Onwards to Malawi

like playing a character in the African Queen - sailing to Malawi on the Ilala ferry

One thing i have failed in either vaccinating against or preventative medicine is for cold and flu. I spend the evening blowing snot from my face and by 5am next morning my throat is in rebellion too.

The Ilala steamboat plies the waters of Lake Malawi in alternating directions twice a week. Built in Glasgow in 1947 it has been in service ever since. How you manage to get a steamboat into the African interior seems so improbable, but shipped and carried by hand overland in parts. It was then reassembled in Monkey Bay in the southern part of Lake Malawi.

The Ilala ferry no longer docks on the shore of Cobue, but stops off at Likoma island. Tuesdays it sails to Monkey Bay, but i opt for the Saturday sailing to Nkarta Bay – if nothing else to find an ATM and stock up on Kwacha – the Malawian currency.

Taking a public sailing at 7am across from Cobue to Likoma it is a two hour crossing and cost Mtc200. The Immigration Officer comes down to “greet me” on the beach, gives me the full 30 day visa and tells me that the Ilala ferry will be arriving between 5pm and 10pm.

As i head off to explore the town and kill several hours, i am invited into the office/home of Lester, a Malawian local who has just signed a second 7 year contract with the Lake Milawi Project, an NGO established by a British Buddhist guy who spent three years teaching at the local school. The project is manifold including IT Training, AIDS and HIV support work, and Lester’s great passion, sustainable subsistence agriculture.

I have always got time for visionaries who seek the betterment of others, and Lester certainly falls into this category.

He gives lectures in local community halls and also tries to lead by example, having recently begun growing tomatoes, potatoes and carrots in an enclosed patch of the beach using compost to enrich the sand.

Lester is eloquent in English and offers several interesting if depressing insights into the corruption, nepotism and bribery throughout the country. He helps change my remaining Meticas into Kwacha, takes me to the Hungry Clinic, a good local restaurant and invites me to generally hang-out and chew the fat. Clearly very honest and sincere, he is known and clearly respected by everyone – a pillar of a society that still cares about pillars.

Likoma would be recommended a stop-over with a few lodges at a variety of prices, an interesting cathedral and some of cheapest diving to be had in Africa.

Rumours abound that the boat is running late and i tell Lester i’ll head over to the dock to wait patiently. He’ll have none of it saying i am his responsibility. This may be just as well, for by this stage i am floating in and out of fever. Lester insists we will hear the ferry dock as we grab a coke at the aerodrome, but by 10.30 i am anxious and a pal drives us to the ferry terminal - a small cove and beach landing.

It is complete pitch and whilst one senses a small crowd around, it’s pretty impossible to see much. The ferry finally comes into view at 11.30pm and anchors some 1000 metres offshore by 12.30. A flotilla of small transfer boats, both engine and paddle powered start the transfer of what transpires to be the multitudes laden with boxes and crates. It’s a complete shambles as crowds scramble and scream into the darkness, with children and babies wailing in tow. Again i thank Lester and tell him to go home, but he will have none of it. We patiently for about hour before inching forward to the transfer crafts. Wade heavy with both people and cargo i notice that the water line is scarily low and although perched at the front top end, i can feel my ass getting wet. Lester carries my rucksack whilst i carry my “day pack” (The Beast, Computer, MP3 player and notebook – it weighs as much as the backpack).

We pull up against the Ilala and meet pandemonium. It is complete mayhem with boxes, crates and people scattered all over. It takes some 10 minutes to navigate to the upper level of the boat whilst playing contortionist, bucking and twisting and trying to avoid smashing my head into the low ceiling as i clamber inexpertly around boxes and limbo under railings. Finally arriving on the upper deck, it is cold and no sign of any mattress hire as mentioned by Lonely Planet.

Fortunately and not surprisingly, Lester knows one of the deck-hands and procures me a key to Cabin 1. The room is small and somewhat aged, but it feels like heaven, especially whilst i feel like crap. Whilst waiting to set sail, i make the most of the sink and hot water for a shave. We finally hoist anchor at 3.30am.

my own cabin - a great place to combat fever

I ask twice to purchase the ticket and i am told someone will be around to collect the money. He finally shows up at 9.15am and charges a whopping K7230 (almost US$40!). However a cabin entitles one to a relatively clean toilet and hot shower area and free breakfast. Indeed the Full English is cracking (probably more so because of my desperate need for sustenance) which i enjoy leisurely during the penultimate stop before my chosen destination – Nkarta Bay. Unfortunately lunch is not free but nonetheless enjoy chicken and fries – for i have been forced to live on fish for much longer than i would have chosen.

disembarkation at Nkarta Bay

off the stern of the Ilala Ferry



Ten hours after setting sail from Lekoma we finally start to disembark. With a jetty to greet passengers, this is a far less painful experience than the boarding mayhem.

Lester is always happy to meet and greet visitors and can be contacted on his Malawi cell 0993 702 058