It was a relief to be sailing again. The quiet, the lack of people. Such a hypocrit I am! After all the complaining I did while cruising Northern Territory, that I was so lonely and wanting more human contact, here I was trying to get away from it after a week in Indonesia. I feel so drained from the constant photos and attention. From trying to speak Bahasa Indonsia and never getting enough sleep due to the very rolly anchorage of Saumlaki. After all my paranoia of trying to stay super healthy (avoiding eating ice or local foods that seem risky, sterilising my hands and keeping away from animals), I'm the only one who ends up with the dodgy belly and weird itchy rash. I'm so paranoid because I know how terrible it is to get Giardia (it got me bad back in 2005 in Thailand and it took me years to fully recover). So, this first day of sailing, I try to rest and recover. It's a fantastic day for sailing – reminding us of the Whitsundays – protected waters free of swell, good winds of 15-20knots and currents helping us along our way. We had arranged to cruise in company with Kellie, Youngie and their daughter Indi from Malonga but somehow don't manage to meet with them due to communication problems (they only have a handheld VHF). We anchor at Kolan Fanoter with two other yachts just in time to log into the radio sched that a few of the participants on this rally have set up on HF radio. We discover that a strait Rene was keen to sail up is in fact not safe for a boat our size. We all enjoy a normal meal of pesto pasta and watch David Attenborough.
Youngie with his Malonga
We leave early next morning and head for the mouth of the strait where Malonga had anchored – we need to warn them not to go that way! Getting close, we can't spot them and have to tack away for fear of shallow water. Today is a day of tacking. R2detour decides to die and we have to use Aries instead. We cut up one of my old hot-pink stockings to go over the steel frame Rene built. It works OK but is much more attention-seeking than R2. We sail out around the bottom of Seira island and try to head in between it and a small islet, Pulau Yeyaru. I'm inside making lunch when Rene says 'Um.. I don't like this...can you come up here?'. I'm up there like a rocket, at the helm and turning hard to starboard as Rene quickly changes the sails and we do the quickest tack ever to get out of there! We got down to 2.3metres of water and could see the coral beneath us. I'm shaking from the adrenaline. Our chart-plotter says we should be in 11 meters! We decide to take an alternate route and to go the long way around the few small islands in the vicinity – giving them a very wide berth to avoid their reefs. Pic of chart and our course. Malonga was by now sailing with us and we enjoyed sailing with them as we both tacked back and forth up the bay towards Welutu village anchorage. Frecinet was in communication with us as we approached and at one point we'd decided to push on, avoiding the village (we'd heard that some yachts had been asked for alcohol). The wind was against us though and so we turned in and anchored with everyone (1 Kiwi yacht and 5 Aussie's). James from Frecinet collected us (he used Azzan's powerful 15HP dinghy which he thought was 'orgazmic') and we had a relaxing evening onboard Frecinet having a couple of sundowners and catching up.
Aaaaargh - sundowners!!
Azzan came over to our boat afterwards so that Rene could fix their navigation software on their laptop and they ended up staying for dinner. It was nice to spend time with other yachties. The village generator went all night – we had mobile reception and so I texted my Mum twice. The second message I feel bad about – I told her of my itchy arm-rash thing and asked her what she thought it could be. By morning the generator was off and we had no reception again – I know she'll be worrying about me and I feel terrible! Regarding the generators, everywhere we visited in the Tanimbars had power only from generators. In Saumlaki, there were timed outages to supply power to everyone. In one store we opened a fridge to buy bottled water to find it completely warm.
Everyone sets out towards Wotap Island (nick-named 'Wombat' after a mix-up on the HF radio by me). Lady Kay is there already and has been tempting us with their explanation of the place – no village, clear water and snorkelling. Just what we all want for a rest.
Keeping the log as we sail
Rene insists that we pull up anchor without the engine and we sail the whole way. Everyone else used their motor and we think they all must have motor-sailed because they are so much faster than us! Penny enjoys learning to sail and I enjoy writing up the blog. We opt for the longer, safer route around the north of Wotap which looks free of reefs. Everyone else takes the shorter passage to the south, through a series of reefs and bommies. We had enough of that yesterday and are happy to spend the time sailing and relaxing rather than worrying about hitting a reef. It's so lovely to be cruising in company again. To share information, resources and experiences.
Despite having two GPS waypoints to follow into the anchorage on Wotap, I climb the mast and sit at the first cross-trees for a good vantage point to see the fringing reef and channel entrance. This anchorage is pretty spectacular. I wish we'd fixed the inflatable kayak already so I could explore! Instead, after anchoring, we work at washing our clothes – as I've mentioned before, a very time-consuming and laborious process by hand. Before we've finished this chore, it's time to go over to the catamaran Lady Kay for sundowners along with everyone else at the anchorage (Sharita, Just Magic, Anwin, Freycinet, Azzan, Kelolo and Veedon Fleece). We agree to only trade with the locals rather than simply giving them handouts – we don't wish to set a precedent for future yachts visiting here. We all stay for hours and have a fantastic time – this is what cruising is about!
Trading at Wotap
Early next morning we're woken with the sound of loud 2 stroke engines putt-putting around the anchorage. Soon there is a wooden prahu alongside us and a voice calls out 'hallo Mr.... hallo Mr'. The boat contains a father and his three small girls. He asks us for clothes, books, pens and lollies. We explain (in broken Bahasa Indonesia) that we will only agree to trade (dagang). He sends his two small sons off in another carved wooden boat and they return 20 minutes later with 8 freshly picked, green (Queen) coconuts. While waiting for the boys to return, Penny and Rene do their best to communicate with xxxx while I continue to wash our clothes. We eventually complete the trade, giving them a bag of children's clothes (thanks to Dee from Townsville!), a blank exercise book and a pen each. They leave, delighted and Rene sets to work on the coconuts, retrieving the delicious juice and young flesh.
Little girls at Wotap
This first interaction was the best. What followed was another 4 boats with different men all asking for a variety of things. We traded 4 golden (King) coconuts for another bag of clothes to one boat, then two guys who were from the Islamic village of LeBobo, hung off our boat sliding their eyes over Penny and I as we did our washing. He tried to climb aboard numerous times and we had to keep shooing him off. We got a really bad vibe from him as he kept checking out our boat and not showing any respect to us, our personal space or our requests for him to go away. Eventually Rene gave him an old fishing hook and he took off, not saying thanks, like he was expecting more. This is the first negative interaction we've had – and it's a shame that it just happened to be with a Muslim! Yamdena island is predominantly Christian – a rarity in Indonesia. Then we had a guy who spoke some English. He sat on a long boat filled with a white seaweed that Rene things is Agar. We traded him a handfull of the stinky stuff for another bag of clothes.
This seaweed is used to make sweets!
Then he told us his sister was really sick, she was vomiting 'yellow and red'. Could he please have some medicine? This illness sounded pretty bad so I went inside and dug out some electrolyte powder for him. In the meantime, he had asked Rene for rice, swimming goggles, books, pens, the sunglasses from his face etc. He took the medicine and promised to return with some bananas for us but never did (we found out from friends that stayed another day that he returned the next day). The final guy wanted to trade some fish teeth for pens. In the end, we gave him a pair of prescription sunglasses we were given at an Optometrist in Maryborough. We tried to explain that the glasses were for someone with sick eyes but as soon as this guy tried them on, he was off. Probably to show his mates his new cool look. These transactions amounted to the better part of the day. It was after midday by the time they'd left us alone long enough to eat breakfast.
I went over to Freycinet where they kindly let me type an email to Mum (they, like many other yachties, use an email service than runs through their HF radio). I also discovered what to say in future when the locals try to board our boat uninvited, 'Maaf tidak boleh' (sorry, not allowed). We plan on using that phrase along with a few others next time.
Water sports at Wotap - first swim for all of us!
The afternoon melts away on the beach with everyone for a BBQ and swim. I'd mentioned previously that we are on a tight budget, and so when we rocked up to the pot-luck BBQ with coconut flesh and seaweed, some of our fellow cruisers must have thought we're really doing it tough! The coconut is really nice grilled (even better fried) while the seaweed is inedible. A bunch of us had our first swim since Lizard Island – the water was incredibly salty but cool and fun as we threw a ball around and generally had a good time chatting and relaxing in the sun.
Our unique BBQ contribution :)
Yachties gathered for a lunchtime BBQ
Back onboard Anima, we busied ourselves preparing to sail to Banda.
We are all still reeling from the tour – it was full-on for us Westerner's – so used to personal space. We potter about slowly fixing a few things on the boat. We feel guilty for not going in for a tour of some of the local schools but we're just too tired. Eventually we head in to complete more paperwork – this time port clearance. We have our first restaurant meal with friends from the catamaran Malonga. It comes to AUD$3 each. Penny and I buy fresh food and fruit at the local berapa (markets). We use one stallholders request for photo's as a haggling technique and are amazed at how cheap the bananas are. They're probably even cheaper for the locals. Rene discovered that we were all being charged 4000Rp for bottled water while the locals pay 1200Rp.
Street scene, Saumlaki (the hotel is not yet open and is the newest building)
Rene buys some stainless steel rod which he has fashioned into our new Aries windvane blade. The wooden versions keep snapping off, despite all our careful designs, cutting, sanding and painting. He also tries to fix his phone as it's not connecting to the internet. We buy more phone credit too. Our first lot ran out fast as one phone call to Australia lasting 49 seconds cost me $3. It takes us all a few days to work out what codes to use for text messages to get through to Australia. No internet but at least we've been able to communicate with our families through text messages.
We fill up our jerry cans with water that we're assured is safe for drinking and two of the guides, Bobby and Nellis, who were helping out come over to the boat with us for a brief visit. Bobby had been offered to visit an American yacht but had been too scared to get in the dinghy as he can't swim. We convinced him it would be fine – he was freaking out a bit on the way but really loved it once he'd faced the fear.
Bobby and Nellis in our dinghy
After pouring 60 litres of Saumlaki water into our tanks, we find that it might not be a clean as we were told. I'm glad I convinced Rene to only fill our forward (bathroom) tank. I mix up a bleach solution which is poured into the tanks to purify the water for our sensitive Western bellies.
Penny and I smiling (though this pic is out at sea)
In the afternoon we learn of a party that has been organised for us. Most of the yachts have already left (having not been told of the party early enough) but those still here all attend the special evening. Again we feel unworthy of the generosity. All we did was sail here and we have received so much hospitality – like we're famous or something! We watch more traditional dances and are invited to participate. Dancing soon becomes the theme of the evening as we are invited repeatedly to perform. Rene and I win a competition of their traditional dance against the other yachties (I reckon it's cause we've had so much practice!). Our prize is small wooden carvings on key rings. We're also given other gifts. The yachtie women all receive tall wooden carvings (mine is of a farming woman proferring an offering) and the men all receive colourful scarves. More dancing and singing continues into the night. As it wraps up, the other yachties all quickly slip away after a few photos. Somehow we end up staying for what seems like an eternity for hundreds more photos with everyone. The local navy had arrived just hours before and of course, all want photos with Penny and I. My face hurts from smiling.
We plan to take Fidel on a sail with us to his mother's village (as a thank-you for all the help he gave us) but decide against it when we realise how far away it is. Instead, we invite him for a special pancake breakfast. He tries one last time to help Rene fix his phone for internet access with Mr Faeki but still no success.
Arui village dog
We learn the reason for a large motorbike procession Rene had observed while in town – there is a rabies outbreak in one of the villages on Yamdena. Every dog must be killed within the next two days or the army will do so. Time to leave! We're the second last to depart Saumlaki after labouriously hauling up our 90 metres of chain.
As with all of the events organised for us in Saumlaki, we heard of the tour by chance, the night beforehand. Normally we shy away from tours but due to the amazing welcome and hospitality we'd so far experienced, we felt like we should show our support by attending. We left Anima early, met Fidel (our new Indonesian friend who is quite fluent in English and is one of the guides) who took us to his Chinese friend's (Mr Fae-ki) store where we bought a new mobile phone, sim card and credit for about $50 AUD. We were impressed by the advertising on the box of a maniacal-looking man with smoke coming out of his hands. Fidel explained that he is a famous, strong magician and so our phone is meant to be strong also. The idea was that this phone would allow us to access the internet but so far we've had no signal. Back at the ferry house, four small busses were waiting, and people were gathering for the tour. I was worried at the number of Police – about 20! They escorted us the whole way – in an open truck at the front of the convoy with a siren blaring. Apparently we had nothing to worry about but I wonder why so many were necessary. Fidel taught Penny some nursery songs to help her remember Bahasa words – then, on the bus, he directed her to sit at the front with him. Penny has a boyfriend in Sydney but it didn't stop Fidel falling for her! The tour eventually began. We bumped through Saumlaki – seeing all sorts of amazingly different people, places, activities etc. along the way. Just out of town (only a 10 minute drive) we stopped at a church and monument (most of Yamdena is Christian with only one village in the north being predominantly Muslim) that was constructed to commemorate the Dutch missionaries who came to Saumlaki in 1909 and brought with them their religion. Back on the bus, we drove for 2 hours through a winding, sometimes quite bumpy road through a few small villages (and lots of banana and coconut trees) towards Arui village.
5000 Rupiah for a whole bunch!!
Along the way we learnt that the Indonesian Government had a deal with Australia a couple of years ago to trade bananas. So, the farmers all had to plant hundreds of banana trees. Before the deal went ahead though, the local government changed at the next election (through some corrupt tactics we've heard) and the new leader, not wanting to be seen to simply follow the old leader's plans, scapped the deal. So now Yamdena has a massive surplus of bananas (we bought a huge bunch of 12 bananas for 50cents at the market in Saumlaki) while Australia doesn't have enough (when we left Darwin, the price was at $16 per kilo). Rene thought of filling our yacht with bananas and heading back to Australia to make a small fortune – until I reminded him that quarantine would just destroy them all and we'd probably get a fine. Such is the crazy world we live in!
As we slowly lurched into Arui village, we were informed that we were the first group of Sail Indonesia participants to visit here. In fact, the village rarely has white visitors. Villagers waved at us from their houses, gates and the roadside and when we arrived, a group of middle-aged to elderly women greeted us with a welcome song and dance. They grabbed the women from the tour (as always, I was first to be grabbed – probably due to my super white skin?) by our hands and we were danced further into the village. There, we were met with another group of women and men all in traditional costume who completed traditional dances and songs which basically translated as a welcome to us. The villagers were crowded around and were taking just as many (if not more) photographs than we were (using their mobile phones mostly).
Arui village welcoming ceremony
We were then led into the head chief's house where we all sat, squashed together on the floor while the local kids pressed their faces against the glass/empty panes of the windows – staring at us. The head master of the village said some prayers and we had to drink Sopi from the same coconut shell vessel. I tried to shy away and refuse the offering but it wasn't an option. Sopi is VERY strong and burns all the way down. Next, a woman came around and pressed some nut-like colourful things into our palms which we had to eat. I chewed the green one twice and immediately regretted doing so. My mouth filled with disgusting bitter saliva and I desperately needed to spit. Being squashed together on the floor, I had only one option – I zipped open my backpack and spat. Others around me were in varying degrees of discomfort. Some valiantly pushed on and swallowed the disgusting stuff while others simply pretended. I learnt afterwards that it was 'Pinang dan sirih' or what we know as 'beetlenut'.
Pinang dan sirih
Next we proceeded outside and into a "boat" they had constructed out of palm fronds. We were walked along inside the boat, as people on the edges had to 'paddle' and women in the front threw water over us repeatedly (my poor video camera took a few splashes before I realised the water wasn't going to stop!). Singing and dancing and chaos continued. We were now at a cooking pit where some women started a circular dance around and around the smouldering earth. After I don't know how long, the women closest in, crouched down and dug the earth away, revealing a huge amount of banana leaves bound together containing food.
Arui village food dance
The heat pressed out towards us and we were handed a cardboard box full of rice, tempeh, veggies and other things (I would have preferred some of the freshly baked food!). We realised that we were expected to eat this but weren't hungry. Hundreds of village children surrounded us, staring, giggling and taking photos. Rene and I were away from the rest of the tour group, completely surrounded by the locals. I managed to force down a coupld of mouthfulls of rice before finally a small child accepted my food box (I offered it to half a dozen kids before one was brave enough to accept my offer). I just couldn't fathom eating such a huge amount of food while the locals all stood around watching. I felt bad, like we were being greedy westerners but later found out that they had all already eaten (as we'd arrived hours later than they'd expected us to). Mobs of kids pressed in on us, gesturing to take our picture as they posed with us. It was mostly teenage boys who wanted photos of Penny and I (apparently they print them out later and stick them on their walls). Some kids were brave enough to practice their English to say 'hello, what is your name?'. Mostly though – it was just crazy chaos of kids everywhere all wanting my photo.
Arui village kids watching us eat!
I had one eye on the few mangy dogs that were hanging around (more on rabies later) then some kids brought a large parrot out on a branch. Its tail feathers were tied up with a rubber band. Rene practiced his newly learnt word 'enak', while pointing to the bird. The locals all laughed at him and it wasn't until that night that Rene discovered that he'd been pointing at all sorts of things saying 'enak' thinking it meant 'beautiful', when really he was saying 'delicious!'.
'Enak' heheheheh
We were told to walk to the stone boat on a hill above the village. My progress was slow as I had a mob of locals constantly surrounding me. In particular, there were three young girls who didn't leave my side. They stared at me constantly, when I'd look down towards them, they'd giggle shyly and smile. I tried to play with them a little by racing them and pulling silly faces.
Arui village mob - can you spot me?
It was hot in the sun and I was paranoid about mosquitos (we have malaria prevention medicine but because we'll be travelling through Indonesia for 3 months, aren't taking it for fear of crazy side-effects from long-term use). I was continuously looking around and down to my ankles to make sure I wasn't about to get malaria from a rogue mozzie. The village kids seemed innocent enough, but I was also very aware of my backpack which contained precious things like my video camera and passport. The stone boat was pretty amazing but the history of it was not communicated very well. I found out afterwards that the village used to be build up high on the hill (we figure it would be a much safer spot from tsunami's) until a girl accidentally burnt down the village. Her penance was for her family to build the stone boat in place of the village while everyone else moved down to the foreshore.
Ancient carving at Arui village stone boat
Fidel with ship's figurehead.
The stone boat became a place of ceremony and important meetings. On some of the stones were ancient carvings and the figurehead was bound with human hair. Much of the meaning of this was not explained. It was time to leave and we were once again escorted out – I don't know how this always happened to me, but somehow I ended up holding hands with the singing/dancing women all the way back to the bus (which was already full of everyone else). Desperate for the toilet, I was allowed into one of the village houses. It was very sparcely furnished and dark – no light in the toilet at all. Negotiating my fisherman pants was interesting!
The bus ride back was peppered with three further stops. The first was another small village who just wanted to do a welcome dance and song. You guessed it, I was one of the first chosen to join their dancing circle. (I wouldn't have minded so much if it wasn't for the weird itchy, burning rash that I now have along my inner right forearm. I'm convinced that I caught it from one of the villagers who took my hand or who hugged up to me for one of the hundreds of photos I've starred in while here). These dancing women were so joyous – they smiled and laughed and had fun!
Happy village dancers.
Next stop was a road-side Sopi brewing hut. I'm pretty sure it was illegal but the cops weren't bothered. By this time it was near dusk and as we walked through palm tree forest, I plied on the Rid to try and repell those nasty mosquitos. We learnt about how the Sopi is made and Rene bought a bottle of the toxic stuff for about $3. Just smelling it makes the hairs in my nose shrivel up – I'm not keen to drink any more than I've had to already in the welcome ceremonies.
Illegal Sopi making in Saumlaki
The final stop was a series of giant sculptures of Jesus. By this stage everyone was absolutely exhausted but we trudged out of the bus and over to the statues obligingly. I grimaced for another 20 photos and then fell back in my seat, wanting some quiet but instead having to listen to Indonesian pop music at full ball in the bus.
Giant Jesus monument!
We arrived back at the ferry house after dark. What a tour! The Indonesian's certainly know how to show their welcome. Fidel, our guide, finished off by apologising for anything that had occured which we might not have liked. It seems to be their way – to apologise just in case. We had an amazing day. It could have easily been spread out over a couple. The tide was really low and everyone's dinghy's had trouble getting back out. We had left our dinghy tied up at the hotel in town and so had another 2 hours to wait for the water to rise enough for us to go home. I had stomach cramps probably from only eating a small handfull of rice. Fidel and Nellis found us and chatted to us while we waited, despite us telling them they didn't have to. We did some yoga on the wooden boards of the hotel front and Penny taught Fidel how to Salsa (no wonder he has a crush on her!). It was after 9pm when we finally were able to return to our home and eat a sandwhich before collapsing, exhausted.
Selamat Pagi! I'm quickly learning that I need to learn much more Bahasa Indonesia if I'm going to survive for the next three months. The few words I do know are not enough to get by and despite many of the Indonesians we meet wanting to practice their English, a lot is left misunderstood. After anchoring in Saumlaki, we quickly tidied up the chaos of our boistrous sail here and prepared the paperwork required by the local authorities. Just as we'd completed this, quarantine and customs officials arrived and came a'board. In our over-tired state, it was quite overwhelming to have 10 officials in our home.
Customs in Saumlaki
We filled out their many forms, answered their questions and refused their request for a bottle of whiskey! They half-heartedly opened some of our cupboards to look around for who-knows-what and Debbie, the quarantine lady (who is actually a fully-trained doctor) taught Penny and I some Bahasa Indonesia words. After they'd gone, we all collapsed and slept for a few hours of very-much-needed sleep. We awoke to the sounds of muslim prayers drifting out across the bay through loudspeakers.
What we thought would be a quick sign and stamp scenario (as we had to complete some additional arrival procedures), instead became an hour-long process of signing forms, stamps, questions, confusion and more Bahasa Indonesia lessons. We were a bit under-prepared and didn't have all of the paperwork they needed. I saw a mozzie come close and then got paranoid that one had bitten me. We decided to head back to Anima, put up the mozzie screens and make one last green salad out of our trusted Australian fresh food. Sleep came easily to the exhausted crew of Anima.
Rene anchoring dinghy in Saumlaki.
We awoke a little groggy and I was nervous about what it was going to be like here in Saumlaki – a pretty remote island in far East Indonesia. The initial thrill had worn off and now I was worried about how we were going to survive for three months in such a different culture. I had a headache and was already worrying about getting Giardia and other stomach bugs from eating/drinking local food/water. Not really a good mind-state to be in for a traveller! (I think I was still tired from the rough crossing really).
George opens the welcoming ceremony.
We arrived at the ferry building where all of the other 30-odd sailors were gathering for a welcome ceremony.
George, the local Sail Indonesia representative, approached me and asked if I would be one of the three sailors to represent the fleet. As I swallowed my panadol, I replied yes, of course, I'd be honoured to. The other two representatives were the oldest man (Goete from Veedon Fleece) and the youngest boy (Mick from Our Odyssey). We all gathered on the pier and were spectators to an amazing cultural display of live singing and dancing. WOW.
Mick, myself and Goete representing the sail fleet.
A small group of elders then came forward as Goete, Mick and I stood in front. The leader gave a heartfelt speech (in Bahasa Indonesia) asking the ancients of this land and God almighty to give us their blessings.
Village leader holding Sopi
We drank a sip of Siapa (a locally made spirit made from coconut palm flowers and used to begin every important event or ceremony), had soil annointed on our foreheads and coconut milk spilt in a circle around us. My reservations from earlier in the morning melted away. How much more of a welcome can a traveller get? I felt incredibly blessed to be asked to be a part of such a special ceremony. The elders danced and sang, then the women sang and there were speeches.
Saumlaki elders dancing.
It was all a bit of a blur and I just kept smiling. We (the representatives) were given brightly coloured scarves (later, I found a woman who was hand-weaving the exact patterned scarf that I was given). Goete (pronounced 'Yerta' and known affectionately to Aussie cruisers as 'Yoda') leant over to me and muttered 'I don't know if you've understood everything that was said to us, but I think we just got married!'. He's a bit is a bit of a joker – Rene played along and said that I was going to cost him $50. Jeez!
Ceremonial scarf-making with model.
Anyway, we were all invited to drink bright pink coconut fleshy milk and eat locally prepared sweets as a band played music so loud that the glass in the windows shook audibly. I hung outside catching up with the other yachties and admiring the carvings of the ancients that were assembled as a group.
Ancients
The performers from the ceremony started an impromtu singing/dancing circle and we were invited to join in. My face was beginning to ache from smiling so much!
Impromptu dancing circle
We eventually tore ourselves away from the karaoke and photos. Roy (a local) attached himself to us as we ventured into town. We walked along a short road which was adjacent to the bay. Motor bikes and mini-vans pumping local pop music drove past constantly as we negotiated our way through the side-walk filled with parked bikes, tethered roosters, rubbish and street vendors selling their wares.
Saumlaki local kids in the harbour
Everyone wants to say hello and talk to us in either English or Bahasa Indonesia. By the end of the day, I'm exhausted from the friendliness – from smiling and chatting to so many people. It's a different type of exhaustion to other countries. No one has begged from us or hassled us – just wanted to talk or stare at us. The few shops we visited soon drew a crowd of locals all wanting to check out what we're doing and to offer their help or advice and chat. At first I felt threatened by the sudden popularity, but soon realised that it's pretty harmless. The simple task of buying a SIM (Simpati) card for our old unlocked Nokia took over an hour. Chaos seems to be the norm here. The cards didn't even work initially – we could receive, but not make calls. Back to the shop, this time with even more helpers! A young guy (Bobby) worked his magic on our phone and it works (mostly).
Roger the rooster - waiting for his next big fight.
After 6 hours in town we all agreed that we were ready for some time out. A bunch of little kids help out with our dinghy – boldly holding ropes and pulling us in with big smiles and laughter. We have a late lunch on Anima and are grateful to be able to escape back to our home. This place is very draining and I think we're all still tired from the crossing. Penny and I write and figure out exchange rates and try to memorise new words and phrases. Rene bakes bread and visits a fellow yacht from the rally who gives us their spare winch handle! WOW! We're so amazed at yachties generosity – we were offered a spare by two separate boats and had only mentioned the loss on the radio once. Looking forward to more sleep tonight.
The rally was set to depart at 11am, Saturday 23rd July. We woke early and launched into a mad rush of trying to prepare. The countdown was on my mind constantly as we hurriedly tried to fix/build stuff, lash stuff down on deck and stow things away below decks. Last-minute shopping trip at the local Parap markets to get salad ingredients was a little hyper-real for me after the two complimentary glasses of champagne from the yacht club.
Pre-departure breakfast in Darwin
All of the other yachts were on the horizon when we set out, under motor, from Fannie Bay. Initially there wasn't much wind. Our second-hand wind instrument, was reading about 7 knots so we hoisted the main and the staysail (mainly so we looked like a sailing boat!). I was at the helm as Penny used up the last of her phone reception and Rene worked on getting the AIS and chart-plotter operational. The tide was with us initially but soon turned against us and slowed our progress significantly. Captain Rene decided we should weigh anchor and wait for the tide to turn. All the other yachts near us pushed on past, making pretty miserable speeds against the current while we anchored and I made the BEST nachos ever!
Amazing nachos en route!
The plan was to sleep for a couple of hours before working the tide further along, to anchor again at Cape Hotham. Rene was to teach Penny about night-sailing and I was meant to sleep. I lay in our cabin listening to the noises on deck and in the engine room, imagining all sorts of scenarios taking place. I'm not very good at letting go and trusting that all is well. Instead, I fretted about it all and ended up on deck anyway at about 1am. We anchored just off Cape Hotham in 10 metres of water but kept dragging, despite us trying to reverse it into place. So, we had to haul up the 50 odd metres (by hand winch) and motor further south to where we'd anchored previously. It was 3.30am by the time we anchored and held. Our grand plan of using the tide and getting plenty of sleep turned out not as planned! Meanwhile, the rest of the fleet were well on their way. The sheep in me was complaining that we should have just pushed on with everyone else.
Waking up a few hours later to catch the tide up to Cape Don, we actually were able to sail for most of it! As soon as we left the shelter of Australia, the wind got to about 20 knots and our wind instrument couldn't really cope. It kept flicking between 9, 11 and 18 knots and continued to spit out these readings for the whole journey (even as the winds picked up and the seas grew). The crossing from Darwin to Indonesia became one of endurance. With 20 knots of wind, we were sailing on a beam reach but the seas were quite boistrous and Anima was tossed about constantly. This made every normal task near-impossible. Sleep evaded me – my body just won't do it when it's being tossed about. During the second night, Rene lost one of our two winch handles overboard. It had rattled loose in the bouncy seas and slid overboard into the 1500m deep, black sea. Gone forever. The next day, the sea gave back, we caught a 50cm Barracuda on the trolling line.
Rene with his Barracuda
There were also hundreds of flying fish about, one landed on Rene during his night watch just to keep him alert. These fish are fantastic entertainment at sea when all there is to see is the sea. They pop out of the waves and fly for metres – often looking very similar to birds.
The surprise flying fish!
Customs flew over us but for the first time, didn't radio in – we think due to our AIS telling them everything they needed to know. Due to the strongish winds, we had difficulty slowing Anima down so that we would arrive during daylight into Saumlaki. In the end, we had only our staysail and a scrap of headsail out and were still flying along at 5 or so knots. There weren't many ships about, but we maintained our 15 minute watches. Having Penny onboard was good – as she grew in confidence and ability, we could let her have more shifts alone and try to rest more ourselves. She is turning out to be a fantastic crew member. Full of stories and fun and always willing to help out. Lonliness is definitely not a problem with her around!
LAND AHOY!!
Three days later, Rene spotted land and we all jumped about excitedly (me especially). It was exciting to hoist our yellow 'Q' flag (to signal that we need to be cleared by Quarantine), our courtesy Indonesian flag and our Australian flag. We navigated our way past floating fishing huts and anchored with the other 20 yachts already here in 20 metres of water.
Indonesian fishing hut
Anima flying her Indonesian and Q flags
After anchoring, we spotted a long, blue rope floating about 2 metres off our starboard side. Weird. There's much more stuff floating about that shouldn't be. It turns out that they grow seagrass on this rope for eating (we think). It's a little nerve-wracking to have so much stuff floating about just waiting to get caught in our propeller!
Wow! We made it! The shoreline looks amazing, different and unique. Sounds of the muslim prayer waft out towards us and we are amazed to suddenly be here!
'Twenty years from now, you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.' Mark Twain
About Anima
Anima (previously called Anhinga) is a 40 foot steel cruising yacht.
She is a Colin Childs design Kingfisher 40 cutter rig sailing ketch built in 1983 by Max & Gloria Boag in New Zealand.
She has had two prior owners (including the builders) and has circumnavigated the world. She weighs 16 tonnes and is in good condition for her age. The interior is decked out with polished Rimu and is very comfy. She is our much loved home.
