Magoodhoo to Veymandhoo

Magoodhoo

29 April

📍 Magoodhoo · 003°04.839′N, 072°57.451′E · Faafu Atoll (Northern Nilandhe)

They are building an airport at Magoodhoo, but I suspect the workers had downed tools for the day because the weather was battering the island.

On the way here, we had squalls producing around 20 knots of wind and enough rain to power-wash any remnants of tern detritus off the deck. That wind, however, was nothing compared to the 30+ knot blasting we endured after dropping the anchor at Magoodhoo. And it was even worse for the crew of Meikyo, who arrived here just in time for a rude rinsing.

Our plan on arrival was to get the dinghy down and go ashore once the wind had calmed down, but no way was that going to happen. Although the wind later reduced to a relative zephyr at 13 knots, the sea state remained lumpier than a boxer’s face. We stayed in and read instead.

Magoodhoo sits on the western edge of Faafu Atoll. The island is inhabited but small, home to a few hundred people, and, at the time of writing, a construction crew are (at least when the rain stops) building what will become one of the Maldives’ newest domestic airports.

Bodufushi

30 April – 2 May

📍 Bodufushi · 002°42.320′N, 072°51.085′E · Dhaalu Atoll (Southern Nilandhe)

There was no way we were going to hang around at Magoodhoo. The next day we headed over to Bodufushi, a small uninhabited island in the northern reaches of Dhaalu Atoll. The island is inhabited by strange-looking people who arrived from the sky, wearing brightly coloured shorts that enhance the pallor of their near-translucent skin. They are often spotted wandering around the beach and, in the off-season, like now, scurrying for shelter from the rain. That will be the holidaymakers.

Satellite images show life here before these alien invaders arrived, and the transformation is remarkable. Two islands are now effectively joined by a string of overwater bungalows. To stay at the resort, you need to stump up between $500 and $650 US of your hard-earned cash per night, depending on whether you want the Palace version or not. But, to help you to drown your financial sorrows, regardless of the wealth-sapping alternative you choose, the hotel is all-inclusive.

We anchored in 14 metres near the RIU Palace Resort for free, just before the rain arrived.

The weather the next day wasn’t as bad as forecast, so we got the dinghy down, attached the large petrol guzzler to it and headed off to Kudahuvadhoo.

Kudahuvadhoo

After around 20 minutes and 3 miles of bashing into lumpy seas and overcoming some confusion surrounding the location of the harbour entrance, we arrived at Kudahuvadhoo on a dual quest.

• Me: to find the Hawatti mounds that Thor Heyerdahl came across here.
• Maria: shopping.

Fortunately, as it was Friday, the shops were closed until later in the afternoon. That gave me a clear run on my quest.

TripAdvisor, Google, and any local guide sites I could find on t’internet gave no clue about the location of these Hawitta mounds, so we walked around without much of a plan, hoping to stumble across them.

We headed west, then east, then south to the airport and back, and eventually came across the old Friday Mosque that Thor Heyerdahl mentioned as a landmark near the Hawittas. But the only mounds we could see were the sand mounds of some local building site. When I asked at a local shop (now regretfully open), they, too, pointed me back to the Friday Mosque.

Still, it was an interesting place to walk around, with comfortable seating in netted comfort all over the place and lots of fragrant flowers everywhere.

Because it is such a large town and a fishing port, there are shops everywhere. The most extensive of these is Viola, which seems to have everything covered: a supermarket, a hardware shop, and a restaurant. We tried all three, and in one I bought a large electric fly swatter for the Maldivian flies that seem impervious to fly spray. To them, it’s like cologne.

We got the impression that there’s quite a bit of wealth here relative to some of the islands.

Back to Veymandhoo

The wind was up when it was time to go back to Jamala, so it was a bit of a bouncy and wet ride getting back. But it was worth it. We saw some sights and met some of the locals for a bit of a chat. We may not have seen the Hawittas, but we did get some bread flour, mangos, coffee and a muffin in the cafe, and that electric fly swatter to deal with the flies that are impossible to murder with fly spray. It’s game on.

There was plenty of time to practice with the fly swatter the next day. Grey skies and rain encouraged us to batten the hatches and stay in. Our sole venture outside was to get the petrol outboard back on its stand and the dinghy up on the davits. We are planning to leave for Veymandhoo tomorrow.

The brightest thing about the day was the moonrise.

Veymandhoo

3 – 5 May

📍 Veymandhoo · 002°11.357′N, 073°05.420′E · Thaa Atoll (Kolhumadulu)

We started our journey to Veymandhoo at 6 am in the rain, but at least the wind was in the right direction. Unfortunately, the swell wasn’t. There’s a heavy cross swell between the atolls, and this 8-mile crossing between them was particularly uncomfortable; so much so that it stunned Maria into silence and a slight tinge of green.

As soon as we entered the next Atoll, things got better; the sea state flattened out, and we were able to sail all the way to Veymandhoo, arriving around 2 hours earlier than anticipated.

If the pass at Maagaa Reef was sphincter-tightening, this was sufficient to provide a permanent bum lift. Not only was it narrow, but with the sky heavy with cloud, it was also very ill-defined. We had to rely mostly on satellite imagery as a guide to get us through, with Maria at the bow giving me directions on where to steer.

Here is a photograph of Eternaut heading towards the pass. Driving your boat towards the rocks feels more than a little counterintuitive.

This place is like a lobster pot for boats. It was hard getting in, but nearly impossible to get out in the 30-knot winds. So we waited until things had calmed down before attempting our exit.

We escaped Veymandhoo just before high water. Luckily, the wind speed had dropped from its now-normal 20-plus knots to 14, so with the tide and wind aligning, we made a dash for the rocks marking the pass to get out. We thought we were going to be stuck here for days. I also thought we might get stuffed up on the reef on the way out. Fortunately we didn’t. 

Turning right after the depth increased from a tense  4.5 metres to a breathe-again 30 metres, we set course for Huvadhu atoll, sailing jib and jigger at around 80 degrees, trying to judge our arrival at the atoll entrance for  0600. That was easier said than done. The current in this channel is bonkers. Without touching the sails and with a constant wind speed, our boat speed varied from 5.5 knots to 3.5 knots.