KUPANG ORPHANAGE VISIT

KUPANG ORPHANAGE VISIT



Our visit to the orphanage was one of so many mixed emotions. About twenty cruisers were taken in 4WDs to the orphanage that was in the hills above Kupang over bumpy and rough unmade roads. Our guide was Alfredo, who is the son of the couple who run the orphanage. It is privately run and they have little support from the government. He told me that after many pleas for support the government gave a onetime payment of 3,000RP for each child. That is about 30c Australian. There are 90 children there between the ages of six months and twenty years, and being a family run affair the older children look after and teach the younger kids.

The children singing a welcoming song

Firstly we were shepherded into a small hall where Alfedo introduced the children and they performed for us. This sounds very banal, but when Priska, a little three year old took the big microphone in her little hands and sang solo, there was not a dry eye in the house. Her parents died in a car accident only two months ago. For the first two weeks she was inconsolable and didn’t stop crying, but gradually she has accepted the orphanage as her new family. I think every one of us wanted to take her home. But really she is so lucky to have found herself in this loving environment. In fact there were many children who would have found homes that day if it were possible. Their beautiful big brown eyes were so friendly and open. I just felt like hugging them.

Little Priska winning our hearts

The facilities are unbelievably basic. The children sleep in two dorms, boys and girls, four to a bed and some on the floor. The kitchen is only a bare floor with two camping fires under big pots. They do have however, a vegetable garden, pigs and lots of chickens. After school, each child has chores to do and they are taught to tend the garden, clean, cook and wash. There was not one toy, book or game in sight. When I think of how much we have, and our children and grand children have, in Australia, it is very sobering.

The girls dorm.

After school chores

Vegetable garden

Religion (Christian) is a very strong element in the orphanage and prayers and songs are a part of every day. They have a strong belief that God will provide for them. Of course the whole idea of the tour was to gather support and we all put in what we thought we could at the time. I have copied part of Alfredo’s email and you can contact us if you require any further information.

The day left me feeling sad for all the children without parents, sad about the struggle they have to obtain even the basics that we so take for granted, but also content that these children have a loving and supportive environment that gives them a better chance in life. Diana

Dear Mrs.Diana and Mr.Rob...
Thank you so much for your kindnness...
And thank you for your advice, the girls did not disappointed
This year from the rally we got $300, we would like to use the money to pay for the hospital,
because some mounts ago some of my children are getting sick, so we are still collect money to pay the hospital.
Well if you do not mind i would like to send you our complete address and some general information..

this is our complete address and my bank details..
Am sorry,because am using my own bank details, because until now we are still earn collect some mony to make the license in the name of our orphanage.
I hope we could get some donation to buy the land and build our own building in for the children in and also we will have the license in the name of our orphanage, because until now we are still rent the place that we are staying now...

I know that we have many shortage,
Right now important thing for me it is :
1.Make the license in the name of our orphanage
2.We will have own land and own building, so we do not need to pay the rent every year
3.We need mattress for the children, because some of the children so often getting sick because they have to sleep on the floor beacuse we do not have enough mattress.
4.We need a medical person in our orphanage, because when the children are getting sick, and if we haven't money we have to pay credit and some times it is hard but we believed God never live us alone.
Now one of my children, she is studying to be a nurse i nurse university, i hope i will get some donation  to continue her education at the nurse university.
5. I want all of my children are growing up with the brightly future with the enough education so, when they grow up or finish from their university they will get good job for their self and of course i need sphonsor to help me to continue all of my children future and good life for them....

Well, i hope you are always in good...
and please tell your friends about us, and hopefully they seen us also like your kindnness....
We could only pray for you and we are hopping that you are always in good and protecting by God and thank you for caring my children and thank you for everyhing...
I will continue this job, to care all of my children even i will get more children in my orphanage because i know one day God will gives me everything when i am in heaven...

If you do not mind please send us your picture
and also if you do not mind would you like to help me?
Please pass thin general information from us to your friends


Well thank you so much for everything,
on behalf of my children i would lie to say thank you so much for carring us..
Please say hi to your family...
have the great journeys and God bless you....

Best regard

Alfredo and Children

The well

The kitchen

We're published!

Before setting off towards SE Asia we set a goal to have our book about our sailing voyage around Australia finished and to the publisher. We did it by the skin of our teeth, actually handing the final version on a USB stick to a friend (thanks Lyn) to post to our publisher on the night before our departure to Timor.

Thank you to our friends that have kept nagging us to get on with it and to my Mum (dec) and Nicki who read through our draft and gave us suggestions and encouragement. Here it is at long last. We hope you enjoy it.

Diana & Rob

It is available on line through the following eBook publishers.

Amazon:

 http://www.amazon.com/Tell-Tales-Sailing-Adventures-ebook/dp/B008W1EV3Q/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1344736785&sr=1-1&keywords=neggo

Smashwords:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/213799

KUPANG WEST TIMOR

KUPANG WEST TIMOR

Kupang

After a fairly painless clearing in, in Dili, we were in for a bit of a surprise with the complicated system used in Indonesia. Our arrival in Kupang coincided with the arrival of the huge fleet of 130 Sail Indonesia boats that left Darwin two weeks after us. The local officials from customs and quarantine visited each boat to start the complicated paper trail. Tempers got heated as cruising boats thought they were being missed or people were being seen out of turn. It got interesting when the official boat broke down and requested that cruisers fetch the officials in their own dinghies. Of course any order was lost as those with dinghies took the officials to their own and their friends’ boats first. Ah, cruising with large numbers of boats!

When our turn came SIX officials came on board. There were two doing the work but the others just came along for the ride. Multiple copies of ship’s documents and port clearances had to be produced. A friend who had cleared in before us gave us the heads up on having to have a list of all medications carried. I hurriedly hand wrote out the contents of our medical cupboard, but of course they needed two copies, so I pulled out the printer and copied out another. The quarantine person asked to look through the boat and said hello to the cat. Luckily we had a letter in Indonesian from the Consulate in Darwin requesting clear passage for her, so there was no trouble there. He looked at the toilet and noted “Clean toilet”, which seemed to be important for some reason. Surprising really when you see the condition of most of the toilets ashore. Each boat had a different story to tell depending on which official they got and what their requirements were. Some had to list the content and types of meat that they were carrying, others had to account for alcohol and some had every cupboard opened and searched by more than eight officials. We got off pretty lightly. All they asked for was beer, which we politely refused on the advice from Sail Indonesia. The checking in procedure would be even more long winded if everyone gave them beer!

Working through the technology and communication maze.

Once the officials left, we could drop our yellow quarantine flag and go ashore, only to do the whole thing again in an office set up with desks for the various departments. After a couple of hours we felt quite exhausted, but luckily nearby was a great open air bar which soon became the regular meeting place for our friends.

The kids love having their photo taken

Kupang is one wild city. Imagine a party where everyone is having a great time, the music is cranking and the noise level goes up and up as everyone tries to be heard above the cacophony. Kupang is like a party in overdrive. There are hundreds of scooters and motor bikes and every one of them is constantly sounding their horn. They beep to get people to move out of their way, they beep to let know that they are about to overtake on the inside, and they beep just because they can. Add to the bikes the mad Bimos that are small vans manned by a driver and a spruiker that arranges the passengers and fares (20c to anywhere). With Bimos there are only two speeds, stopped and full tilt. Forget about any road rules, they push their way through impossible gaps and overtake with gusto giving scant regard to oncoming traffic. Imagine San Francisco car chase, but in a rattly Bongo van with bench seats. Apart from enjoying the adrenaline pumping ride for your added enjoyment, under the bench seats there are huge boom box speakers fitted. These are often played full blast and with the bass set as low as it goes. The Hip Hop or whatever is not so much heard but felt as your diaphragm rocks in time. We are operating in overdrive here. As soon as we go ashore our senses are overloaded with noise and the crush of people and traffic and after any excursion we need to recover to the quietness of the boat.

Learing traditional dance

Our cruising buddied from Tipperary Waters, Darwin

There were two official functions hosted by the mayor and governor of Kupang, complete with speeches, traditional dancing that we took part in, and a feast. As is the Kupang way, the load speakers were on full volume. The noisier it is the more fun we must be having!

Dinghy parking area

Kupang Harbour wasn’t a great anchorage, being notable for the floating parade of plastic rubbish and also open to the afternoon sea breeze. We did have some great service put on for us though, with dinghy boys launching and taking care of our dinghies for $4 a day. They also took care of our rubbish, which I noticed they carefully went through looking for recyclables, and arranged for our laundry and fuel requirements. It’s great having the laundry done. It comes back beautifully washed, folded and ironed. Ironed clothes? Amazing.

Night street market

The highlight was the discovery of a night market that we often went to for dinner. A major street was blocked off at night and stalls were set up with their coal burning BBQs cooking fish, chicken and lots of other delicious foods, all for only for a few dollars. I think I am in heaven here. No cooking, great food, no laundry chores, dinghy boys, so no dragging the dinghy ashore. I can really get used to this.

Diana

Monkey Cave tour

Oecussi Timor Leste

Oecussi, a taste of Portugal

Oecussi is about 90 miles south west of Dili and it is a strange little enclave of Timor Leste that sits out on its own buffered by Indonesian held land. It is the site of original Portuguese settlement in Timor and our first sighting was an intriguing mix of faded red tiled roofs and white washed arches hidden behind coconut palms and massive banyan trees. The Portuguese influence is strong and I half expected to see some dozing hombres asleep under wide brimmed sombreros and maybe even a donkey shuffling along the dusty streets. Too many Westerns! Instead, what greeted us as we pulled the dinghy up to the beach was a flood of smiling faces and excited giggling from school kids who were wandering along the foreshore on some kind of school excursion, apparently. Couldn’t see any person who resembled a teacher amongst the 100 or so kids and as a teacher myself, kind of marvelled at that the fact that A, there were no iPods, smart phones stuck in ears, B, exercise books were being written in and work was being done and C, there was no silly behaviour I could see.. Try sending students off to the beach unaccompanied in Australia and the outrage would be deafening.

Our first view of Oecussi

Oecussi has a number of places to eat, according to the Lonely Planet Guide, so we set off in search of Aries, a cafe frequented by locals. Diana was putting her newly learnt Bahasa to good use we eventually found it and ordered Nasi Ayem, rice and chicken, both precooked and both sitting in glass cabinets, no refrigeration. I wolfed mine down but Diana was a little more cautious. I think the pile of blackened chicken sitting behind glass didn’t help. We met a UN worker who was helping with the recently held and mostly peaceful  government elections and told us about the Saturday market just up the road. We hailed a Microlet, a kind of mini-bus-taxi and headed off. The entrepreneur at the wheel demanded 5 US dollars for the ride and our UN helper got him down to 2. A local Timorese on board who had good English told me he only paid 10 cents, the usual price! Ah well, you win some and you lose some. To picture the markets,  think Freo markets but then put everybody and everything on the ground , in the dirt and under bamboo shelters. An amazing sight of piles of clothes, simple hardware, fruit and vegetables and all sorts of sellable items lay before us. A true village market.



Putting on my orthotics was a big hit with the locals!!!

  Villagers from the mountains come down with their produce and find a place in the dirt, spread out their few tomatoes, limes and beans and collect maybe a dollar or two for the whole effort. The old women all chew beetle nut and their smiles are broad but blood red. I kept seeing splashes of red on the ground everywhere and thought a cracked gear box or nasty foot wound until I realised it was beetle spray. We couldn’t get a microlet back so we jumped on the back of a motor bike and bounced our way back to the boat (50 cents each). A first for Diana and something I thought I’d never see.



The cotton thread is used in traditional weaving of tais (photo of the year award to D)

Sometimes you set out for a day not really knowing how it’s all going to work and our trip up to Oesillo was exactly that. It was a two hour journey up to the mountain village and then a short hike to an active volcano complete with bubbling mud pools. Now, where do we get a microlet for 7 of us on a Sunday morning and, more to the point, one who is willing and able to negotiate the maze of hairpin corners and four wheel drive conditions up to the village. Not easy as church goes till 10 am and sorry, its compulsory in this very Roman Catholic town. Sitting on the sea wall, next to his Nissan Dual cab, is Laurenco Adelaide, a conflict resolution worker who happens to be on his day off. Diana has skilfully charmed him into helping us find a microlet but really, once the confusion clears, it is he who will take us all in his car if we fill his tanks with diesel. This was done at the local servo, about 5 miles out of town. No gleaming self serve pumps and hot chips on offer here my friends. The deisel sits in plastic jerries and the pump is of the human kind, that is, hose in the mouth and then a quick suck and into the tank she goes.



The personal touch at the bowser

 Half of the crew opt for the open air tray ride and the other half don’t take much persuasion to gab the seats inside. How they survived the trip up and back is a miracle. The bubbling mud pools were nothing more than a cow pat size splash of mud but you sensed this lava strewn crater was just the tip of a sleeping monster.

A baby volcano

On our way up and down the mountain we were greeted with smiling faces and waving hands from the villagers as we flew past in the ute. A smile and a wave or a shake of your hand is the immediate response from strangers in this part of the world and it seems such a civilised way of being.  Peace and pleasantness  surround you here and it makes such a change from the angst and wariness that stalks a lot of western society.

Just two of the beaming smiles we were met with in our time in Oecussi

 We pulled anchor next morning as the sun rose on sleepy little Oecussi and the faded red tiles and white washed arches slowly disappeared from sight.  Rob

Autoro Island Timor-Leste

ATAURO ISLAND

We were thankful to leave rolly and dirty Dili Harbour and were quite exhausted by all the rally festivities and functions, great as they were. A beautiful and isolated anchorage was beckoning.  

Dinghy landing area. Black sand, rubbish and diesel in the water.

Dili was a great initiation to sailing and cruising in SE Asia. It wasn’t too crowded and although noisy and dusty the people were gentle and polite even when I struggled along with my very shaky Indonesian. We started to get into the swing of bargaining and as the currency is US Dollars at least the numbers were easy. We ate great food for $5 for two, and both developed an appreciation for Bintang beer that comes in huge bottles for only $3.50.

Atauro Island is only a 25NM sail north of Dili and as we sailed along its steep sides we could spot white beaches, coconut palms and even some palm thatched huts. I felt that we had made it at last. , We were now actually cruising and exploring foreign lands.

Sailing up to Autoro Island

Anchoring was pretty tricky as the island, being volcanic in origin, has a narrow shelf of rock and coral fringing it which then plunges into a huge drop off into over a 100 metres. After two attempts we dropped the anchor in 6 metres of water over rock, and drifted back into 40 metres. We were hanging over a deep dark abyss, a vertical wall that plunged away into darkness. Ross on a Freedom Express used his bathescope to view our anchor and came back to report the journey that our anchor chain took, meandering around rocks and boulders. He declared that we were secure even though the anchor was just lying on its side over rock. Bringing up the anchor might present some challenges, but we’d worry about that later!

Kokomo and Babar joined us, and together with Freedom Express and Nefertiti we all perched precariously on this fringing little ledge. The water here is famously clear and the seabed can be made out even at 30 metres.

We had the first swim off the boat since Broome and did it feel great. The water was the perfect temperature and the clarity was amazing. There was often quite a strong tide running so you had to be careful to not be whisked away. Much of the time I just hung on to the swim ladder with goggles on, admiring the coral. You could stay in the water all day without getting cold.

Landing party

We dinghied to the white sandy beach with the crew of Babar, and were met by some local fishermen who were lounging around in the shade by their dugout canoes. Language was difficult as they spoke a mixture of Tetan, the local Timorese dialect, Portuguese and Indonesian. We were taken to see their village which was a mixture of tin and palm leaf huts linked by meticulously swept and stone bordered paths. There was an orchard of fruit trees and we were presented with an orange each. A great mob of kids came to stare at us with their big brown eyes. They dissolved into shy giggles when we spoke to them and I felt sorry that I didn’t have anything to give them. They looked wonderful though, healthy and well dressed. The fishermen asked if we had any swimming goggles as they use them for fishing. We had a spare so returned to the beach with them.

Greeting our guests



Three boys wearing wide white smiles came to visit The Doc on their outrigger canoe. They sat on the back of the boat looking at The Doctor with big eyes as we struggled along communicating with a smattering of Indonesian, English and lots of gestures. We did find out that they went to school on a neighbouring island, that their mother had passed away and also that 200 people lived on their island. We gave them another set of goggles and they paddled off into the growing darkness. Hours later they returned with their canoe filled with fishing net and snared fish. They proudly handed over three of their catch and it fed Rob, Motley and I. It was great to see that the goggles that we had given them were on their heads and put to good use straight away. I wonder what the fishermen would have thought if they knew our cat had partaken of their catch. The concept of a pet would be a foreign one over here. When we cleared in to Timor-Leste the immigration officials were told about the cat on board and their response was “To eat?” They are used to the local boats taking animals on board for eating purposes.

Village at Autoro Island

Carefully manicured paths in the village

We spent a couple of days at Atauro, and although beautiful beyond words we felt uneasy due to the precarious anchorage and also the strong bullets of wind that came hurtling down from the steep sided island. We pulled anchor, and luckily it came up without a hitch, and we set sail westwards towards new adventures. Diana

Darwin to Dili, East Timor

Breaking news........................................

THE DOCTOR WINS SECOND PLACE IN THE DARWIN TO DILI RALLY

Welcome back to our blog dear readers and you may need to put the kettle on for this one because a lot has happened and there is much to tell, but, I’ll keep it tight. Well.......where should we start?

The last week in Darwin was the culmination of months of planning and preparation and I won’t bore you with the details. You would not believe the myriad of STUFF that has to be done, a lot of it paper work to do with visas, final clearances, duty free and then there was Motley’s contribution of shots and final vet checks. Her paper file is nearly as thick as ours. Still, we have done everything asked of us in terms of her transit through SE Asia and so far so good.  The final briefing at Darwin Sailing Club from Anne Kemp, the rally organiser, was thorough and she left the room buzzing with excitement. The barbecue that followed was excellent and the speeches short. We were wished well many times and with a big sail looming most crew headed back early to our out posts in Fannie Bay for our last sleep before the 11 o’clock start next morning.

Checking through the aid that we transported to Dili

The winds were light and after enduring continual south easterlies for the past months, today it decided to shift north west, you guessed it, right on the nose. This proves the fact that the windex on top of the mast is there not only to show wind direction but preferred course. Still, it was light. The Doc had a minor incident when on raising the main (yes RJ, I know what you’re thinking) I saw that the slides had slipped out of the track and needed to be pushed back up. This means holding a big main up with one hand while slotting slides in with the other and then pulling halyard up with your third hand. DIANA!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So there was The Doc, sitting into the wind with no one on the helm, seconds from the start with the main slowly reaching skywards. We got it up OK with time to spare and then we turned out attention to the start. A quick look at the clock down below confirmed it was indeed 11 o’clock, if not a tad past said hour, so we eased her bow across the line, gave the media/start boat a loud farewell and we were off on a 435 nm sail across Timor Sea and into the safe harbour of Dili, Timor-Leste. We are not known for our competitive starts and what the hell, we were in the cruising division.

Glassed off start line

Flying the flag

OK, how to summarise a 4 day, 4 night sail in a few words. No wind, 40kt 2hour storm cell, 25kts from behind and 3.5 seas, no wind, short rain squalls, 25 knots and finally variable 5-15 knots from behind with a 2 knot current against us for the last leg from Jaco Island along the north coast of Timor-Leste to Dili. Your first thoughts even for those non- sailors out there would be, gee, a mixed bag of conditions and yes dear readers, a mixed bag pretty much sums it up. Mixed bags are not ideal sailing conditions and this was not an ideal sail. With such shifting winds it was impossible to get your allotted 3 hours off watch sleep as we both needed to be on deck to drop this sail, put up this other one, turn motor on turn motor off, stow everything down below before storm the hit, check for shipping in this busy sea way and generally have two sets of eyes and hands at the ready. As the days wore on and sleep deprivation set in, things became harder and dreams just a little surreal.

It's a tough life cruising

First sunset

The Storm Cell

Before we left Darwin we had fitted a new, state of the art, radar and chart plotter system and it earned its 10 boat units price tag this night. The wind had dropped out and the main was doing its slip slap slop routine and to those familiar with this thwack, shudder, slam boom symphony, they will also know that sustained exposure can lead to unhealthy thoughts concerning just how long it’s worth living. We dropped the main and the silence was like 2 Panadol on a pumping headache. Ahhh, peace....but not for long. Suddenly, our radar screen started showing patches of yellow vomit signifying squalls that were drifting nearer and nearer our boat. The first two seemed to float past and we sat and stared and sighed in relief. Then, just on the edge of the screen a faint shape that filled the whole screen began to move in from the right of the screen. It started out whitish blue but soon turned that lurid yellow and there it was a massive storm cell that was 9 miles long and 2 miles wide. There was no escaping this one. Suddenly a voice comes through on the radio.

“Securite, securite, securite.  This is the yacht Babar, we are currently experiencing 40 knot winds and torrential rain with this storm cell. Advise all yachts to reduce sail and prepare wet weather gear.”

Thanks Dan. We had dropped our main and just had the headsail out, had wet weather gear on and had stowed all gear with wash boards in place. Motley didn’t think it was too serious so she just snuggled deeper into her cushion under the dodger and watched through the window. Diana went below and I squeezed into the corner of the cockpit and watched as it went over us. The funny thing is that the stronger the wind the better the conditions. The peak of the gusts actually blew the sea flat and with the pouring rain it was like sailing on a lake. The Doc topped 9.8 kts at one point and it was like we were floating over the sea. I watched the radar like the shipwrecked watch the horizon and slowly this big ugly yellow splotch lurched and spilled itself sideways and off the screen. It was now about 0300 and with no moon the only light came from the phosphorescence off breaking waves and these seemed to be getting louder and longer. Welcome to the 3.5 m following seas and 20-25kts that came in the aftermath. With only the headsail up, we dipped and lurched into every trough and then soared down the following face. We desperately needed some main up but it was unsafe to go forward and it was now I wished we had a furling main. Still, we were making reasonable speed at 5-6 knots and the autopilot, something we both speak about with religious reverence, was taking it well.

It was horrible to be trapped in the cockpit knowing that a double reefed main would steady the boat and allow The Doc to sail as she does so well. I ventured forward on one attempt but found the slides had come out again and the halyard was tangled around the spreaders and so crawled back to the cockpit. Conditions improved a little and I got it sorted on a second attempt and with the reefed main and full jib. The Doc started to sail at last instead of lurching from one wave to the next. She seemed to pick up speed immediately as if to say, “When will you two learn”?????”

First sight of Timor

A lot happened on this sail and mindful that blogs should be short (yeah right) I’ll move on. The sail along the north coast of Timor- Leste was stunning. As the day broke, low cloud hung in white shrouds against the deep blue and purples of the steep faced mountains that make up most of this island. We had a fickle following wind and occasional rain squalls and a 2 knot contrary current, so we dropped and packed the main away, put on the motor and ghosted along with the headsail nicely filled. We’d had enough. No proper sleep in 4 days makes decision making almost comical and possibly dangerous so we put The Doc in auto mode and enjoyed the ride. There was some mention of a spinnaker but as is always wise when you think spinnakers, it never got any further than a mention. (You had to be there RJ)  It really is a spectacular island and we loped along all day and into the night chewing off the miles towards Dili harbour. We finally got in at 0515 and picked up a mooring in the tiny and crowed anchorage.

Landfall

Tradition on The Doc is that any arrival is celebrated with a beer, no matter what time of day. Out came the cold cans and we toasted to our first international sail and a successful completion of a long and arduous trip. We were in the mood and so a glass of wine was next, mine a fullish red and Diana’s a crisp white. With these two quickly downed you would think sleep would be calling like a soft lullaby but no dear readers; there was one final brain dead moment to come. With my red almost finished Diana declared we are too close to another boat and we need to move moorings NOW. OK, I’ll go forward and throw off the mooring line and we can SIMPLY motor over to that other one. Mooring line off, I’m standing on the bow and we are slowly drifting back away from the long tailing line. Let’s speed things up. Try a little reverse, I say, and before the words are out and before gear lever has been touched I know this will end in tears. It does. The mooring wraps itself firmly around the propeller and we are hanging precariously by the propeller shaft in a tiny crowded anchorage.

In my sleep deprived and possibly half drunk state of mind I am determined, obsessed even to remedy this NOW. Before you can blink, I am in Speedos (it was dark, OK) face mask fitted and dolphin torch in hand with knife wrapped around the other. Over I go and the water is balmy warm and the clarity excellent but it’s still pitch black. With dolphin torch tucked up under neck and one hand secured to prop I start to unravel the line but it’s tight so I cut off the float to allow more room. It pops to the surface and I retrieve it and swim it back to Diana who is quietly thinking through insurance possibilities and range of coverage if found to be under the influence of alcohol.....??? I go back down and it slowly begins to loosen and the tail is getting slowly longer. Suddenly a zodiac appears and two Timorese guys come over and I tell them my tale. One asks for a mask and within seconds he is over and under with me and we manage to free the line with no loss of mooring or damage. I get back on deck and dry off when suddenly I hear a cry from another boat,

“Don’t you know there are crocs in the harbour?  A 3 metre one lives just over by the wall.”

I don’t have mental faculties to actually deal with this information at the time and have no reply other than to stare back and smile like an idiot. And so ends the sail from Darwin to Dili. We have been here about 5 days and have just finished the formalities of the rally. The Doctor finished second overall on handicap in the cruising division (well done skipper) and picked up a fine trophy and $900 in prize money, half of which we have given back to a University scholarship program which sponsors Timorese students through university education. It costs just $40 per student so we are pleased to be able to help in this small way.

Winners

Dili is a bustling city full of contrasts from palatial government buildings to the dusty shacks of the poor. Yellow taxis fill the streets and bargaining a fare is in itself half the fun of the ride. Food is cheap and the locals friendly and helpful. It’s the contrasts that linger when you try and paint a picture of this city. There are roads and they are usually full of traffic, mostly motorbikes of all sizes with a smattering of newish four wheel drives. But mostly people just walk or sit around under shade with no particular purpose in mind. The roads are fine, in places, but then they deteriorate into what you would call road works in progress. There is one set of traffic lights that we have seen and they are more of a hindrance to traffic flow than a help. There are no road rules here, you just go with the flow, show patience and make ample use of the horn. There are street sellers everywhere but they are not too pushy. Perhaps the most memorable moment so far was our visit to the Independence Museum, an old restored Portuguese building dedicated to the Timorese fight for independence. We had a young guide who talked us through the pictures, timelines and written documents and he had lost family members to the Indonesian oppression. The Indonesian army, he said, would knock on a front door, enter and remove a father, a son or an uncle for no apparent reason and these people would never be seen again. He spoke of the real terror, the real fear and heartbreak these people have experienced in their fight and the more he spoke the more I sensed what it must have been like to live through these times. He finished quietly and gave us humble thanks for being there and listening to his story and just for a moment I glimpsed what a nightmare military oppression and brutality must be and what profound damage it causes. The building is a monument and a celebration to the Timorese struggle and their courage to endure and for me it was a profoundly moving experience. Today is our first rest day after numerous festivities since arriving, and we are catching up on blogs, sleep and “little jobs”.  We will head over to Atauro Island next week for some diving and exploring and then head towards Kupang, our clearing in spot for Indonesia. So stay tuned for the next instalment from Kupang. Bye for now, Rob  

Darwin Dili link: http://www.sailtimorleste.org/

Sail Indonesia link: http://www.sailindonesia.net/home/home.php

Darwin Dili Rally Headquarters

NT. Gotta love it!

NT. GOTTA LOVE IT!



Mall snake

NT is a place like no other. Backpackers are streaming in with the start of what is called "The Dry", but there is still room to ride your bike around the city streets without fear. There is often something that will take you by surprise, like the python in the city mall that you can drape around your neck for $5.

The Dry means, no rain of course, but the humidity has dropped and the evenings and mornings are blessedly cool. The "cold" word has been mentioned once or twice during the night so the customary sheet is sometimes supplemented with a cotton blanket. It is still in the low 30s during the day, but all the shops are displaying winter woollies and jackets. I don't know who will wear them here, though we did see a little kid wearing black jeans and checked flannel shirt, and his dad said "You can tell he's a local. He's cold!", even in a balmy 30 degrees.

My birthday was a good excuse to lash out and hire a car to drive to Lichfield National Park which is about 100kms out of Darwin. Not used to any speed above walking pace, the speed limits in NT were terrifying. We had a great day though, getting totally water logged in the many ponds and water falls along the river. Swimming is something we really miss here in the top end. With the crocs and box jelly fish in the murky green waters, swimming is a definite no go. Being so hot and humid it makes it really tough for us west coasters, brought up within cooee of the white sands of the Indian Ocean.

Check out the speed limit, on the bend.

Birthday treat at Lichfield National Park

Birthday girl having fun

We have made good progress on The Doctor, readying her for her first overseas trip. The new 3G radar has been fitted. Rob was tested to the limit of his endurance by spending the best part of the day in searing heat attaching the mast platform and radar unit.  We chose this radar as it picks up small targets such as small fishing boats, which I hear are quite an issue through SE Asia. Installed too are an AIS unit which tracks nearby shipping and a MFS to display it all on. That was my part of the refit complete. Rob has organized having the injectors serviced, a large additional alternator and smart regulator for charging the batteries plus other engine stuff.

Rob doing some mast hugging

Next on the agenda was the final lift of the boat at Cullen Bay Slipway, where we had the cutlass bearing replaced, not without some drama. This bearing lies between the propeller and where the prop shaft enters the boat and the engine. Of course, it wasn't a standard size, which wasn't such a great problem, but the bend in the prop shaft was. It was bent because the bronze bracket holding it in position was off centre. "No probs" said the marine engineer. "We'll just heat it up and bend it into position." Well bronze is quite a brittle metal... say no more. It cracked right across the bracket with the second heating. "We'll weld it up" says the engineer. The welding machine wasn't up to the job. We now have two welders on the job, plus the engineer and the slipway manager. At about his stage all I could hear was the gentle whoosh as money left our account at an alarming rate. Feeling a little faint and out of sorts I asked the slipway manager, Jeff how much this was going to cost. He saved the day and said that we wouldn't be charged for the welding as it was their problem. Colour returned to my cheeks immediately and the smile that had been missing returned. I must say, (not only because the slipway picked up the welding bill), it was one of the better boat yards that we have been in. Jeff and his wife run a clean, organized and friendly operation.

Cullen Bay Slipway

Haven't seen this problem before.

Doing business in Darwin has had its challenges. The saying, "NT...Not today, not tomorrow, not Tuesday, not Thursday" just about sums it up. The feeling here is either very laid back, or if you do find a  really good trady, they are so flat out that to even get an audience is a privilege. Well as a friend said, it's good practice for Indonesia.

At time of writing we have left the marina and the slipway and are anchored off the Darwin Sailing club in Fanny Bay. We are without a motor as the fuel pump, now working hard with the serviced injectors started leaking fuel. We have been waiting nine days for the fuel pump to be serviced. Luckily we have had some good wind  for the wind generator and sun charging the solar panels. Otherwise without the motor to charge the batteries, we would be in trouble. It's coming tomorrow I hear, or maybe not tomorrow. We will see.

It is great out on anchor with space around us and the wind blowing through the boat. Due to the big tides here (7-8 metres) we have to anchor almost a mile out from the shore, so our trusty dinghy and out board are our best buddies. We have a couple of friends anchored nearby and the Mindle Markets are only a dinghy ride away. It is less than eight weeks before we depart for East Timor and it is getting exciting. Soon we will be anchored off a whole new country.



Fanny Bay anchorage