the Fast Ferry
Jeff October 31st, 2007
Due to not being able to get the shipment out of customs last weekend, we found ourselves with some free time and decided to go over to Zanzibar to check it out. We missed the first ‘Fast Ferry’ (it is actually called Fast Ferry and is in fact quite fast; it takes 2 hours vs some ferries that take 3-8) due to our mis calculation that checking out of the hotel wouldnt take too long (45 minutes) so we jumped in a taxi and headed down to the port to see what we could find.
Getting out of the taxi, we immediately had about 15 guys rush over, imploring us to go to their ferry’s booth for the trip over. We fought our way to the fast ferry counter to see when the next one left and it wasn’t until about one so we listened to a couple guys that said they had a fast ferry that was leaving at 11 (it was 10:55) but we had to go now. So we rushed over to their booth, paid, and then heeding their yells to run faster, hustled through a couple security checkpoints and past some really dodgy looking buildings to end up at the port.
The boat they were running towards certainly did not look fast; it was essentially a barge that had an area for passengers and the end which was crammed full of people. Me, being the rookie to Africa and not being used to being taken advantage of, saw the plank that was extended towards the boat, estimated that it was about a three foot jump from the plank up onto the boat and started to run for it.
I don’t know what stopped me. Maybe it was my conscience, maybe it was me being out of shape or maybe it finally registered that this may not be the fast ferry after all. So I came to a screeching halt on the plank and had a look around. Noticing that Greg and Liz, the experienced traveler’s, were not on the plank but were in fact gazing at the boat with a ‘we’ve been had’ expression on their face, I exited the plank amidst lots of shouting in Swahili to watch the barge eeeaaassseee away from the dock. After watching it for 30 seconds it became painfully obvoious that yes we were in fact given the run around.
Liz is an absolute lifesaver as she can speak Swahili and was able to tell the guys that sold us the ticket to give us tickets to the proper ferry. So after a short jog, some excitement by the pier, and a little cajoling with the local ticket salesmen, we found ourself on the Flying Horse heading across to Zanzibar. (Dont let the name kid you; it wasn’t too fast either.) 
