Animals, adventure, and a pit stop for riders off Johannesburg’s city limits.



It’s sunrise on a Saturday morning in South Africa and I am wide awake. Spring is one of my favorite seasons. With spring, comes the uplifting scent of the Jacarandas as they start to bloom, the smell of the wet earth and freshly-cut grass mixed with the smell of exhaust fumes as I pass the sights and sounds as a pillion passenger on a motorbike.



Just before the expedition, I ensure all necessary safety checks are done and take the winter lining off my jacket. I stand, rubbing my hands together to beat the misty morning cold as my fiancé turns on the ignition, warming up in preparation for our daytime two-wheel adventure.



Helmet on, inhibitions off and we’re on our way. The silence on the roads is rattled by the noise of the engine revving up at each red robot and my ears slowly adjust to the muffled noises of the outdoor world as I wear ear plugs to protect myself from the whistling wind and the screaming engine.



I hold on tightly as the city and red robots fade away and the views begin to unfold of open, uninterrupted roads. We encounter other bikers and a respectful nod is passed between riders in the split second they’re able to glance at each other. There is an assault of fresh air through an opening in my helmet.&nbsp;



Riding around the Cradle of Humankind site northwest of Johannesburg gifts us with sceneries of green rolling hills and sleepy farm life. The long and winding roads are adorned with bikers and cyclists alike, all of whom pause at certain points on this Saturday morning to take in the valleys and knolls that dot the landscape.



The last few kilometers to our destination prove tenuous to me at best as the pot holes and speed bumps are a challenging experience. The Black Horse Brewery &amp; Distillery is a hidden gem nestled away in the rocky green mountains of Magaliesburg. Stopping here is the norm for bikers.&nbsp;



Accompanying the delightful breakfast spread here are the animals who roam between tables looking for nibbles. A stoutly Pekingese and genteel Maltese wait patiently as they receive attention from loyal patrons.



Outside, horses trot around rather majestically as they return to their stables from their morning canter. Meandering through the property reveals a garden and grounds that could be the picture for a postcard.&nbsp;



The rustic feel of the buildings and intimacy of the architecture make this a popular venue, as evidenced by a wedding party preparing for their special day. &nbsp;



Having meandered through the grounds one last time and thanking the warm staff, we don our gear and make our way to the exit. Mounting the bike, I smile because our journey begins again. More adventure awaits.

Visitors center, Cradle of Humankind, Tumulus Building exterior earth covered

South Africa On Two Wheels

It’s easy to momentarily forget about the company closures, job losses and business failures that have become all too common in Zimbabwe in the past few years when you look at the entrepreneurial success of Zimbabwean pastor, Shingi Munyeza.
Gifted with a passion for the services industry, Munyeza has shuttled from being the biggest investor in African Sun – the largest hospitality group in the country – to a new franchised restaurant venture that is thriving.
His choice to sell his stake in African Sun may appear to lack logic, especially considering that he was chief executive officer of the hotels venture for 13 years.
“There are three reasons why I exited African Sun, namely to allow for a new anchor shareholder who had deeper pockets to both invest in the company and expand the business – I did not have such deep pockets – and to allow a new management team to bring fresh ideas,” says Munyeza.
But it is the third reason that really compelled him to exit the business that runs hotels including Crowne Plaza, Holiday Inn and the iconic Elephant Hills Resort in Victoria Falls.
“I wanted to pursue other entrepreneurial opportunities without the limitations of a corporate office, hence why I started the current ventures and more to come.”
The idea to move into the franchised restaurant industry sprouted in Munyeza’s mind in 2008 “after seeing a niche market in this sector of hospitality” when he was still CEO of African Sun. This led to the creation in 2013 of franchised restaurant units under regional and international brands such as Mugg &amp; Bean and News Cafe.
“I funded the initial stores from personal equity and then brought in two regional banks to co-fund this through debt instruments. In total, we now have nine outlets and are working on another three over the next 12 months,” says Munyeza.
This area represents a niche market for Munyeza and he says this is for the high-end market that has been exposed to these brands in other countries, such as South Africa. The approach is to have “regional and global standards and to ensure that these are maintained at all costs”.
Munyeza appears to have done his homework and many reckon that his efforts have been aided by his vast experience in the industry.
“My worst day was my best day since I started these ventures in food franchises. It was on November 3, 2013, when we opened our first franchised store, Mugg &amp; Bean. We had such an overwhelming response from the market that we ended up closing the shop because we could not cope.”
“The worst part was we failed to deliver to customer expectation because we underestimated the demand from the market on both our service and product. It was the best day because without any above-the-line advertising the shop was continuously busy from morning ‘til we had to close at 4PM, when we should have closed at 10PM,” he says.
But being a Christian businessman, whose ventures count alcohol among the products offered, has led to critics saying his business goes against Christian principles. He, however, shrugs off the criticism, saying the business is for the greater good of the community as it employs people and offers services that are required by society.
Since he is a man of the cloth, he must know the passage in the Bible where Jesus admonishes a rich young ruler, telling his disciples: “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God.”
“It is very possible for a rich man to enter heaven. The point is always the love of money which hinders people to heaven. Money must always resource the purpose that God gave you and in itself must never be the purpose that God gave you,” says Munyeza.
He gives examples of some of the richest men in the bible, including Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, Joshua, David, Solomon, Joseph of Arimathea, as well as some the disciples during Jesus’ time. He believes that he has been predestined to be both an entrepreneur and an evangelist.
But he has not been spared the struggles of any other entrepreneur and this includes the economic hardships in Zimbabwe. But, he believes that entrepreneurs are born to emerge out of difficult situations and he explains that he has failed more than he has been successful in his entrepreneurial life.
“I have failed seven times out of the 10 times I have tried to get into ventures. I’ve always had the faith and hope to get up and try again,” says Munyeza.
At the start of each day, Munyeza reads from the Bible and prays before reviewing the previous day’s sales reports. He then moves on to digest and watch news headlines before sitting in meetings. “From there on it becomes a fight in the jungle,” he says.
It’s a fight he seems to be winning.

It Is Easy For A Rich Man To Enter Heaven After All

Rich Africans may make their money in Africa, but enjoy spending it in London. After all, London has it all. Nobody is going to be imprisoned because their face no longer fits. The legal system is fair and what’s yours remains yours. Best of all, London has a world-class financial system, which is quite happy to take an African’s wealth and grow it for them. Even with a first-world tax system, London boasts 45 billionaires, making it the world’s fourth richest city.
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<h4>Education</h4>
For successful Africans, nothing is more important than educating their children for future success. Britain is rather good at this, and school is where you make friends and contacts for life. It defines your social status. A recent Tatler article on wealthy Nigerians highlighted Florence Otedola, the 20-year-old King’s School-educated daughter of Femi Otedola, one of Nigeria’s richest men. Boarding fees for King’s in 2014-15 are $55,700, and according to Tatler, Nigerians spend $500 million every year at British universities and schools such as Benenden, Wycombe Abbey, Cheltenham Ladies’ College, Eton, Harrow and Bradfield.
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<h4>Concierge service</h4>
Rich people employ a concierge business to open doors in London, and rich Africans are no exception. Veronica Voronina is CEO and Founder of her own concierge business, The Anonymous, which has a number of wealthy African clients. The idea is to allow the superrich to plug into a network of excellence.
“Our database is our best asset. We source the best of everything – doctors, lawyers, property agents, party planners, nannies, restaurants, hotels, even the best diamonds,”
says Vorinina.
It’s all about price and quality.
“Rich people didn’t get rich by wasting money.”
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<h4>Houses</h4>
Many wealthy Africans have business interests in London. So, even if they are only there for a few weeks a year, Africans like to buy. The preferred areas are Knightsbridge, Belgravia, St John’s Wood, and Kensington and Chelsea. The most controversial development is One Hyde Park in Knightsbridge, described as the most expensive residential development on earth. One apartment reputedly sold for $230 million. Several billionaire Africans have bought there, but few live there; it is an investment not a home. Upper-class Londoners, priced out of their natural habitat by international interlopers, are said to be increasingly unhappy.
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<h4>Hotels</h4>
Africans fly around the world in pursuit of business deals and the hotel they choose to stay in often defines their social status. The most prestigious hotels to namedrop are the grand old London hotels, The Lanesborough, The Dorchester and Claridges. The Royal Suite at Claridges will set you back around $82,000 per week. And of course the Mandarin Oriental in Knightsbridge is the quintessential business hotel chain. Younger entrepreneurs may prefer boutique hotels like Andre Balazs’ Chiltern Firehouse hotel. All reek of exclusivity.
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Shopping
Wealthy Africans love to shop. Their favorite stores in London are Harvey Nichols, Harrods and Selfridges. It’s a well-oiled world of shopping by appointment, private openings, personal shoppers and trips to private shopping departments, as well as limousines and drivers to carry the shopping home. The shopping company Premier Tax Free reports that Nigerians account for 46.3% of total African sales in London and the fastest-growing region for international sales in Britain this year has been Africa, whose spend has grown by 45% year on year.
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<h4>Experiences</h4>
The Beatles sang money can’t buy you love. But according to concierge company, The Anonymous, money can buy pretty much everything else. One client, convinced the world was coming to an end, decided to splash out. Alongside gas masks and copious quantities of food, they wanted the best, no expense spared, holiday ever. A private jet was hired for a three-week trip around the United States. Helicopters flew the family over the Grand Canyon and New York. The client splashed $25,000 on the illusionist Criss Angel and then went to Universal Studios in Florida on a VIP pass. Hopefully the holiday offset any disappointment that the world still exists.
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<h4>Private jets</h4>
For mere mortals, travel is conducted by commercial plane and train. For the uber-wealthy transport is done by private jet. And if you don’t own one, you charter one. Charter companies like Little Blue will fly you to Paris for the weekend for around $20,000. Nigerians don’t just use private jets to carry themselves; they take their lifestyle with them.
“If someone wants basic food &#8211; milk, bread, cheese, yogurt – I’ll go somewhere, like Whole Foods, and pick up the employer on the way to Farnborough (a small airport on the outskirts of London), load it on the plane and send it off,” says Ansema Fagapona, who works with rich families.
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<h4>Superyachts</h4>
Yachting is as much about the exclusive lifestyle as it is about owning a boat. With it comes access to a world beyond the reach of mere mortals. For those who can afford it, glittering European destinations like Monaco, Cannes and the azure seas of Sardinia beckon, and few luxury experiences are better than being on a yacht.
To order a new superyacht at one shipyard, tycoons need to put their names on a five-year waiting list. A weekly charter of the stunning 65-metre superyacht, Imagine, at $710,000 per week may be the preferred option.
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<h4>Celebrations</h4>
What is better than going to an Akon concert with friends to celebrate your 16th birthday? How about a private Akon gig? Did I mention that the 15 friends were all flown to a private island near Dubai, transported in limousines and given Michelin-star catering? Wealthy Africans certainly know how to party. And if you would like to treat your wife on your wedding anniversary, why not hire the renowned Cipriani’s Italian restaurant in Mayfair for a night. You and your beloved can be the only diners on the night, with Beverly Knight on vocals  to add a special touch of romance. Ahhh.
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<h4>Polo</h4>
Polo is famously the sport of kings and was introduced to Lagos in the 1930s through the Lagos Polo Club. Today, in Britain, you will find oil and gas supremo Kola Karim playing polo with Prince William and Prince Harry at Andrew Lloyd-Webber’s private estate, and at Cowdray Park, the best polo ground in the country. The Veuve Clicquot Gold Cup is the most prestigious competition and Nigeria’s Prince Albert Esiri has competed several times. A team of four players, each with a dozen or more top polo horses, would need millions of dollars to play a sing

How Africans Splash Their Cash

It was a bright, sunny day when a fleet of 36 yachts left the shores of Cape Town, South Africa, for Brazil in the 2014 Cape to Rio race. One of the yachts, Investec Ciao Bella, has the most unlikely crew; it’s manned by an entire family, the Robinsons. Unlike many professional competitors, their idea of a family holiday consists of a month ploughing through the cold ocean, ducking under flying fish, gawking at glowing dolphins and watching out for floating containers as deadly as icebergs.
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In January, the family left African shores sporting shirts, short-sleeved vests and plenty of sunscreen. Little did they know they would sail in 60 knots of wind and 8-meter swells; a storm no-one was expecting was on the horizon. It claimed one man’s life and crippled a third of the fleet.
“If you look at the weather imaging from that day all you will see is this giant eye of cloud. And we sailed straight into it,” says Mike Robinson.
In 2011, Mike and his wife Gill, sons Ricky (23), Brennan (22), and Ryan (14) with daughters Kathryn (25) and Michaela (10) and their nephew Bradley (19) came second in the race.
The storm hit a day into the race. The swells were massive, the wind strong enough to rip your sail. The Ciao Bella struggled in churning seas which changed direction. Brennan and Ricky, the most experienced yachtsmen held the helm for hours on end. The rest supported them, changing sails at a moment’s notice and sliding on deck in the sleeting rain.
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“It was a heavy night. It was the beginning of the race and some of us were predictably seasick. Everyone had a bit of a wobble except for my wife, Gill. When the weather got tough she was the only one standing and she took over the cabin. She made sure people got hot chocolate and that everyone’s harnesses and clothes were ready for the changes in shifts,” says Mike.
The Robinson’s sailed through the eye of the storm and launched out the other end with the wind at their backs, taking a commanding lead. They were exhausted and decided to take a 12-hour rest. The decision, says Mike, ultimately cost them the race.
“We were well out in the front, ahead of the other boats. If we had kept with it we would have had a strong wind all the way to Rio,” he says.
Other boats were not as lucky. The yacht Bille, registered from Angola, reported that their crew member, António João Bartolomeu, died and two other crew members were injured. Mike first heard of the news during a live radio interview.
“We were blissfully unaware of the drama. It was a rough ride but we managed it well. It was the Wednesday after the race began. I fumbled through the interview. It turned out it was a storm of massive proportions, the likes seen in the serious sea races, not the Cape to Rio,” he says.
South Africa’s National Sea Rescue Institution (NSRI) reported eight-meter swells and 60-knot gale force winds. Three boats were towed back to Cape Town. The Black Cat reported being set adrift after losing its rudder; Isla took on water in the engine compartment and had an electrical fire; and on the AVA, two of their four crew members were injured and activated their emergency satellite beacon. According to Mike, a third of the fleet had been forced to retire.
“It was no longer a family get-together to sail. This was something unfathomable. Usually when you get to Rio there is incredible comradery. This time, there was the sense that there was one person who should have made it, but didn’t,” he says.
It took the Robinsons 21 days to travel 5,500 kilometers. It was almost twice the length of time the professional 10-man Maserati took to take the line honors, in 11 days. Still, Mike was happy to place fifth overall, the second South African boat to arrive in Rio.
“We were competing against boats that had more carbon than a coal mine,” says Mike, referring to the newer models made of carbon graphite which are lighter and faster than the Ciao Bella’s fiberglass hull.
“The first three boats were made of full-time racing outfits. We’ve got only one world champion racer and he’s 17 (Ryan). We traveled from Cape Town to the oil fields of Rio just on the power of the wind… We did all this with seven people on a 35-foot yacht, one of the smallest in the fleet. That’s amazing,” says son Ricky, now 26 years old.
Unlike their first adventure, the Robinsons were unusually disaster free, says Mike. In the 2011 Cape to Rio, their engine failed leaving them without fresh water. They also sailed the whole way with a cracked rudder.
The family’s life on board is littered with unusual moments. Flying fish smack people on deck and dolphins swim in their wake. Mike says there is nothing more majestic than an albatross in the trade winds. He also cannot forget the beauty of the Atlantic Ocean.
“There is not a color that can describe it. We think it’s a regal blue; as far as the eye can see and deep into the depths. It’s all encompassing. The wave movement becomes regular. Life becomes this rhythm. You cook to a rhythm, you sleep to it. When the sun sets the sea becomes velvet and the Milky Way goes from the left side of the horizon to the right. Behind you, the moon rises on a silver pathway,” he says.
It’s here, thousands of miles from land, where the race begins in earnest in the trade winds. At the helm Ricky, Brennan and Ryan compete to see who can go the fastest and the furthest in two-hour shifts. The smell of pancakes and bacon floats onto the deck. Katheryn and Michaela sing bad parodies and the brothers argue about philosophy during their 3AM shifts.
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“I spent an entire night with Ricky and I don’t think we said more than two words to each other. We just experienced the moment in each other’s company,” says Mike.
As the weather warms up closer to Rio, the Robinson’s rations thin. The first to go are zoo biscuits, valued higher than gold, until a bout of foul weather reveals a stash, hidden in the rain jackets.
“Brennan was the most likely candidate, it was his jacket. But Ryan had also been using it. Michaela is known for hoarding her sweets so it could have been her. We just didn’t know,” says Mike.
The debate raged into the night. Accusations flew across the rocking yacht. The family posted a blog asking for help to solve the crime. In response, the other yachts, instead of helping to solve the mystery, tried to barter for the treats.
“Zoo biscuits are a precious commodity on the ocean. Sure, Oreos and ginger snaps are fine. But Zoo biscuits are lapped up, especially on the Ciao Bella. We got offers of fish in exchange. But no fish is worth a Zoo biscuit, no matter how fresh,” says Mike.
The journey ends at Rio, surrounded by huge volcanic cliffs clustered with mansions. The statue, Christ the Redeemer, stands out on the horizon. It might not have been the first place prize for the Robinsons but their trip was a family vacation like no other.

Fish? Not Worth A Biscuit

I arrived on the main Seychelles island of Mahe in the middle of the night, uncomfortable and annoyed. It was just a four and half hour flight from Johannesburg, but I spent most of the day at OR Tambo International Airport as my flight was delayed for several hours. All, however, was forgotten by sunrise, as I woke up to the amazing natural beauty of the island. Seychelles is an archipelago of 115 islands, but the majority of them are home only to the abundant bird life. The islands are clean, the people are friendly and the beaches are sublime. The sand feels like you are walking in a bag of flour. The water is cool and clear and the waves are soft and subtle, even at high tide.
If you manage to pull yourself away from the beach, walking through the streets is relaxed and safe and you are surrounded by lush green-covered mountains. The islands are largely underdeveloped. Coming from the fast-paced, traffic-crazy Johannesburg; it is just what was needed, as you are forced into a state of relaxation.
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My trip began in Victoria, the economic hub and capital of Seychelles. Despite being the most populated of all the islands, I found myself completely surrounded by nature. A walk up to the Morne Seychellois National Park is most rewarding. The park is at the top of Mahe’s tallest peak, which at over 900 meters high, provides magnificent views. Back on lower ground, I enjoyed a tour of the famous Takamaka Rum Distillery at La Plaine St Andre followed by a short history lesson on sugarcane juice as they call it, the production process, and the different flavors of island rums.
The next best thing to do in the Seychelles is eat. The food is mostly Creole-style, spicy curries and grills. Some restaurants even serve bat curry—I am told it tastes like chicken. The dish is made in only a few upmarket restaurants as a delicacy. Shark chutney also peaked my interest. I was horrified, until I learnt that sharks are not caught for consumption but are used when they get mistakenly caught in fishing nets.
The islands make for the perfect beach holiday but you need to have deep pockets. The Seychelles rupee is at almost 1:1 to the South African rand, but very weak. Basic items cost four times what you would pay in South Africa. Agriculture is minimal as there is very little land space and the population is a mere 86,000, making manufacturing a non-industry. As a result, everything is imported. The Seychelles has a multi-party democracy with a socialist government. The locals have free access to health and education and because tourism makes up 70% of the economy, Seychellois pay reduced prices on most services. A local pays almost a quarter of the price that a tourist pays for a ferry ride from one island to another.
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Traveling between the islands by ferry and a ride to the main tourist island of Praslin is a must. It boasts several beaches that consistently win accolades. The Anse Lazio beach took top honors in the 2012 World Travel Awards and was also listed as one of the 25 most beautiful beaches in the world in 2013 by travel website, Trip Advisor. Seychelles enjoys summer all year round making the beaches accessible at any time. Apart from lying around the beach, one can venture out to sea for a bit of snorkeling. The crystal clear water makes the experience memorable, more so if you find yourself swimming next to a yellow turtle. The islands have the world’s largest population of hawksbill turtles. The nation is also famous for its giant tortoises which can be found roaming around freely on certain beaches. Most of the species cannot be found in other parts of the world because of rapid urbanization.
A walk through the famous Vallee de Mai nature reserve must be comparable to walking through the Garden of Eden. Long towering palms with giant leaves hover above, with rare bird species creating an almost scary jungle experience. If you are lucky you might catch a glimpse of the endangered black parrot, but you will have to rely on your memory for that experience as no cameras are allowed in the forest. You also cannot miss the fascinating Coco de Mer plants which resemble male and female genitals.
The quaint island of La Digue has small narrow roads that are cut through lush forests. No cars are allowed, except for the few that belong to tour companies, and riding a bicycle is the main mode of transport. I spotted a few brave tourists attempting to hike to the statue of St Mary on the tip of the island.
The Seychelles is a tourist haven and a major source of income to the country. But, for years only the Europeans could afford it. Italians, Germans and the French are the most frequent visitors. When Europe went into recession in 2009, the Seychelles followed. The tiny country received a loan from the IMF to revive the economy, and the focus has since changed. Seychelles is now turning to Africa.
The government is working on creating partnerships to attract foreign investment from the continent and to lessen its heavy dependence on tourism. Eden Island boasts luxury villas for the uber-rich, ranging between $425,000 and $2.2 million. Over 40% of these are owned by South Africans.
Across the bridge in Mahe, Seychellois live in modest homes. There are no big shopping malls and fast food outlets at every corner. The locals are simple, caring and community orientated. They admit they do not care for lavish lifestyles, but they do care for each other.
“The one thing about Seychelles, no-one dies hungry and no-one dies alone,” says Elsie Sinon, a tour guide with the Seychelles Tourism Board.
The fishing industry contributes 30% of the revenue to the economy. The government wants foreign investment to double the fishing industry’s contribution to GDP. So far, only India has recently invested in a tuna factory on the main island of Mahe. With more ocean than land, Seychelles is not only looking for more fish but for oil too. Earlier this year, the government opened official bids for oil exploration. Two companies, one from London and another from Australia, grabbed the opportunity and have already conducted preliminary studies which found that there is in fact a fortune lying beneath the sea bed.
The thought of oil drilling in a country that depends on fishing, beautiful beaches and deep sea coral for tourism, is slightly alarming. But it seems the research has been done and the risks are being well managed.
“We understand the risk, a government department has been set up to specifically manage the oil exploration and the environmental impact assessments show little risk to the natural habitat,” says the country’s finance minister Pierre Laporte.
It will be an absolute shame if the natural environment is devastated. Unlike most island destinations, the Seychelles is largely untouched. The beaches are pristine and not very populated. What a treat to have a little piece of an island all to yourself.

White Sands,  Shark Chutney And Spice

It is harrowing watching a crane move a two ton yacht onto a truck. Ropes crack under the strain. You imagine the fibreglass hull will shatter at any moment. Professionals may struggle with the job, so consider a family of seven with their thirteen-year-old daughter, Michaela, driving the crane. This feat of engineering is the first step of a Robinson family holiday that most would find hard to imagine.
“It’s been impossible to get her out of the driving seat; at least if she doesn’t make it as a sailor she can always work the crane,” says father Mike Robinson.
The Robinsons are as much a crew as a family. For them a Christmas holiday is a month ploughing through the cold ocean, ducking under flying fish, gawking at glowing dolphins and watching out for floating containers as deadly as icebergs. All this in a 35-foot yacht, that cost them $24,000 to repair as well as a case of beer for the charter fee, on Africa’s most famous sea voyage, the Cape to Rio.
Once every three years, yachts of all shapes and sizes take to the high seas in a bid for glory. It is a downwind race stretching 5,500 kilometers from Cape Town in South Africa to Rio de Janeiro in Brazil.
“It’s not hard to find South America. You just go toward the setting sun,” jokes Mike.
It may seem unlikely but the Robinsons have a good chance of winning. In 2011, Mike and his wife Gill, sons Ricky, Brennan, and Ryan with daughters Kathryn and Michaela and their nephew Bradley came second on board the Ciao Bella, the smallest yacht in the competition.
What’s more, the Robinsons managed to sail all the way with a hole in their rudder after they collided with a submerged container. They say the greatest danger comes lurking, sinister as a snake, under the surface. The Robinsons were lucky, floating containers could easily rip a hole in your hull, says Mike.
“They fall off the tops of those huge charter ships, and you will never see them. They float just under the surface,” says Brennan.
While swimming, the Robinsons found their rudder was missing a large chunk. Ricky believes it started as a hairline crack that opened after traveling for a few days at high speed on the sea. You could say it took a knock to their chances of winning.
“All the hotshot sailors from the Cape were saying we were just a family from Carletonville, from the Vaal, that we knew nothing about ocean racing,” says Michaela.
Their critics were wrong. The Robinsons had trained together for years. The family grew up with the wind in their face and a rope in their hand. Brennan, Ricky and Michaela have all sailed for South Africa. The Robinson’s garage holds testament to this, it is a boneyard of boats, masts and sails. The cars are parked under a tree.
The Ciao Bella lies in their backyard in Carletonville, a small mining town that is a two-hour drive from Johannesburg and hundreds of miles from the ocean. The yacht is on its way to the sea, to race in the Cape to Rio, once again. This time round they are aiming to win it, with a new rudder designed and made by Brennan, an engineer student at the University of Witwatersrand.
It is a different world far out on the Atlantic Ocean. One night, outside of Cape Town, there was a glowing phosphorous light on the surface of the sea attracting life.
“In the wake of the yacht you have this bright light. Dolphins jumped out the water, it makes them look like glowing torpedoes. You can’t see the dolphins, you just see this glow,” says Brennan.
“Every time they hit a shoal of fish it would sound like fireworks as the fish scattered,” says Kathryn.
It is not always plain sailing. The Robinsons were halfway, 10 days out of Rio. They were moving along in the trade winds. All was well, when their engine failed. Somehow there was water in the diesel.
“We still don’t know if it was the cheapskate who we got the diesel from or if it was a pipe in the engine. It was dead,” says Mike.
“A yacht uses the wind to move, but uses an engine to survive,” says Mike.
Without it you cannot charge your GPS or purify water.
“When your engine fails, it’s the scariest moment on the Atlantic,” says Gill.
The family did an inventory of their available water; it was running low. They went into emergency rationing and experienced 24 hours without water.
“It was looking pretty bleak,” says Mike.
Luck and ingenuity saw them through. As the sun began to rise, a rare squall blew over the yacht.  Mike woke up to see his children using the yacht’s sail and every bucket they could find to store rain. They collected 80 liters of fresh clean water, which was the exact amount needed to get them to the Brazilian coast.
“What was really cool was that we could see another boat next to us, and they didn’t get any rain. It was just us,” says Michaela.
They managed to fix the engine a few days later, the danger had passed. And to boot they had some extra water for a rare bath.
Then there is the bombardment of flying fish.
“They are like phantoms, they’ll get caught in places you don’t want them and there is just a smell on the deck. They’ll rot for two days and you’ll think oh my word where is that smell coming from. You have to dig them out from all the holes they’ve crept into,” says Ricky.
The ultimate irony was that the family had tailed a line across 5,500 kilometers, hoping to catch a real fish, without getting a single bite.
The Cape to Rio starts off at a chase. Strong south-easters blow the ships off the coast of Cape Town. It is a judgment call where to pick up the calmer trade winds in the heart of the Atlantic. Finally you reach the most difficult phase of the trip, the South American coast.
“Everyone calls it the Parking Lot; you come to a complete stop, with the mountains of Rio just in front of you and the oil rigs around you. You have to be careful because there is a strong current and you end up going backyards. It gets tense on these last couple of days, when you are in the doldrums with no wind. It’s hot and you are trying to keep the boat moving,” says Gill.
The Robinsons were racing against teams who had the latest navigation systems, linked permanently to satellites and day-to-day weather forecasts. All the family had was a small yellow GPS phone called Homer, only useful for pinpointing your position. Instead, they relied on ship routes dating back to 1800s. Most of their opposition ended up being stranded in the Atlantic without wind, whereas the historical route, proven by hundreds of years sailing, was longer but more reliable.
“You will find the family transfers information between each other. I’m at best a journey man, we’ve taught them as best as we know. It goes full circle. The process of going across the Atlantic has got this potential to transfer this huge amount of knowledge. Our children are now teaching us, so when Brennan says this sail needs to be enveloped, we can’t let anybody know we don’t know what he’s talking about,” says Mike.
What started out as a family holiday, on a yacht that needed $24,000 to repair and a case of beer, has now become a family obsession. If you were to sit next to the Robinsons in a restaurant you would not think that they were contenders for a coveted gold medal. But don’t go telling them that, they don’t like losing. Coming second to a team from Cape Town last time was one place too far behind as far as they are concerned. So they plan to spend another 20 days cramped together fighting off flying fish and floating containers. All the while their eyes will be focused on the horizon and the setting sun.

The Yacht Family Robinson

“WHEN ALIVE, HE LIVED,” reads the memorial to FORBES’ late editor-inchief, Malcolm Forbes, on a palmshaded lawn overlooking his beloved, green-as-money Laucala Island, a 3,000-acre shoe-shaped Valhalla in the eastern Fijian islands. Since 2003 Austrian tycoon Dietrich Mateschitz, who owns the wildly profitable energy drink Red Bull, has lorded over this isolated paradise, and now he’s opened it up to people who want a taste of billionaire life.
<div id="attachment_355" style="width: 484px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-355" class="size-large wp-image-355" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/FO011612_036-1024x469.jpg" alt="" width="474" height="217" />Take traditional Fijian architecture (timber beams supporting sea grass roofs), sprinkle with 38 pools and a dozen beaches, and add magnificent South Pacific views.</div>
Mateschitz built 25 sprawling guest villas in traditional Fijian style, with timber beams tied together to support sea grass roofs. Their connected pavilions—bedroom, bathroom and living room—encircle private pools facing the beach. I kept my sliding doors open to let the sea lull me to sleep, though civilization was close at hand with Wi-Fi and satellite TV. A light switch turned on a dozen tiki lamps, converting the place into a one-man luau.
You could easily hole up in your compound and have everything brought to you, and you might not encounter anyone even if you went out for a swim. The island has a dozen beaches and 38 pools that blend into the tropical surroundings while delivering distinctive wow factors. My favorite was a clear glass cube discreetly jutting above the beachfront like an aerial aquatic sculpture.
Serving the privileged few—this must be the world’s highest staff-to-guest ratio—are an astounding 350 uniformed attendants with an arsenal of high-powered toys from Jet Skis to shotguns. There’s a fully stocked golf pro shop on the edge of David McLay Kidd’s immaculate 18-hole Scottish carpet carved through Laucala’s dense jungles.
“This bewilderment of choices on such a small island—it’s like the Swiss Army Knife of vacation spots,” a guest told manager Maja Kilgore, who, with her husband, Thomas, runs the place with a panache that makes Fantasy Island’s Mr. Roarke seem like a slacker. “Then we must make sure to make good use of the corkscrew,” she responded, opening the umpteenth bottle from the island’s bountiful cellar to serve with yet another feast in one of its five restaurants.
<div id="attachment_354" style="width: 484px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-354" class="size-large wp-image-354" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/FO011612_035-1024x576.jpg" alt="" width="474" height="267" />The result: luxe, Laucala-style.</div>
At 6 a.m. the day after we’d arrived, a jet-lagged friend and I decided to circumnavigate Laucala on the brand-new mountain bikes parked outside our villas. We pulled up to the gleaming white, formal Plantation House restaurant and knocked gingerly, wondering if anyone would be up at this hour. We were whisked inside like long-lost relatives, white tablecloths were laid, and a gorgeous array of local fruit appeared, along with—gasp!—just-baked croissants whose crispness I’d have trouble matching in Paris. “We have two bakers from Germany who get up early every morning in case someone drops by,” our waitress explained.
<div id="attachment_356" style="width: 484px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-356" class="size-large wp-image-356" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/FO011612_037-1024x474.jpg" alt="" width="474" height="219" />$3,800-$35,000 per day, includes all food, drinks and activities. 011-679-888-0077, laucala.com.</div>
That breakfast encapsulates Laucala’s greatest luxury: spontaneity. Like tropical genies, the staff stays mostly invisible until you give voice to your whims. Then things happen very quickly and very well. On a single day I managed to ride a horse, grab a round of golf with resident PGA-circuit pro Tony Christie, get reinvigorated with a better-than-in-Thailand Thai massage, and water-ski around the island—with just a few minutes’ notice between adventures. By the time I’d toweled down for a late-afternoon scuba dive (thank God for the Red Bull in the minibar), magic hands had already equipped the dive boat with gear in my size and sushi to eat when I bubbled back up from the Technicolor reefs.

Tag: Holiday

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