A Thrilling Adventure Crossing the Gulf of Guinea
Taking a risky boat ride from the fishing village of Oron in Nigeria to the beach town of Wovia in Cameroon
It felt as though my life force had been sucked out of me when I arrived in Wovia, Cameroon. My body was like a vacant, disoriented, shell. I’ve never had a more eventful trip.
Travelling on the rough sea in an overloaded boat from Ibaka to Limbe is not for the faint-hearted. It’s an adrenaline-packed journey on the Gulf of Guinea.
The Gulf of Guinea is a vast body of water that extends along the coast of West Africa and is well known for its unpredictable weather patterns and rough waters. Riding a boat on this terrain is not as straightforward as you might think because it’s a thrilling and risky business commuting this few nautical miles.
For me, reaching the town of Limbe in Cameroon was a 3-day journey that started with a road trip from Lagos to Uyo.
Lagos to Uyo
Between the euphoria and excitement of a forthcoming trip, I was overwhelmed with anxiety about what lay ahead, what may happen along the road, and whether or not I would survive, given the level of instability in the nation and the route I was taking.
Plus, I had never travelled that far east before. So I had no idea what to expect, where to stay, or when I would arrive in Uyo.
Tuesday morning came, and I boarded the cross-country bus to Uyo. The journey was quick and somewhat interesting. As soon as got to Onitsha around 4 pm, while we were in the traffic, we witnessed a Sienna car beside us and its occupants being robbed. Regardless, every other car in the traffic kept to itself.
Our driver raised his speed as we approached the notoriously dangerous area called Orlu in Imo state, and so did other travelling vehicles. When we knew the worst was over, we continued to move at the usual pace.
We arrived at Uyo Motor Park at about 11 p.m. A nice man on a Tricyle came up to me and offered to drive me to a hotel where I could stay for ₦5,000 per night.
Exhausted, I passed the night at the hotel he recommended. The next morning, I called Christopher, the gentleman who had assisted me the previous night, to come and take me to the park where I would get a vehicle to Oron. From the park, I took a cab from Uyo to Oron cost ₦1,000 and off we went.
Getting my Passport Stamped at Oron
I got to Oron and took a bike to the beach where I would cross to Cameroon. I got there and went to the Nigerian Immigration office to stamp my passport. After taking my Biometrics, an elderly officer in charge of stamp demanded ₦5,000 from me. “For what sir”, I politely enquired. He asked if I knew I was supposed to pay for a stamp, I admitted to him that I had no idea because I had assumed that my leaving my country legally was free, and the only sum I could spare him was ₦1,000.
At first, he rejected my offer, so I asked the customary tricky question I do pose to immigration officials: Will my unwillingness to pay the money he had demanded prevent me from getting my passport stamped? That would enable me to know my next course of action.
He said, “I didn’t say so,” he answered. What’s going to happen, then? I continued, “I just have ₦1,000”. Already, the boat coordinator who had approached me earlier and was waiting for me to complete my documentation started to grow impatient, so I assured them they could leave without me, and I would find another boat.
After stamping my passport, the immigration officer advised me to always keep cash on hand for them because they require the money. The officer ended up stamping my passport but advised me to always hold something (cash) for immigration officers because they needed the funds to cover their office’s expenses.
Unfortunately, the boat that left without me was the last boat for the day, and the time was past 1 p.m. I had to call Christopher and tell him my current predicament, and he directed me on how to get to another jetty in Ibaka called Deep Sea Port. It did cost me about ₦900 to transport myself from the jetty where I stamped.
I left the jetty and took a bike to the intersection where I needed to get on a vehicle travelling to Ibaka.
Getting to Ibaka to Board a Boat to Cameroon
The journey took us almost 45 minutes, and as our car approached Ibaka, I continuously noticed young lads rolling barrels on the roads. I asked the driver why they were rolling the barrels, and explained that it was used to smuggle fuel across the border. The barrels are being rolled by the guys to the location where they will be filled and then transported back to the jetty and smuggled to Cameroon.
When I arrived at the fishing town of Ibaka, the ambience was a mix of chaos and environmental degradation. The route was congested with fish dealers attempting to carry their wares, bikes and automobiles parked on the winding lanes and loading fish, and barrel boys trying to roll the fuel-filled barrels to the seaport in the sweltering midday sun.
To navigate the confusion, cars honk here and there to cut through the backed-up traffic.
I exited the vehicle and walked through a corridor to get to the port. The scene was both lovely and filthy. Numerous fishing vessels queued up with various African flags. Some were moving across the water, with drumming and singing. They were on their way back from a successful fishing expedition.
Once I was done feeding my curiosity, I approached the boat operators that I was going to Cameroon that day. They asked where in Cameroon I was headed, between Idenau and Limbe. I inquired from them which of the ports I would get my passport stamped. There seemed to be confusion as they were all arguing with each other due to not being sure of where to stamp. The majority of them told me immigration offices have stopped stamping at Idenau and I had to get to Wovia, in Limbe, then take a bike to the port at Botaland to get stamped.
Eventually, I settled for Limbe and I was told the price was ₦25,000. All efforts to negotiate to a lesser price fell on deaf ears. However, before I paid, I was assured the boat would travel that day, so I went ahead and made the payment. I was told to sit with other passengers on the bench facing the sea while we waited for the boat to get filled.
By 5 p.m, we were told the boat could no longer travel because of the change in tides, and the sea was not pliable for that day anymore. Although the Gulf of Guinea is susceptible to weather changes, the slightest shift in wind or rain can cause boat travel to be postponed or cancelled.
Most of us became annoyed with him because we felt he had cajoled us into making payments, with the knowledge we wouldn’t be travelling that day. Also, we felt he delayed the boat till the next day because he wanted to get more passengers. This meant that passengers who had paid the fare would have to spend the night at Ibaka. This was another hole burnt in my pocket as I did not plan to spend extra cash on hotels.
Out of remorse, he took us to an affordable hotel where we could pass the night, and he assured us we would travel the next morning. The hotel was ₦3,000 per night and a complete nightmare. It was stuffy without a fan or any form of ventilation, with dirty linens and bedspread. The whole floor was dirty and smelly, and I was scared I would leave the hotel the next morning filled with bugs (I know, what did I expect for that amount). I couldn’t sleep that night, nor wait for dawn to break so I could leave.
Hurriedly, I left the hotel the next morning and didn’t bother taking a shower after the boat coordinator came to knock at my door by 8 a.m., that we should come to the jetty as the boat was being loaded and preparing for departure.
It had rained all night, and it was still raining when the boat coordinator came to call us for departure. However, it wasn’t as heavy as it was during the night. We got to the port in the rain and we were directed to the boat.
While I was heading for the boat, I saw a young man putting some people’s names on the manifest, and I went to him for my documentation but he kept evading me, assuring me he would put my name later and I should go sit in the boat. I believed him.
The Wild Ride from Ibaka to Wovia, Limbe on the Rough Sea
The woes of my Journey began at Ibaka. Seated in the boat, I saw each passenger enter the boat with a floater. I was a bit alarmed when I saw this and consoled myself with the life jacket that would be distributed to us passengers. When I didn’t see any, I decided to take the bull by the horns by asking for a life jacket, and I was told I ought to have brought mine, and another option was for me to buy a floater for ₦2,000.
Unbelievable that each passenger was charged ₦25,000 for a 3–4 hour trip and no safety provision. Now, I became paranoid when I realized my name was not on the manifest yet, the boat was overloaded with cargo goods and we were placed 5 on each seat.
However, every passenger on the boat advised me to get a floater. I told them I could not purchase anything because I had no cash on me. Then they asked how I planned to settle the Nigerian officials on the sea or pay the Cameroonians at their jetty. I replied I didn’t need to pay anyone because I had my passport stamped. They all burst into laughter and started making jest of me.
They told me I better find the money I would give immigration officers before I depart because that’s how it’s done. Nobody cares whether I stamped my passport or not and there is nothing like legality right here. They warned me not to delay them at these checkpoints because if I did, they would allow the officials to take me in and leave me behind. They told me to hold at least ₦5,000 for the Nigerian officials and ₦10,000 for the Cameroonians to enter their country.
However, I was very much concerned about how much my people have been downtrodden and brainwashed by the system, that they now feel very comfortable with being cheated and exploited by those who are supposed to serve and protect them.
The Gulf of Guinea is the world’s hotspot for maritime piracy, and oil bunkering because the region accounts for more than 35% of the world’s total petroleum reserves. These officials exist to curtail these problems and protect legal activities on the water.
Nonetheless, I was advised by some of the passengers to let one of the port workers quickly help me get some money from the POS operators. I obliged and gave him my card and my pin. I told him if CFA was available, he should help withdraw ₦50,000 and if only naira was available, he should help withdraw ₦10,000.
He came back with the latter because of the unavailability of CFA. So, I settled him out of the money he brought back.
Now, it dawned on me that my name is not in the manifest, and I am beckoning the guy in charge of the manifest to please let me write my name. He told me the manifest was not with him but I should tell him my name so he would write it for me later.
I became alarmed and started accusing him of his plan to cover up my death because he knew something was up. Or why would he keep stalling me to write my name with an overloaded boat and no life jacket for safety? Besides, why is almost every passenger with a floater, is there a possibility of us drowning?
On hearing this, he gave me the booklet and pen to write my name and he would later transfer the names he had just written to the manifest. Before travelling, I only told a few people about my journey but I did not disclose to anyone exactly where I was at that time, and if anything happened, there was no tangible means of tracing how or where I went missing.
Now, I realize the boat is overloaded with goods and passengers. We were placed 5 on each seat as opposed to 4. The tons of load were already weighing on the boat and it became very low in the water, so they conducted a test ride before final departure. It took a while for the boat’s engine to roar to life after multiple trials before we went for a test ride.
The test ride was scary because the boat was really low and water was getting in. We did like 15 15-minute test ride on the sea and came back before they decided to offload some goods to lighten our boat. Still, it made no difference but I guess the money was much more important than the 17 lives aboard.
At this point, it is important to note that the boats used for transportation here are often not well-maintained, and safety regulations are always ignored. The speed boats are often used to smuggle fuel, and transport goods and passengers across the Gulf of Guinea to Idenau and Wovia.
The transporters most times will overload the boat with goods that belong to other merchants. The over-weighted boat coupled with the turbulent sea sometimes does result in a boat wreck.
Moreover, the water conditions in the Gulf of Guinea can be unpredictable, which makes the journey even riskier. Despite the risks, speed boat travels from Oron to Idenau and Wovia remain a popular venture for Nigerian and Cameroonian merchants.
That being said, the journey offers stunning views of the estuary and the surrounding mangrove forest and provides the opportunity to interact with locals who frequent the route.
Once they certified our overloaded boat for departure and the boat was spurred to life, It was clear that we were in for a wild ride on that cold rainy morning.
The rain, the seawater and the cold wind blasted against us as we took off.
Barely 20 minutes into the ride, the boat stopped and all efforts to restart it proved abortive. The boat began to sway while we waited, and some passengers began to murmur, while others complained and blamed the driver for transporting us with a faulty boat, and he should take us back if he could not get the boat to start so we could get a better boat. The two drivers paid deaf ears to the complaints and kept on trying and after 10 minutes, we were on our way again.
Not so long after we resumed our journey, we slowed down as we approached the Customs boat for protocol. However, it seemed more of a bribery protocol where everyone aboard had to pay their dues before leaving the shores of Nigeria. The first question they asked was if there was anyone with a passport. I responded that I had, and I was told to bring it out. They collected my passport while the other officers questioned the other passengers. The passengers were asked to pay 2,000 each, and without question, they all obliged. It seemed they were already used to the system.
I requested my passport as our boat was ready to leave but they told me to give them 1,000 before they could give back my passport. I gave them the money grudgingly feeling very bitter.
One of the passengers, a middle-aged man, with whom we had both stayed in the same hotel and had lunch together the previous day, was travelling with a young boy. The officials questioned him if he was the father. He told them he was a relative of the boy. He was requested to pay ₦5,000 for travelling with a child who isn’t his, and not having any document to prove he was not kidnapping a minor.
To say that I was mortified is an understatement. The authority on the water was more concerned about making money off the situation rather than confirming the authenticity of the story. The man gave them ₦5,000 which was requested and we were back our way.
The next stop was the Navy. They didn’t ask any questions, instead, the driver’s assistant went around and collected 1,000 from every one of us and gave the officials. The official who collected the money counted the money which was 15,000 and then proceeded to count the number of passengers on the boat for accuracy.
After our encounter with the Navy, we kept going and now, the sea had started getting rough. In the middle of navigating the choppy waters, we sighted the Nigerian Police boat and had to slow down.
Now, we approached the police boat which dwarfed ours, and we were asked to contribute ₦1000 each for the Police. By this time, we were already in the turbulent part of the water, our boat was very low due to being overloaded and was rocking violently from side to side and it hit the Police boat.
The Police showed no concern about this, and in the process, our boat struck theirs hard but fortunately, the water bottle I attached to my backpack which was placed at the front and was hanging loosely, took the hard hit and shattered. I had just purchased the bottle for ₦4000 at Minisou the day before my travel.
When this happened, they told us to hurry up and bring the money so we could leave the area soon. The assistant driver assisted in getting the money from everyone. When the policeman counted the money and the passengers, he noticed a payment was missing and asked who on the boat was yet to pay. A woman with a child identified as the person and claimed she had no more money.
The policeman then gave the boat driver ₦1,000, out of the contributed money, and they thanked each other before we left.
As we left the vicinity of Nigeria and our boat began to approach the Cameroon coast, the real adventure commenced.
I began to enjoy the stunning views of the coastline and the surrounding landscapes, the seat in front of me unhinged from its seat due to the impact of the water. The passengers in the overcrowded seat fell on the goods placed beneath their bench and we had to stop to fix the seat.
While trying to fix the seat, our very low boat started rocking violently again, and almost nose-dived into the sea as water almost filled our boat. This prompted the driver to act fast as immediately started the boat and fired on.
This time, the boat was going super fast because we were now in the deep sea, the water was very turbulent and dangerous, so had to move fast. Also, there was the fear of pirates as the Gulf of Guinea is known as their hotspot.
The driver had to navigate through the rough sea, strong winds, and unpredictable weather patterns to get us to Wovia safely.
Another time the seat was unhinged, the driver refused to stop and kept driving fast because we had approached where the water was known for really high tide and the notorious activities of Pirates.
As we sped on, we saw beautiful landscapes, the flaring of gas into the sky from oil rigs and Dolphins jumping out of the water about 200 metres away from us.
We passed between Mount Cameroon, the highest mountain in Central Africa, Debundscha and the Pico Basile on the Equatorial Guinea Island of Bioko. These two locations rank 5th and 6th in the world for being the wettest places.
Though we were riding at a high speed, the water was rough and bumpy and I had to hold on to the side of the boat for balance. The seawater was also getting into the boat and splashing on every one of us and we got drenched. Each bump we encountered began to affect me at this point. It felt like every organ taking the impact. Gradually, I was becoming nauseous.
We got to the last but very important part of the trip near Idenau port which was well known for its high ocean current. Many boats have capsized in this region. This area was where our boat stopped, and the engine refused to start.
It was either we get the boat started and move fast or we stay in a position. There was no room for slowing down in order not to capsize the boat.
At this point, every passenger started panicking. An elderly woman sitting behind me, who had been scared on the ride started crying profusely. She burst into Christian songs and started praying in her language, Igbo. Everyone on the boat kept assuring her nothing terrible was going to happen.
In the process of waiting, I became increasingly nauseous after 10 minutes due to the incessant rocking of our boat on the rough waves. The boat had stopped and refused to start.
I was dizzy and started throwing up while holding on to the side of the boat as it rocked. The world was spinning and I had to put my head down and cover my face with a scarf to avoid seeing the rocking, maybe it would help.
Where our boat stopped was about 40 minutes away from Wovia. Our driver had to call the port to come to rescue us.
Two rescue boats without seats came, and the passengers were moved into one of the boats, while the other boat towed our faulty boat with our luggage.
I waited till everyone had moved into the new boat before I joined because I was already super dizzy by now and couldn’t afford to be clumsy, for the fear I might fall into the sea.
Without thinking, I went to the boat opting for the next available space which was at the front left side on the floor of the boat. That move was the biggest mistake I made on the journey because my spine suffered, and so did my stomach and my organs from the impact of the boat on the troubled waters. I started throwing up more, and the boat had to pause for me to throw up into the sea.
This time, we took off without stopping till we got to Wovia. The sea was rough, and the boat bounced up and down as we hit each wave. I clung tightly to the side of the boat and tried to maintain my balance as I felt every impact. I suffered and endured the rest of the journey feeling weak, nauseous and in pain till we got to Wovia.
As we approached Wovia, the coastline of Cameroon came into view.
The town was nestled in a small bay, and we pulled up to the shore. It was a relief to finally be off the boat, and feel the solid ground beneath my feet. I breathed a sigh of gratitude as I sat on the pavement by the shores, taking in the beautiful landscapes and scenic stones and tiny Islands on the sea.
Still, I felt sick and weak while I waited for our boat to bring my backpack.
I took a picture of myself to see my countenance and how what I had gone through was expressed on my face.
At the beach, the community men in charge of the jetty demanded 10,000 from Nigerians as the landing fee. Without the fee, you can’t be allowed into the country. I gave them what was left with me and told them that was all I had, and that I needed to stamp my passport. The man who had collected money from me told me to follow him and he took me to the general in charge of the beach. The name of the general was Sammy, and he made some calls in trying to help me get stamped into the country, but all efforts that evening proved futile because the Cameroonian border was closed due to the Ambazonian crises in the country.
Right at that moment, I wasn’t much bothered about stamping my passport, I just wanted a place to rest and sleep, and plan on sorting out my issue the next day.
Sammy, the guy in charge of the beach drove me to a hotel he recommended and told me it was close to the sea, and at night, I had a view of the Spanish Island of Equatorial Guinea, Malabo.
It was a very neat motel and the room had a chair and table I could use to work, a fan, and a window that faced the ocean, Malabo, and the refinery at Sonara.
I dropped my bag in the wardrobe and crashed on the bed after assuring concerned friends that I was safe and okay after taking a risky ride.
Ibaka to Limbe is an unforgettable adventure but it’s not without its own risk. It requires courage, resilience, and a sense of adventure.
For those who are willing to step outside their comfort zone and experience something truly unique and risky, it is an experience that will stay with you for a lifetime. So, you must be aware of the potential dangers associated with this type of travel and take necessary precautions to ensure a safe journey. Though I can’t guarantee you it will be an enjoyable experience.
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