Thankfully those giant waves marked a turning point in the storm. From then on the winds decreased and the seas slowly became more civilized.  But for us there was only one choice. We had to make for the Seychelles to repair our damaged steering.

It took 5 days to reach the Seychelles. Beating the entire way. Our shattered steering system was constantly taking more than its usual share of strain. It was only on the day we arrived that the wind came fair and we could sail into Victoria harbor, on Mahe Island.

Entering Victoria harbor is usually a very simple process. With our broken steering and rudder it was nerve racking. I would call down a steering change and the helmsman or woman would turn the rudder by hauling on the tackles. Nothing would happen so they would haul more. This would go on until suddenly the rudder would flop over to one side and we would careen off in another direction.  In a tight reef fringed channel that is not the recommended way to pass a peaceful afternoon.

Victoria port control was wonderful. They helped us in every way they could. They vectored us to the entrance and followed us through the channels with their radar. The pilot boat came out and guided us into the anchorage. We became famous by narrowly missing a 60 ton mooring buoy painted bright yellow and another sail boat on anchor. What a great way to meet new friends. Imagine the thrill of looking out of your 30-foot sloop to see Vega bearing down on you directly amidships.

Well, we made it safely and once on anchor the formalities were quickly taken care of.  It was then we learned that we had survived one of the worst cyclones in 20 years.

Cyclone Garfilo was a monster, even for the Indian Ocean. It had winds of over 105 knots at the center. That storm we later learned sunk two large freighters and a deep-sea passenger ferry with a loss of over 300 lives. We didn’t know what we were in at the time. We only knew it was impressive.

Garfilo was also a freak for moving so far North of the normal cyclone routes. Fortunately we had been in the Northern quadrant of the storm and tacked out of its direct path.

After the officials left, I set the anchor watches, taking the first watch for myself. The rest of the crew hit their bunks for the best sleep of their lives. As I looked around I couldn’t help being amazed. We had survived the storm. We had survived a broken rudder. We were safe in port, proud of ourselves, and of Vega. “So that’s how she survived 114 years of the North Sea”, I thought. Vega just bobbed at her anchor.