Unique Mozambique

March 28^th, 1999

Surf trips seldom go according to plan. Invariably, things always seem to sort themselves out. In 1989, I organized a four-man, one-month trip to mainland Mexico. Three dropped out, leaving me alone to venture south of the border and assume the cost of the accommodations. Luckily, two other friends picked up the dropped ball and met up with me for my last week. Much to the dismay of the slacking surf trip dropouts, we scored perfect top to bottom Pascuales barrels every day (c'mon Tom, you remember how perfect it was!).

Ten years later, my first trip to Ponta do Ouro, Mozambique echoed the same tale. Gary planned this trip well in advance, paying for all parties in order to secure the beach house. At the last minute, Neil backed out of the trip and his payment obligation for his share of the rent. Two red-hot Durban surfers—Richie Sills and Llewellyn Whitaker—took his place, leaving no voids to be filled in the lineup. We laughed ourselves stupid as we surfed perfect right-handers with only a handful of guys in the water.

Mozambique is situated on the Indian Ocean on the east coast Africa. It's bordered by South Africa and Swaziland to the south, Zimbabwe, Zambia, and Malawi to the west, and Tanzania to the north. Mozambicans speak Portuguese since they used to be a Portuguese colony.

The route to Mozambique is the same as going to the Umfolozi/Hluhluwe Game Reserve, but it continues on for an extra couple of hundred kilometers. The extra road, or in some cases, lack thereof, is what makes the trip all the more interesting.

Once you turn off at Mkuze, you enter a twilight zone of endless potholes. Only Mexico could give this place a run for its money if ever there existed a pothole competition. I'm not talking about a few little brain rattlers, I'm talking about moon craters that rock you so hard your grandmother can feel it. And the spacing is impeccable, so impeccable that you have to continuously swerve like a drunken idiot just to keep your front axle from ripping off in an abyss. Definitely not a place for a Yugo, Mini, or Fiat!

You might think a few potholes is no big deal. But factor in cows, bulls, goats, children, and ladies with baskets balanced on their heads, all walking roadside and all obviously oblivious to your skillfully swerving vehicle, and you have one heck of an interesting drive. Sometimes you have to pretend you're an American driver and use the right side of the road because the left side is too far gone. Your standard South African machine gun-toting taxi driver confounds this technique by doing his own drunk driver imitation which is probably no imitation at all-God help us all.

Such poor road quality might prompt a little traffic division attention, right? Well yeah, partly. Instead of investing in FIXING the road, you see signs that say "Potholes Next 10 km." At the end of the 10 km, you see another sign that says, "Potholes Next 25 km." So I guess there's enough cash to put up a sign, but not enough to fix or pave the road.

Eventually, the potholes disappear-when the pavement ends and the dirt track begins! This introduces a nice vibration effect as you roll over the corrugated surface, but unfortunately it does nothing to comfort your stiff neck and numb ass from the previous few hours. Actually, once we got used to it, it was far better than having to drive like an inebriated idiot. And because we had trucks (we drove two vehicles) the large tires cushioned some of the impact, much nicer than driving my Toyota across South and Western Australia!

The heaviest roads were in Mozambique. We arrived at the South Africa/Mozambique border around 10:30 in the morning. From there it's only another 10 km to Ponta do Ouro. After a brief, albeit uneventful, stop at immigration, we saw why you need a 4x4 to get to Ponta. The recent heavy rains saturating the land eventually overflowed onto the sand and grass "road." Next thing we know, Gary the hellman is going mental through these "puddles" which were more like small lakes. And the fact we had a boat in tow certainly made it interesting. We made it to the camp a short while later.

Ponta do Ouro, Portuguese for Gold Point, is situated on the southeast tip of Mozambique just below the capital city of Maputo. I believe the area has only been open to tourism for a short time, mainly because of their recently concluded civil war. This is evident by the white United Nations trucks just outside the camp. They are stationed there with maps seeking out the last remaining landmines and limpets-400,000 of them! But with the El Nino effect and the resulting downpours, the land softened and altered their positions.

Mozambique's currency is called the Meticais. And much like the Mexican peso, it also doubles quite nicely for toilet paper in the unlikely event you find yourself, shall I say, "ill-prepared." One American dollar gives you 12,000 meticais, so $83 dollars makes you a millionaire-honey, we're cashing out and moving to Mozambique!!

Landmines, limpets, and Meticais aside, the scenery is quite beautiful. A large, mountainous headland forms the southern perimeter of the bay. It is covered with deep green jungle, which contrasts nicely against rich blue/green Indian Ocean. The beach, water, and, surrounding area are clear of litter and debris, a little Utopia unspoiled by mass tourism and self-serving human greed.

The accommodations are quaint but nice. We had a full-service, two bedroom beach bungalow right on the point. Lucky for us, the beds had mosquito net hooks in the ceiling that allowed us to hang our skeeter net condos. And you do NOT want to get stung by mosquitos in Mozambique. We were all on either Lariam or Daramal, but even with normal prophylaxis, you can still get malaria. Last I heard, they have the cerebral strain that can kill you in something like a day or two, if that-straight to the brain frying it like an egg.

Malaria mosquitoes are active at night from dusk to dawn. This thought does not sit well at night if you need to get up to take a squirt. The camp turns off the power generators so you have no lights, no phones, no motorcars, not a single luxury. It's like Robinson Crusoe, as primitive as can be. The first night, we had no idea where the flashlight was, so it was just easier to stay safe in bed curled up in the fetal position, uncomfortably squirming, praying your bionic bladder can hold you til sunrise. But hey, you do what you must for a little slice of paradise.

Ponta is mainly an aquatic oasis for watersport lovers. The South African-owned resort caters mainly to South Africans looking for an inexpensive tropical getaway. Diving and surfing are the prime activities, with fish-loaded reefs for the former and a premier righthand point break for the latter. Jet-skiing and boating are also popular, but are quite cumbersome since you must tow your equipment with you.

The set up for surfing is ideal. Warm, clear waves peel perfectly over a rock shelf into the large bay. It's easy to get out and it's quite safe since it mainly breaks in deep water. However, it can be dangerous if you biff a takeoff in front of the rocks that stick out to the side. The rip currents are generally not too bad, but it gets strong near tide changes. At one point, I felt like I was paddling on a treadmill!

The first day, we had some quality overhead surf. The second day was smaller on the point, so we explored around the headland to see what was on the other side. This entailed tramping through a very narrow, overgrown trail inhabited by some damn big bumblebees and wasps. We had to duck under one bee about an inch thick. The obscured passage made my mind race thinking about Mozambique Spitting Cobras.

We found a little sandbank with some fast, hollow grinders. There was no one out, which didn't give us any warm, fuzzy feelings inside knowing Ponta's reputation for tiger and ragged tooth sharks--this isn't to say we were praying for a crowd. We went back to the camp for our boards, at which time Gary was returning from a dive. We got him to ferry us back in the zodiac, but because the wind was strong and the swells were consistent, he couldn't get us too close to the take off zone. So we had to jump overboard into some spooky, deep blue water and paddle the rest of the way. Have you ever seen three shark-fearing surfers paddle so fast they were hydroplaning?

Luckily, we didn't see any massive black shadows cruising below us, but we did encounter some hecklers of the winged variety. There are these aggressive horseflies that land right smack dab in the middle of your back, as if they have some intricate knowledge of human anatomy and kinesiology and know that you can’t reach that area. The little bastards sure can bite hard, too!

Fortune smiled on our quick Mozambique excursion. Lady Luck granted us fantastic surf, diving, jet-skiing, and off-roading conditions. If you ever come to South Africa, you must go to Mozambique. It's conveniently located and it's cheap. Besides, who could resist the temptation of wiping their ass with 10,0000 Meticais!!