a bit of the day left to eat, shower and unwind our nerves which were like corkscrews by that stage.
Sadly, it was a less than happy ending for the captain. The previous nights tide was a “spring” tide which only occurs once a month when there is either a full moon or new moon – we had the new moon one – and is unusually high for only one night. Even though he anchored the boat quite far out from the beach, it was dark when he did so and was not quite far out enough. The kindly fishermen told him to go away for the night since the tide wouldn’t be coming back in for a looooong while, after dark they called some of their friends out and they dragged and floated the boat while the tide was just about high enough. The next day after work they called the captain to say his boat was in the water, cooked him supper when he arrived to pick it up and sent him on his way again.
I may complain on occasion about this place and the distinctly odd way in which things are often done. One thing I will never be able to praise enough, however, is the incredible generosity and hospitality of the Emiratis. Especially when it comes to stranded strangers.
*I use the term “dune” loosely, it was more like a sand-shelf but it was high and difficult to climb while pulling a tent so “’dune” will suffice.
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