An Accidental Tour - Black River Gorge NP

There were no cabs as we were leaving Grand Bassin, so we decided to walk along the narrow road back to Bois Cheri to catch a bus. A 5km walk (3 miles) was good exercise and besides, we always see more when we walk than when we ride. Sure enough, we hadn't gone a mile when David spotted a gigantic snail slime-ing his way along the side of the road. We were thinking escargot, but this guy looked big enough to fight back (you know how vicious snails can be), so we let him be.  

We walked past tea fields, thick and green with leaves to be harvested. About a mile from the bus stop, a small car stopped and a Mauritian fellow waved us over. Robin asked where we were from and we chatted amiably on the side of the road. He said he was a senior advisor to the Prime Minister and he'd just come from the temple. He had a free day and in the interest of friendship, would we like to perhaps tour the Black River Gorge National Park and return to Port Louis along the coast road. We were skeptical. He allayed our concerns, assuring us he wanted no remuneration other than perhaps a contribution for gasoline and after due consideration, we hopped in the car and off we went.

This was not quite a 90-day event as we were to find out. He stopped for gas and we asked how much he needed … 1,000 Rps ($33.33US), he suggested … that seemed fair. He then asked if we'd like to stop for lunch and he described a Hindu restaurant along the way that he thought we'd like. It sounded wonderful and we, of course, felt obligated to pay for his lunch since he was such a generous host. It was a wonderful lunch of several Hindu specialties, served on a banana leaf and eaten with our fingers. The check at the end was a bit hard to swallow, however we chocked it up to a delightful eating experience and moved on. We were a bit suspicious that everyone at the restaurant seemed to know him and he disappeared for a few minutes after we paid the check, ostensibly to wash his hands.

We headed to the Black River Gorge National Park, high in the hills. He definitely knew his way around and skirted through alleys and back roads to avoid traffic. He just seemed too familiar with the area to be anything other than a tour guide. We viewed a few waterfalls along the route and he asked if there was anything in particular we wanted to see. “Monkeys”, I requested. He said we'd see lots and he was as good as his word. Long-tailed macaques (ma-KACKs), introduced by the Dutch in the 17th century, were quite numerous as we moved along the road through the national park, especially in areas where they received hand-outs from humans.

Robin asked if we liked wine. We said “yes” in unison, then thought we'd spoken too soon. He said Mauritius made a special lychee wine and liqueur that he knew we'd like and he'd taken the liberty of ordering some for us. “Oh, no... that's okay.” “Oh, I insist”, he said, “this wine is saved for dignitaries and only drunk on special occasions.” Obviously, we were special enough to buy some. Lucky us. We could have refused, I guess, but we didn't. We went with the flow and $50 later, we were the proud owners of two bland-looking, dull labeled, screw-top bottles of lychee wine and liqueur. We'll tell you how it tastes as soon as we have a special occasion to try it. Can hardly wait!

We continued along, Robin providing commentary as we went. As is many times the case, what is viewed as particularly special on a little island is not necessarily a unique world class site/sight. We didn't realize there was a fee to enter Chamarel, until we were in the queue for buying our tickets with no place to turn around. We would have given it a pass, but Robin insisted we'd never seen anything like it. The “Earth of Seven Colors” at Chamarel was interesting and scenic. Had we never seen the Painted Desert, the Badlands or Yosemite's colors, we might have been impressed, but we had seen them and Charmarel paled in comparison. Robin dropped us off and waited … hmmm … much like a tour guide might do.

Perhaps we're becoming jaded. Waterfalls, unless they're Niagara, Iguazu or Victoria, do not impress us any more either. Again, they were scenic and lovely to look at, but not all that dramatic. Of the several we saw, the Chamarel Falls were probably the best.

We descended from the mountains on narrow, switch-backed roads that Robin negotiated at a higher speed than we would have expected. Passing on curves and on steep, narrow stretches seem to be the norm, not the exception here. We had a few close calls, but no harm, no foul. We stopped at an overlook of the coast at Ilot Fortier that was really beautiful with a good view of Piton de la Petite Rivière Noire, Mauritius' highest mountain at 2,717' (828m).

The ride back to Port Louis was long and tiresome with heavy, slow-moving traffic. Robin was obviously tired, as were we. He worked hard to keep up the conversation, but we'd depleted all reasonable topics and a quiet set in until he tuned the radio to some lively Indian music and hummed along. As promised, he let us out near the marina and though we felt he was a bit of a charlatan, we hadn't been fleeced all that badly. We chocked it up to an island experience.

Hindu Temples and Grand Bassin

 Hindus represent over 50% of the population in Mauritius. Most Indians have been here for generations, descendants of the the indentured laborers who immigrated here in the mid-19th century to work the sugar plantations. There are large Hindu temples in most every town and small temples along the roadside and in front of people's homes. There are several here in Port Louis. In fact, one right next to the Immigration Square Bus Terminal. They are colorful, busy, intricate … almost to the point of garishness, but I find them fascinating.

hindu temples in port louis

I'd read about Grand Bassin in the south central part of the country. It's a natural lake high in the hills of Mauritius and it's sacred to the Hindus. Legend has it that the waters of the Ganges River in India flow under the ocean to Grand Bassin, known to the Hindus as Ganga Talao. We took an early morning bus to La Flora, then changed to a bus to Bois Cheri and then caught a collective taxi (shared rides) to the temple. It was quite cool after the heat of the city and it rained off and on during our visit. Figuring out where to go isn't a mystery. You ask and someone points the way. We follow directions well. We knew we had arrived when we saw a huge statue of Shiva, the supreme being in the Hindu religion.

big shiva

There are temples all around the lake and we just followed the path to visit them. There are few restrictions for visitors. Remove shoes before entering a temple. No consumption of alcoholic beverages in the area. Be respectful of the temple and those praying. Otherwise, we were free to wander, observe and learn a bit. The first temple was absolutely beautiful. Perched high on a hill overlooking the lake, there was an archway which led down a steep flight of stairs to the water where the actual temple was located.

archway to the lake

We walked along the lake's edge keeping a respectful distance from those worshiping. We caught the scent of incense burning and we could hear a mantra, chanted over and over. The lake was calm and still and the place was peaceful and serene.

lake temple

There are small altars all along the edge of the lake. Several had offerings called prasada on them. Placed on a banana leaf, the offerings we saw consisted of fruits, coconut, flowers and sweets.

altars and offerings

Once left unattended, the local birds and monkeys evidently finish up what the gods didn't eat.

bulbul eating offering

We walked along the lake and came to what we determined was the main temple. There were large statues of Hindu deities, many with offerings at their feet, scattered along the lake's edge.

statues

We have a special affection for Ganesh. With his elephant head and pot belly, he is revered as an obstacle remover. He's considered a patron of the arts and is known for his wisdom and intellect. He's an all-around nice kind of guy, for a god, that is.

ganesh

At the entrance to the temple, we removed our shoes and walked inside. A ceremony was being conducted in the inner temple. We wandered past several displays of different deities, trying to keep them straight. We couldn't, of course. There are purported to be some 33 million different deities in Hindu religion, which, by the way, is claimed to be the oldest religion in the world.

shrines inside temple

A Hindu pandit (priest) approached us and asked if we would like a blessing. David deferred, but I needed all the blessing I could get. He applied a “tilak”, a red Hindu religious symbol on my forehead, then placed his hands on my head and blessed me and my family, asking for peace, safety, harmony and prosperity. I took this blessing as a positive sign for our upcoming passage. We are not religious, but I'm interested in the way different people practice their religion.

being blessed

There were no cabs around when it was time to leave, but having enjoyed our visit to the temple, we felt more inclined to walk back to town anyway, about 5km away. Interestingly, there are about 90 different religions practiced freely in the tiny country of Mauritius. The mix is something like 52% Hindu, 30% Christian, 16% Muslim and 2% Chinese religions. There seems to be no conflict at all on religious grounds, but rather a harmonious acceptance of the differences in beliefs. Wish we could accomplish this in other parts of the world.

The Blue View - Local Experts

 

As I write this, we are rafted up against a boat, who is in turn tied up to a concrete jetty in Mauritius. Mauritius is a stopping place for most of the boats making their way from either Australia or Asia to South Africa, and because of the weather cycles and the cyclone season in the South Indian Ocean, almost all of them arrive here between mid-September and mid-November. This year is no exception, and the tiny marina is pretty full, with boats rafted up two deep all along the jetty.

Since all the boats have arrived here after a long passage from somewhere, most have problems to be resolved and things to be fixed. My list is fairly short, the biggest thing being the bent toggle on the end of our whisker pole that I would like to get replaced. We will need a machinist with a milling machine and lathe, and who has access to 1” (25mm) round stainless steel rod. The boat next to us has engine problems and issues with both their satellite and HF radio communications; the boat across from us needs repairs to their generator; another nearby boat has a bad engine heat exchanger and a leaking water heater...

It isn't surprising that a cottage industry has developed here with lots of 'experts' to help us sailors make our repairs. There are mechanics, electrical and electronic techs, sailmakers, machinists and carpenters, all intent on making enough money from the cruisers during this three month period to tide them over for the rest of the year. Since we are perceived as wealthy and naïve (stupid maybe?), and since we will only be here a week or two before moving on, probably never to return, we are ripe for the picking. I am sure some of the specialists actually have some expertise in their fields, and are honest and reliable tradesmen. I am equally sure there are just as many or more of these 'experts' who know a whole lot more about how to take advantage of cruisers than they do their purported field of expertise. The problem, of course, is determining one from the other without getting burned too badly.

The boat with the generator problem has been here almost a month and has spent over $3000 to date, as one after another part was determined to be the cause of the problem. Each part was air freighted in and installed, but when the problem persisted, the mechanic explained there was yet another bad part. Three expensive parts have now been replaced, and the mechanic is no longer returning the skipper's calls.

The boat with the communications problem had a slightly better experience – the technician replaced only two parts, the tuner and the modem, but at least his HF radio now seems to work. The mechanic that worked on the heat exchanger dismantled it and welded the damaged section, promising to have it back and installed in the next day or so. If it works and the price is not exorbitant, I'll happily conclude there is at least one honest and knowledgeable tradesman here.

Our past experiences with local experts have been somewhat better. In most places, we have been able to find wonderful people who charged a fair price. But we have also been burned enough times to make me quite wary when I began looking for a machinist to make the part for the whisker pole.

In most port towns that cater to yachties there is a guy, usually a taxi driver, that makes his living helping the cruisers – whether it be getting diesel, providing tours, finding a part or locating the right expert. Sometimes the guy is trustworthy and has built up a good reputation among the cruisers – Jesse James in Trinidad is a good example. Sometimes the guy is a total scoundrel, gouging the yachties to make a quick buck, but word soon gets out and these guys don't last long. More often, however, the guy is somewhere in between. He knows where everything is and who the good experts are, but charges a lot for this information.

Rashid is the yachtie 'go-to' guy here in Mauritius. He introduced himself to us before we even got our dock lines tied up. We had heard of Rashid from other cruisers, and he had mixed reviews. Some felt he was fair, but expensive, while others felt he had gouged them. Thus, I was a bit wary when I asked Rashid if he knew a machinist who could make our our whisker pole toggle.

To remove the old toggle would require several hours of work. A corroded set screw would have to be drilled out, and it would take a lot of persuasion to get the toggle free. I didn't want to go to all this effort until I was sure I could get the replacement part made and at a reasonable price.

I asked Rashid if he knew a machinist that could make the toggle. After a quick look at the whisker pole, he replied “Oh yes, my friend, I know a man who can make just such a thing. Give me the part and I will get you the new one made.” Hmmm. I said “I need to talk to the machinist first, to make sure he has the right material and to find out how much it will cost.” Rashid replied “ Trust me, my friend, this man has all types of stainless, and the price will be very cheap.” I really didn't want to remove the old toggle and hand it over to Rashid based on this. I said “I have a drawing and some photos of the old part. I really need to talk to the machinist.” Rashid replied, somewhat reluctantly I thought, that he would take me to the machinist. I asked Rashid what the cost was for the taxi ride, and he replied “Don't worry – it will be a good price and we can work it out later”.

I hopped in his taxi, and we took a 10 minute ride through a maze of back streets, arriving at a small machine shop inside a garage. I showed my drawing and photos to the machinist, who assured me he could make the part and had access to 316 stainless. I asked him the cost, and he replied “Don't worry, my friend, it will be very cheap”. We returned to the marina, whereupon Rashid told me the taxi fare was 500 Rupees – about $18. I said that this was about triple the usual taxi fare. Rashid replied with a shrug, “Maybe, but a regular taxi wouldn't know where the machinist was.” Good point.

I paid the 500 Rupees – but I've decided the toggle can wait until South Africa. Once I hand over my old toggle and the machinist makes a new one, I will be obligated to pay whatever he asks. Despite his assurances, my “very cheap”, blue-eyed special price may well end up being considerably more than I think it is worth.