Wednesday morning finds us in the BirdLife offices, when the phone goes. It is Barrie Rose. I can go, but I must let I&J review all my photos before I leave the country. I agree, put the phone down, and whoop for joy! We are finally going, and soon. Our vessel, the Aloe, departs this afternoon.
It's 4 pm, and Barry and I are walking the rusty gangplank onto the ship. The Aloe is a 53-metre long Protea-class stern trawler, built in Durban in 1973, old but more stable than the modern vessels, Barry assures me!
We clamber across the gear piled high, avoiding the crew as they busily load crates, ice, and provisions. We stow our kit in our cabin (we're lucky, we've been given our own small room rather than sharing with the crew) and climb from below decks the three sets of stairs to the wheelhouse.
Barry introduces me to our captain, Randy, short, bald, toothless and, I soon learn, proud father of five children, all of whom have gone through university. The whole crew, including Randy, are black - an illustration both that the black majority still do most of the lowest and hardest manual jobs, and that some are now highly-qualified and holding professional positions in the new South Africa.
Barry gives me some quick instructions: stay out of the wheelhouse and off the deck when the nets are being hauled or shot; keep well clear of all the winch machinery; and always hold on with both hands ('one for the ship, one for you'). We head back ashore for some last minute provisions.
At about 7 pm, the engine noise increases, and I head on deck to find us heading out of Cape Town harbour. I'm extremely nervous - I've never been on a boat for more than five hours before, and we are going to be out in the roughest oceans in the world for seven days! It'll be a test of my - to date - reliable sea-legs (I've been on the Scillonian in some pretty rough weather), and there's no going back, no way off.
As we head out, the searing heat of the city dissipates rapidly as the sea breezes take hold. A mile out, with Robben Island (Nelson Mandela's prison for 25 years) at our bow, we turn south, and head for Cape Point.
We are already picking up birds - at first Hartlaub's and cape gulls, then cape gannets and terns, then we sail through a flock of 1,400 Sabine's gulls! As dusk approaches, with the lights of Cape Town shining brightly below a shadowy Table Mountain, we begin to see sooty shearwaters and Arctic skuas. Above the darkening horizon, the long misty tail of Comet McNaught can be clearly seen.