we made it....Fremantle to Langkawi, the final blog for 2012

Blogging off for 2012

Greetings dear reader and welcome to the final blog for 2012. At the moment, I am sitting down below on The Doc right under the aircon and comfortably nestled in the safe lagoon of Rebak Island resort and marina Langkawi. This is it folks, the end of the journey that started way back in Fremantle on a cloudy Tuesday evening in May as we motored out of Challenger Harbour en route to Darwin. What is more amazing is that after nearly five and half thousand miles of motor and sail we had to be towed the last mile and half into the marina. Outrageous I hear you say and I couldn’t agree more. We were anchored about 7 miles from the marina and after a swim and leisurely morning decided to make way to said marina around lunchtime. Pulled anchor, washed off copious mud, tidied up and engaged motor for a leisurely tonk to our berth in marina. A few minutes in (actually a little more than a few but I can’t bear to remember how long) I felt something was wrong. No overheating alarm but something smelt strange. I checked exhaust and you guessed it, smoke only. Off goes the motor, down goes the anchor and maintenance team switch in to action. Checked intake filter....clear, checked impeller....one and a half blades left out of 12....ummm not good. Changed impeller....still no water coming through. Tide still with us so we decide to sail as close as we can to marina a get a little tow in and sort it out later. Well the Doc seemed to pick up on the emergency and we tacked and tacked our way ever onwards and had the best sail we have had for a long time. The boys came out and tied up alongside and gently placed us in our berth with the added help of some cruising friends. No drama. Problem seems to be a non return valve off from the main sea water intake may have been sticking causing restricted water flow or it may have been barnacles in the filter housing. Certainly putting on the wrong impeller didn’t help. I grabbed the only one I had left at it was a key lock style that without a key just sat there as the motor turned the shaft. Anyway, all sorted now.

 



tied up in pen and contemplating the serenity...ahhh the serenity

 

 Rebak  Island being a resort, we have access to all resort facilities and that includes a lovely big pool, restaurants, gym and morning yoga sessions. December and January are the hottest months in Langkawi and  while we do get afternoon rain relief, the aircon is a life saver. We kept ours from the Darwin build up days and stow it under the table where it sits quietly awaiting its next mercy mission. Well, what a year it has been.

marina/resort shot



I suppose it all started back in March when we landed in Darwin and began the serious preparations for our sojourn through South East Asia. It was a mad time when I think back. We had major engine work done, a new cutless bearing fitted, a complete package of navigational and radar equipment fitted, massive provisioning to do, Motley the wonder cat to prepare with shots, vet checks etc and visas and medical arrangements to finalise. It seemed an endless list but by the morning of July 14^th when we pulled anchor outside Fanny Bay to sail to Timor Leste it was all done and we were ready for our SE Asian adventure. And, it has been a fantastic adventure. Dili, Aturo Island then down to Kupung and then along the top of Flores to Komodo and Rinca Islands, then across to Lombok and Bali, then up to Kumai on the bottom of Kalimantan, then across to Batam Island and into the Singapore Straits and then up the Malacca Straits to Malaysia and all the wonders of Penang, Pangkor, and finally here in Rebak Island Langkawi. WOW!!! Including our trip up the west coast from Fremantle to Darwin we have done over 5,500 nautical miles. Thank you Doc, thank you navigator extraordinaire (Diana) and thank you head of maintenance (me). Together we have done it and, I might add, done it bloody well.





Some thoughts on sailing Rallies.

We have been part of three rallies: The  Darwin -- Dili, The Sail Indonesia and the Sail Malaysia and, as always, there are pros and cons. One of the great things is you get to meet a whole range of new people who are all in the same boat and there will be no apology for that one. We all do battle with the vagaries of this cruising life:  weather, wind, currents, mechanical breakdowns and ........hopefully repairs . We all share each others’ concerns be they personal, medical and sometimes philosophical, help when we can or just lend a sympathetic ear over a beer and Nasi Goreng. Perhaps the biggest downside is the sailing to dates aspect of rallies. There is this tour on this date in this place followed by this tour on that date in this other place and proper cruising is not like that. I think it’s called rally fatigue and I noticed a few signs of it at various ports of call. Of course you don’t have to make any of the set functions and can come and go as you please but you pay your money and you kind of feel like getting something back for it, if you know what I mean. Would I do another rally? No. (was that too quick?) I suppose the main reason we chose to do the rallies was to help ease our way into a new part of the world, to fast track immigration procedures, and to have some backup if Motley ever became an issue. There is no real problem with checking in and not one official has even asked about the invisible cat. The functions can be fun, the tours  tortuous, especially when you get a 45 minute lunch stop at 3.45 in the afternoon and blood sugar levels have sunk to dangerously homicidal lows. Still, there’s always the visit to the Pineapple Museum to keep your excitement at fever pitch.



the mob off to view a waterfall in Langkawi

 

 Rally shirts are another plus and I have known some yachties who have built extra cupboards in cabins just to accommodate the steady flow. The rally meals have all been excellent and in most cases no expense spared. Anchorages can be crowded and this can lead to some friction and even minor outbreaks of international conflict. I think the best aspect is the quiet undercurrent of camaraderie that flows between us all. You hear it in the noisy banter on the tour bus, you hear it around the table in the Indian restaurant or the Hard Dock cafe here at Rebak and you get this sense that we all part of the same thing, that we are all family in a way and that’s a good feeling. But, would I be lining up to do it again....no thanks. Diana and I have always sailed on our own and enjoyed the unexpected, the unplanned and the spontaneous aspects of this cruising life. You tend to lose a part of this when you sail with 80 other boats.

So, a final word. Our favourite time has been sailing the north coast of Flores Island including Rinca and Komodo. The people are mostly poor but their kindness knows no bounds and their smiles are unforgettable. Malaysia is more developed, has better food and shopping but it is more western in attitude. I think my lasting memory will be of the father who paddled out to our boat early in the morning in an anchorage half way along Flores just to say farewell and left with a new pair of reading glasses. The look on his face was as if a new world had suddenly opened up before his very eyes. And that is exactly the feeling we have as we sit back and slowly ponder the last six months.

no caption required

We hope you have all enjoyed the blogs and it is nice to know you are out there somewhere in the world  sharing in our crazy life. Have a pleasant and peaceful Christmas everyone and we’ll be back on air sometime in January.

Love and best wishes Rob and Diana December 14^th 2012 Rebak Island Langkawi



signing off for 2012

Malacca

Malacca

At one time, so the guide book said, there were at least 80 different languages and dialects being spoken in and around the Port of Malacca or Melaka as is the local spelling. It’s placed right in the middle of the spice route between India and China and so sea traders from across the world would drop anchor to stretch their legs so to speak and then partake in whatever sea traders do in foreign ports far from home with a ship full of silver, tin, gold, spices, fine linen and the odd human slave.  Malacca is on the south west corner of the Malaysian peninsula and sits virtually at the cross road of the Singapore Straits and the famous Malacca Straits. Coming from India with the south west monsoon blowing you down-hill at a pleasant 10-15 knots it would be no effort to pull into Malacca for a quick reprovision and then push on to the Far East. Coming the other way you have the north east monsoon doing exactly the same but in the opposite direction. As they say.......too easy. So Malacca in her heyday would have been a gloriously exotic place to visit; a literal melting pot of race and religion and full of the colour and heady perfume of danger you associate with ports in the Far East.

the narrow street and rickshaws give it a distinct character

 

 Malacca today is not quite the swashbuckling Mecca it was in the past and it was sadly missing any Jonny Deep characters and the only ship that resembled the Black Pearl was a replica Portuguese square rigger painted a ghastly mission brown and stuck on concrete in the middle of town right next to the children’s fun park. Alas, the only danger came in the form of fat middle aged men who approached you on the street trying to organise your stay in Malacca based solely on their prearranged itinerary and, as it happens, with their car and driver at your disposal. No thanks pal, we’re just going to wander around and see what we find but thanks anyway. You’re wasting your time then, came his testy little reply, you should have stayed home and visited your children”. He might have had a point on that last comment but hey dude, let’s drop the attitude. He was the only nasty pirate we met and we can safely say the people of Malacca, despite the saturation of tourists were, as usual, friendly and polite.

the old fort of Santiago or what's left of it

So while Malacca of old was, for obvious reasons missing in action, there was still present a distinct feel and character to this place and it came to you as you wound your way down the narrow cobbled streets and over the small foot bridges that crossed the city canal or stared up at the crumbling facades with their Dutch, Chinese and Portuguese influences or sat in one of the many art/studio style coffee shops and  drank in the kind of bohemian other worldly atmosphere that filters through the town like the gentle waft of incense. It’s a cool place to visit. We only had two days and one night so narrowed our experience to just exploring around the hotel  ( and what a hotel, more later) and there was enough good shopping and eating in this square kilometre to keep you going for months.

inside The Baboon House, a very cool art/studio/gallery coffee shop with tasty beef burgers and cool iced lemon teas

 

 The tourist sites are limited to the aforementioned replica ship, a crumbling Portuguese fort, enough museums to lead you to early onset museum depression and the open air city tour bus trip that takes in the sites of the city. We did the latter and all we saw were hotels and the dirty facades of cheap apartment blocks. Sitting on the seat in front of us was a young Malaysian boy 7-8 yrs old (school holidays) and throughout the entire bus tour he was glued to his game boy thingy twitching and rolling knobs as some character went through a city slashing and mutilating anyone he saw. Maybe he was missing the old Malacca. The tragedy was that his father was sitting next to him, watching and doing nothing. It was some of the most violent images I have ever seen and I really had to reign in Mr Manning the school teacher before I grabbed the thing and through it into the canal thereby proving violence begets violence I suppose.

everyone having a wild time on the open air bus tour

 

Our hotel experience was wonderful and the best we have ever encountered. It was recommended by our good friends Dan and Elise and overall it was a lesson in how to offer excellent service in stylish and comfortable accommodation. We were met at the door with a glass of chilled water, our luggage taken to the room, a paper of my choice delivered to our room and a sumptuous breakfast thrown into the bargain. The room was a blend of Asian, Portuguese and contemporary styling and the bed was big and perfectly comfortable. The staff was superb and could not do enough to make you feel at home.  (240 rm...approx A$80 per night)

bathroom in hotel room

some interesting blends of styles in the decor

 

Our trip back to Port Dickson and the Admiral marina was a mixture of buses and taxis and went without a hitch. Public transport here is cheap and efficient. Our last leg into Port Dickson was on a local bus that was full even when we got on. The driver saw my walking stick and moved a young guy off his seat very quickly but poor Diana was left standing, but not for long. An elderly Indian woman seemed to become the bus seat controller and as people got off and seats became available she ushered this one here and that there. She had a mission to get Diana seated and when a seat became empty nearby she pushed Diana’s bag with her foot next to the seat to stop anyone claiming it and gestured for her to sit......sit....yesss....you sit there!! Again it was just fascinating to be part of this small and probably tedious routine for most of the passengers as they made their way home or over to a friend’s house for a sleep over. For us however, it was the fact that we part of another community if only for a short while and that we were accepted without rancour or discontent. It’s a feeling you get as you travel more and more, this sense of belonging to what is the global community of humanity and that is comforting to say the least.

water feature in dining room of hotel and a good way to close this blog with this artists shot (Diana) that captures some of the style and history of this town

And, what’s more, it was a very fitting way to say farewell to the city of Malacca, that port of many voices connected as it was through the simple human desire to trade. Cheers Rob  

NEVER LEAVE PORT ON A FRIDAY

NEVER LEAVE PORT ON A FRIDAY

Sailors have so many superstitions but until now we have chosen to ignore most of them. (We did go to some trouble for King Neptune crossing the equator.) We left Puteri Harbour Marina, Johor Bahru, on a Friday to start our journey north through the Malacca Strait, and we didn’t think anything of it. We’ve left port on a Friday countless times. It wasn’t until the following day that our luck turned against us. Perhaps it is cumulative.

We had spent a pleasant night at an island called Pulau Pisang, and we left early in the morning for an easy 46NM sail. First off things started to go wrong. As Rob was raising the anchor it leapt off its supporting frame and gouged a big divot into the hull. Rob has a great system that supposedly prevents this happening, but not today.

No sooner had we recovered from that little setback and boom, there was a large explosion! The bracket holding the solid stainless boom vang that runs from the base of the mast to the boom gave way, sending the large heavy rod crashing through the window of the dodger. Being safety glass it smashed with a huge bang, sending glass all over the deck, down the companionway and throughout the cockpit. Poor Motley was asleep under the dodger and faster than light she was right at the back of the boat. I looked back to see a little head peering over the lift raft, with eyes like saucers. It was lucky that she didn’t go one or two steps further and off the back of the boat. The bracket appeared to have been under stress for some time and it finally gave way due to some rather dodgy engineering.

That was only the start. The supposedly easy 46 miles turned into a torturous beat against a head wind and an adverse current which kicked up the seas into nasty steep 2 metre high waves. The boat pitched from bow to stern and from side to side making life on board very uncomfortable. For Motley it was definitely a “cupboard day”. We can define our days on whether it is a “cupboard day” or not. Motley will squeeze into her favourite hidey hole in the cupboard in the galley if the weather is inclement or something else is going on that she is not happy with. If she heads to the cupboard we know we are in for a bad day. This day Motty was in the cupboard all day. Room for one more?

Anyway we pounded through the waves and oncoming wind for hours. We considered stopping somewhere but the wind’s direction didn’t’ allow for any protected anchorage anywhere. Suddenly there is another crash! This time perhaps not so serious but I took it as a very bad omen. Our brass ship’s bell suddenly loosened itself and crashed down on the nav table, with a clang. It has been happily hanging there for years, but chose this day to let loose. Now I was really worried. What bad luck will come with the heart of the ship falling down like that? One piece of good luck was that normally we have our lap top sitting on the nav table, but this time it was safely tucked away. The bell did claim a casualty though. Our dear little wooden dolphin had its tail snapped off.

Somewhere in the middle of this disastrous few days daughter Meagan rang. While I was telling her our tales of woe she was Googling  luck on boats. Here are a few things that she came up with.

It’s bad luck if:

You meet a red haired man or someone with crossed eyes before your journey

You have bananas or women on your boat (a naked woman is good luck!)

You cut your hair or nails at sea

Anyone whistles

You lose a bucket overboard

YOUSTART A JOURNEY ON A FRIDAY!

Bring good luck by:

Wearing gold hoop earrings

Always stepping onto the boat with your right foot

Pouring wine on the deck (That has happened more times that I would like to admit)

The rest of the journey to Port Dickson was dogged by things sent to try us. The main sheet winch sheared off its three bolts making it unusable, and on our last day when we had just about HAD ENOUGH, we left the island of Pulau Besar with a heavy rain cloud on the southern horizon. “We will be ahead of that” we thought. Ha! No such luck. The rain cloud with accompanying thunder and lightning sat on top of us like a big grey dome for six hours. The visibility was so low that we felt we had to turn on our navigation lights and the radar simply to be seen and to see if we were going to run into any of the numerous ships plying the Malacca Strait.

We finally made it to the lovely Admiralty Marina at Port Dickson feeling a bit battered. Leave of a Friday again? Not this little black duck!

 

 

TWO DAYS ONE NIGHT IN SINGAPORE

Old and new

TWO DAYS ONE NIGHT IN SINGAPORE

Moving from Indonesia to Malaysia was a shock. We realized we were going from third world into the first world. Some may feel that that a window had been opened to allow in fresh air with the more advanced country, but I was surprised how much I missed Indonesia, its simplicity and the warmth and friendliness of the people. I hope Indonesia never becomes a first world country if it means losing the contentment and the beautiful open smiles of the Indonesian people.

We were going to really push the envelope and visit Singapore, one of the top first world countries. With the boat safely moored in Puteri Harbour Marina, and time up our sleeve as we waited for a new fresh water pump for the motor, we decided to go back across the Singapore Strait the easy way, by bus. As Puteri Marina is a bit isolated, marina guests are taken to the market, the mall and to the Singapore bus station by courtesy bus. We arranged a 7am pickup, but because of a glitch we didn’t get to the bus stop until after 8am. A quick dash to the money changer for Singapore dollars and we were on the bus with a full bus load of Malaysia to Singapore commuters. Four dollars took us across the bridge that only a few days we had motored under, through Malaysian immigration, Singapore immigration and on to the MRT, Singapore’s super efficient train system.

Straight away we noticed the lack of rubbish and graffiti and the trains looked like they had been commissioned yesterday, they were so clean and unmarked.

A long way from Indonesia!

There were no piles of rubbish, no groups of brown faced, smiling kids and not a rooster or chicken in sight. Instead there were manicured gardens, orderly streets and futuristic multi storey buildings. Where are we now? I love that about travelling; you never know how the day will go and where you will end up.

Sri Mariamman

The MRT was easy to get your head around and we negotiated it like pros, nearly. Our first stop was China Town, where we wandered up and down the interesting little lanes packed with mainly touristy nick knacks. I wandered into the Sri Mariamman Temple, a Hindu temple festooned with highly ornately painted ceilings and pointed roofs crowded with figures seeming to jostle each other for space. I was lucky enough to share a special moment with a beautiful sari clad woman who was giving out spiced rice to visitors to the temple. This day celebrated thirty days since her baby boy was born, and it was on this thirtieth day that she could come to the temple to pray and to name him.  In the days since his birth she could not visit the temple and her little baby had no name.

Tranquillity in the heart of Singapore. The Buddha Tooth Relic Temple

 

Rob making praying for safe passage

Rob and I visited another temple in China Town, this time The Buddha Tooth Relic Temple. Apparently the authenticity of the tooth is somewhat in doubt, but the temple was magnificent. The ornate decorations and the gold everything was overwhelming, but there was a sense of peace and calm about the place that was a nice contrast to the hubbub of China Town. We made our way to the roof garden and that was an absolute treat for already weary foot travellers. Lush foliage and trickling fountains encouraged long pauses on strategically placed bench seats. The second treat was the basement restaurant that served vegetarian food for $3, including a soup, choice of three dishes and rice. I was happy, Rob, not so much!

Swinging the Buddhist prayer wheel

The People Park Complex is famous for its reflexology shops and it is recommended that you look for an older Chinese man to do your treatment. For $20 each we had 30 minutes of foot reflexology and 15 minutes shoulder and neck. Side by side in big comfortable lounge chairs, it was just what foot sore travellers need, except, my older Chinese man was so enthusiastic that I still carried the bruises on my feet a week later. It felt great when it stopped but was agony in the process. Whenever I groaned or grimaced he just looked up and smiled. “Ah, I found the right spot!” Rob’s man was much gentler. No bruises.

Little India lit up for the Deepavali festival

Little India is where we had booked our hotel, so we worked the MRT again, swapping trains without having to wait more than a few minutes. First world does have its advantages! Rob had booked our hotel on line and it cost about $108AU. It looked good in the photos! When we opened the door all we could do was laugh. The queen size bed was pushed to the wall, but to walk around the room one person virtually had to swing their legs up on to the bed to allow passage. The bathroom was so tiny that the shower head was above the toilet. For efficiency one could theoretically do two things at once! You get what you pay for and you obviously have to pay more in Singas. The bed was firm, the sheets clean and it was very convenient for exploring Little India.

Decorations for Deepavali

Riotous colours of Little India

Our stay in Little India coincided with Deepavali, a Hindu day of celebration, not unlike our Christmas.  The shops are packed with colourful flowers, decorations and the bakery shops have queues a mile long. The day is one of joy and happiness and celebrated with family.  We went back into the centre at night and the street was wildly decorated with lights and banners. There was a crush of people and a real buzz about the place. We found the Green Banana Restaurant and had the most delicious meal served on a banana leaf as a plate.

On the theme of first world, we visited the Sim Lim Square, a five storey building devoted solely to every conceivable technology. Our search was in vain however, in this vast building full of gizmos, there was not one lighted Kindle cover. A quest I have had for some months.

The last few hours of our stay in Singapore were spent at the beautiful Botanical Gardens. These hundreds of hectares with meandering paths, beautiful lakes and carefully tended gardens deserved much more that a cursory look. We ate at the open air cafe and watched as a tropical downpour had people scurrying for shelter. The rain washed away the heat of the day and filled the air with the wonderful aroma of wet earth.

Children playing in the tropical downpour. Botanic Gardens Singapore

Our trip home was without a hitch as we negotiated both countries customs in the reverse order. We finished up at the night market in Johor Bahru where we shopped for fresh vegetables, ate at our favourite eatery and met the bus back to the marina. Home at last. Exhausted but happy after a great two days.

 

Doing the Singapore Strait

Nongsa Point marina to Puteri Harbour marina or..goodbye Indonesia and hello Malaysia

Goodbye beautiful Indonesia, till next time

Quite a significant blog this one and, when it's finished, we, and you dear readers, will finally be up to date with our journey.  We left the lovely anchorage at Mesanak Island at first light and looked back wistfully at what had become our typical Indonesian Island anchorage; densely forested island fringed with coconut palms and slivers of white sand complete with a solitary fisherman paddling his dugout away from the shore.  We both looked backed and tried to hold that image and lock it away into our private gallery of significant Indonesian moments. Within a few miles the scene was to change dramatically as we floated strangely between the boundaries of 3^rd world simplicity and 1^st world industrialisation. As soon as we entered Selat Riau, the stretch of water that separates Batam Is and Bintan Is and opens out onto the famous Singapore Strait, we had a little Tardis moment aboard The Doctor. Through the wonders of time travel, suddenly we had arrived in the 21C and simple dugouts were replaced by screaming outboards, beautiful wooden fishing vessels replaced by ugly steel tankers and the forested horizon and clear blue sky replaced by smog and oil tanks by the hundreds. Welcome to industrialisation, 21C style. Our AIS screen which shows other vessels in a 5 mile radius as triangles suddenly turned black and began to look a lot like the crazed drawing from a deranged triangle obsessed psychopath who had been let loose with paper and black crayon. OK, no need to panic, some of them might be anchored!!

So what are the triangles telling you...how do they make you feel?

Our run into Nongsa Point marina was straightforward and it’s always nice to have marina boys in uniform at hand to take lines and finish off the tedious business of setting springs and attaching extension leads. This is a resort marina and therefore comes complete with pool, restaurant, wireless and waiters who are happy to bring iced coffees to poolside as one checks emails and contemplates the menu for dinner options. Ahhhhh, bring on a little 1^st world decadence, we bloody deserve it! We only had a few days of this luxury as the 28^th of October was looming ever nearer and that meant end of visa for Indo and time to clear out. We untied our lines on Sunday morning the 28^th of October and made our way towards Puteri Harbour marina, a modest journey of 50 odd miles, and so out of Indonesian waters and into Malaysian. But first we had to cross the dreaded Singapore Strait.

Tied up at Nongsa

The guidebook says that a large motor vessel crosses the Singapore Strait every 12 minutes which means that you have approximately 12 minutes of time and space between one ship and the next. 12 minutes may seem plenty of time to cross a 2 mile stretch of water but these ships are doing 12 kts of speed at least so you need your wits about you. We sailed down towards Singapore for the first leg and then it was a right hand turn to cross the strait. We had Babar and Silver Girl with us and suddenly we hear Dan from Babar on the radio. “what do you guys think, when do you want to go for it????  I was on the helm and could see a good break in the traffic between a big blue tanker and 2 other ships coming up from behind. I radioed back I was going behind the blue ship and in front of the other two coming up. I swung the helm around and kept The Doc at right angles to the blue ship which was coming up fast. As soon as the stern was clear I pushed the throttle down and with main still up we bolted through the opening. It must have been a funny sight to those on the bridge of the ship as 3 little yachts all scurried their way across the strait like 3 blind mice running madly from the farmer’s wife.

You can get some idea of the traffic we had to dodge

Run mice run (Babar and Silver Girl coming after us and behind the blue tanker)

 

We got across OK but then had to negotiate an inner harbour with more ships coming and going.  After that it was just the causeway bridge to deal with and we were into the channel that leads up to Puteri Harbour marina. The bridge has 25 m clearance and we are 21 m from waterline to top of mast so no sweat really............yeah, no sweat!!!!!! Whenever we go under bridges we both go into a kind of  mute stupour and stare up, transfixed, as the mast sails innocently, perhaps even hopefully clear of concrete. You swear that it’s all going to end up in a tangle of stays, sparks and tears but it never does....not yet anyway. 

 

Goodbye Indonesia Hello........oops just hold that thought



.....yes..got it this time Hello Malaysia....(could have been embarrassing clearing in!!!)

 

So finally we.d cleared the Singapore Strait, we.d manoeuvred around a busy inner harbour, dodged a grave yard of anchored and unemployed tankers, just scraped under a bridge and now we were gently motoring into the welcoming arms of a floating jetty complete with marina boys in uniform waiting to take our lines. Puturi is no resort marina but it does have good facilities and friendly helpful staff. It also has green mould. We walked past a quite new Hunter 32 and noticed it was covered in green gunk and immediately thought it had been to the bottom and been salvaged. Not so! If you sit around long enough in this equatorial clime the green mould will get you eventually. It's even on the spreaders. I am writing this blog while Diana has taken the offer of a free ride to one of the mega malls that blight this country. I am also waiting for a diesel mechanic. I have waited too many hours in my life for diesel mechanics to come but at least here they do come, and on time. I think we may have the fresh water pump solution underway and will give details in the next blog. Our man, James Sin comes highly recommended and here’s hoping!!! Till next time, Rob

The mute stupour got you yet??

and here we are, finally up to date

 

DOING THE MILES – Kalimantan to the Equator

DOING THE MILES – Kalimantan to the Equator

These ships (the triangles)  were the easy ones to miss.

 

Kumai to Belitung was our longest leg yet. It was 222 nautical miles which we did in about 38 hours. Of all that time we only sailed for about 8 hours, so that motor just drummed on and on. For some reason making passages with the motor on seems more tiring, and this one was no exception with sloppy seas and also the constant worry of  unexplainable lights in the moonless night.

This is what we were often dodging during the night. Sometimes with the barge unlit.

An added bit of excitement was when at about midnight I was resting in the saloon, off watch and I heard a thump on the deck and a rattle, rattle, roll. “That can’t be good” she thinks. I raced up on deck to see what it was, to see the 'goose neck' swinging free from the mast. (The 'goose neck' is the part where the horizontal boom meets the mast.) With the boat on automatic steering, we both went up to see what could be done. The nut holding a big pin in place had worked loose and luckily hadn’t gone overboard, but had rolled to a safe place on the deck. With seas that rolled the boat from side to side it was impossible, as hard as we tried, to get it all connected up again. As soon as we got the heavy boom lined up, the boat would lurch sideways and the boom would swing away. We had to secure it somehow, so Rob thought of using one of the spare halyards (ropes) on the mast to hold the big boom at least at the right height. It still wouldn’t line up properly despite much grunting and groaning. We were getting very tired. All the while I would run back to the cockpit to check the radar and chart plotter to make sure we weren’t going to run into anything we shouldn’t. We tried everything to line things up, until I thought of using the boom vang (strut between boom and mast base) to slide the boom towards the mast and it worked! An hour later we collapsed back into the cockpit exhausted. Team Doctor had come through again!

Motley finds the overnighters tiresome too.

BELITUNG

We slid quietly into the anchorage at the island of Belitung at about 7 o’clock that night, very tired little bunnies hoping for a good rest, but Belitung greeted us with one of the worst anchorages we had been in. It was completely open to the weather and a beam swell. We tried unsuccessfully to cross the bar into the shelter of the river, but we went aground and had to struggle to get to deeper water. Consequently we had to ride out quite a tropical storm that gave us 38 knot winds and a boat that pitched manically from side to side. Life on board was pretty desperate as we hung on for dear life. Unfortunately we were stuck there as we had paper work to be processed, our fuel jerries to collect and a bag of washing being done. Otherwise we would have high tailed it out of there quick smart.

 

A boy's canoe

 



As all storms do, it passed and we finished up having a very pleasant three day stay in Belitung. The locals really turned it on for us yachties and were intent on feeding us morning, noon and night for free. They took us to coffee shops (Belitung is famous for its coffee shops), the markets and to the Regent’s house for meals. At the festivities for the anniversary of the regency we were seated on the podium with the important guests to watch the famous Lion Dance. We were even given 100 litres of free diesel, unfortunately of dubious quality! The people were so warm and welcoming and couldn’t do enough for us. It certainly was the most hospitable place in Indonesia.

Free fuel

Free food

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Free entertainment

Hans, our go to man in Belitung

The friendly Belitung team

 

You can't get friendlier than Belitung

 

The family car

 

The next few days were a blur of sailing miles. The deadline for the expiration of our visa was looming and we wanted to clear out of Indonesia as far north as we could. We motored most of our way across the South China Sea to the island of Bangka (170NMs), then to the beautiful island of Lingga (94NMs). All these places deserve more than an overnight stay, but we are so constrained by the crazy visa regulations here. We had a full day at Lingga where steep sided mountains dripped their jungle foliage towards the water. There was a gentle drizzle of rain that softened the edges of everything to a Turner like landscape.

Lingga

With our people batteries charged we headed north towards the equator. Just before the island of Kentar we crossed from the southern to the northern hemisphere. Rob was keen to test the theory about the water going down the plug hole in the opposite way, but the rolling of the boat made the experiment difficult, so it was abandoned. We were well prepared though, as crossing the equator in your own boat is a very auspicious occasion not only because we have sailed all this way, but also because our friend, benefactor and foe, Neptune must be acknowledged. He must have been happy with us as no soon had I said that wouldn’t it be nice if we sailed, not motored across the line, but up piped a lovely 18 knot breeze which soon died off as soon as we were over all the zeros. Many people dress us for the occasion but this was our crossing the equator ceremony. Firstly there was the obligatory photo of the GPS as you cross from South to North, 00.00.00. Then off to the stern of the boat for a good dousing with salt water, which wasn’t too bad a thing to do, considering the heat of the day. Finally we lined up three drinks of gin and tonic with lime, one for Rob, one for me and one for our good King Neptune, which I hope he enjoyed. Just to make sure he was happy, we each said a few word of thanks for keeping us safe this far.  So there we were 11.22am 22^nd October, 2012, a bit salty, a bit tipsy and more than a bit pleased with ourselves!

Going from south to north

Salt water dunking

Salt water dunking 2

One for the King !