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Time flies, once you are ashore. So many things to do, and no time to add something to your diary. The trades have been blowing strongly, ever since I arrived here. While all the anchorages are on the west side, the leeward side, of the island, the winds still blow over the mountains, to catch me here. It certainly cools off the heat of the day, but it also prevents me from putting up my sunroof tarpaulin. But then, in the cabin it is alright, especially with a cold drink ever so often out of my frig, which I am able to run with the shore power.
Three berths away is 'Cannilie Kai', a 27' boat from Vancouver with Scott and Jean (Thompson), who have been sailing the South Pacific for five years, and who are, maybe, now soon on their way back to Canada via Japan, unless Scott can get a work permit here, so that they can remain. They are also hams (VE0-MEA), and I had been talking to them (via Tony's net) for several days, as I was coming in to Guam.
I arrived here in good time, entering harbour on 24 March just before noon. I had already arranged over the VHF radio with the harbour master, to have Customs meet me at the dock, and in ten minutes all the formalities were over. Then I went over to the Marianas Yacht Club, and tied up on one of their moorings. But the club's new location is quite exposed to the strong trade winds, and getting to shore with the dinghy is a wet affair. Also it is over a kilometer away from the main road, so I took Scott's advice, and the next morning came right over to the marina here some ten kilometers south of the main harbour. That this is almost 20 kilometers away from the town is no problem, because there is a bus every two hours, which only costs 75 cents. There is grocery shopping and a laundry only one kilometer away. So here I am with all the luxuries, like running fresh water and electricity. The only fly in the ointment is the fact, that my short wave reception is affected by some interference, from where, I do not know yet. Scott had also been complaining about it, but had not been able to trace the source. So far, I have been unable to make contact with any but Tony's net, as the noise level is too high, to be able to hear anybody else.
On Thursday I made my trip into town to pick up mail, apply for my Philippine visa, and, among other shopping, have a good look around town. Yesterday was laundry day. I ripped all the covers off the boat cushions and laundered them, and by and large, they have regained their original rich golden sheen. Today it has been other cleaning up, the stove, the pot compart-ment, the book shelves.
Guam is not a bad place. It has the conveniences of an American city,
and the local people are generally good looking. With the closing of the
American military bases in the Philippines, there will be a lot of development
here in the next few years, and consequently there is no unemployment.
31 March 1992, Agat Marina, Guam
I getting ready to leave again. I have done all my cleaning up and repairing, but am still waiting for a shipment from West Marine, the big retailer of boating supplies in San Francisco. Maybe it was a mistake, to rely on their promised five day deliv-ery.
This morning Scott told me about the 'typhoon' coming in from the date line, he had heard about from another boat. Of course, I am too lazy to receive weather faxes while in port. Having trouble anyway with the reception here in the marina due to the local interference. But I did get a chart around noon, and this 'typhoon' turns out to be only a 'tropical depression' just east of the date line but north! of the equator. However, it is well over 2000 miles away, and shows every sign of petering out. But as the sun travels north on its journey each year, those violent tropical circular storms come along with it. It is time I got going and out of their way.
In spite of the high local noise level on the radio frequencies in this marina, I got a contact to Canada last night. Of course, they can hear me alright, but I have trouble hearing them. But then Roy (VE3-ESS) directed his beam antenna towards me, and blasted through the noise, and I could convey to him my anticipated departure date from here.
If prices in Hawaii were high, here, at least for some items, they are astronomical. Meat is cheap, but vegetables are mostly flown in from the States. A pound of tomatoes $ 3.50, bananas $ 1.60 per pound. But beer is cheap, $ 3.60 a six-pack. Wages on Guam are about half of what they are in the States, except for mainland people. There is no unemployment here. Scott is trying to stay, he does have a job already, but is still waiting for his work permit.
Guam is being invaded by the Canadians, as Don (VK4-NN) the Australian
co-net controller of Tony's net put it. There are four Canadian boats here
now. Life is pleasant indeed here at the marina. There is always a nice
breeze, sometimes a bit strong. There are frequent showers, but also a
lot of sun. There is plenty of fresh water, and my fridge is full of cool
drinks. There is also a fair bit of classical music on the Christian radio
station nearby. But I cannot tarry. The weather will not wait.
5 April 1992, 13 degrees N - 143 degrees E
Finally underway again! Neither the mail from Richmond Hill had arrived, nor my package from San Francisco with the spare parts for the water maker. Since there was no telling, when either of these items would come, it could be Monday or it could be the end of the following week, I was not going to spend another several days to wait, so I got my clearance papers from Customs on Friday, and yesterday, Saturday morning, I left.
I had left a letter with American Express, to forward the mail to Singapore, and left some money and a Singapore address for air cargo with Dave Francis, a local ham and sailor, to forward the water maker parts, when they do arrive. It is no good hanging around in one place, when the weather is changing. The sun is now well north of the equator, and getting farther north all the time. With its passing overhead the winds will be dying down, and finally turning, and in this area the typhoons will start breeding, as the water warms up and surpasses the critical temperature of 28 degrees Celsius.
Indeed the winds are abating. Where the week before I arrived in Guam, and almost all the time I was there, it had been blowing well up in the twenties, re-enforced trades, the wind is now down to ten knots and less. I shook out the reef in the main sail, and today I even hoisted the working jib as well, to go wing-on-wing. When I related this over the radio, comments came back like 'how nice, we do not know what the bottom panels of our main sail look like any more'. I had been promised by Dicky, who had preceded me on this stretch, that when getting close to the Philippines, the winds will get lighter, but had not expected them to die down already on my first day out. I just hope, that this does not mean, they will die altogether, when I approach the islands.
Through Dicky (KJ6-KH), who is now in Cebu, I obtained a contact with a ham in Tacloban, my port of entry into the Philip-pines (Jim, K3-HOY). I got hold of him this morning, and we had a nice talk. He is retired, and lives there with his Filipino wife, a retired doctor. He advised me, where to anchor and how to check in with Filipino Immigration. A safe anchorage (safe from weather and from pilferage) is across the bay at the army base, next to the airport. I can then take a jeepney (public bus), to visit the immigration office in town, several kilometers away. Customs, he said, I do not need to bother with. What a dif-ference from checking in the States, where one cannot get off the boat, without having been checked. Here one can bring in all kinds of contraband, and nobody is interested. I had heard the same thing about Cebu, where boats tie up at Port Carmen, 30 kilometers north, weekend or no weekend, and then the captain takes the jeepney down to town the next working day, to check in.
Jim also promised to bring me a chart for the San Juanico passage from Manila, where he is going for some medical treatment later this week. The strait is quite narrow and very scenic. He was also going to check for me into the cost of hiring a pilot.
Last night after I had checked into the Pacific Inter-Island Net, and
after it had closed, a station called in from Alaska, (Dwayne, KL7-JFH,
Fairbanks) wanting to talk to any station in the Solomon Islands. I came
up telling him, that the net had already closed, and we came to talk to
each other. One thing came to another, and we ended up talking for almost
two hours. My batteries were full, so there was no problem with power.
He was just tickled pink, to talk to the singlehander on this long, and
to him, adventurous and fascinating voyage. He pumped me dry regarding
every conceivable detail of my trip, the exact route, looking up each way
point on his maps, as we talked. I suppose, after half a year of darkness
in the arctic, the tropics with abundant sunshine seem ever so much
more attractive. Several times, jokingly, he said, where could he meet
me, and join me on my voyage.
7 April 1992, 13 degrees N - 139 degrees E
This is settling down to a typical voyage in the deep tropics. I do not think, the winds have exceeded 15 knots since I left Guam. Mostly they are less than ten. Some days there are frequent showers, on others there just is sunshine. Today was one of the latter days, and before noon it became quite hot (32 degrees C), necessitating me to climb down the boarding ladder, and dip under in the sea for some cooling off.
I have been experimenting with different combinations of sails, and fell back to full main and boomed out working jib, wing-on-wing. At this rate I am averaging a little over three knots, and the mainsail is making a fair bit of noise slatting around, when the wind cannot keep up with it. However, with all the light wind I still have been averaging 110 miles for the last three days, which is pretty good.
I was unable to make contact with the Mississauga Maritime net last night, because of excessive noise and poor propagation. However, I heard Art (VE3-ANC) in the background, when I was on the Pacific Maritime net, asking for my position yester-day and today. So the Toronto boys know that I am alright. Got contact this morning with another station in the Philippines, (Juergen N3-GNG), offering advice on the area. He is in Palawan and is also trying to get to Singapore, before the monsoon changes.
Jim in Tacloban gave me some more information about Tacloban and the San Juanico Strait. With four foot draft only I should have no problem, going through there, he said. He will bring me a chart though from Manila anyway. I am also invited to visit him at his house, which is only five minutes away by bicycle from where I shall anchor at the army base. So things are all falling into place as I go along. What a great thing this ham radio is!
8 April 1992, 12 degrees N - 137 degrees E
These are about as perfect sailing conditions, as one could ever want. I hope I remember it, when things are rough again. Gentle winds of between eight and fifteen knots are pushing me westward at a steady rate of some 110 miles each day. The seas are only two to three feet high, and the coffee cup will remain unsupported on the table, without spilling its contents. The meat and vegetables are still reasonably fresh, and the sun shines plentifully each day.
For a couple of hours in the middle of the day it is a little on the hot side (32 degrees C), and I spend this time lying in the shade in the cabin, reading a book and having my early afternoon snooze. The mornings, evenings and nights are comfortably cool at 26 degrees C, and I walk around all day long with nothing on, and sleep by night without a sheet. The sunsets are beautiful.
The crew on the ship that passed me this evening about two miles away was probably too far away, to notice my state of undress even through their binoculars. It was the 'Ocean Rover', en-route from South Korea to New Zealand, as I ascertained by talking to the officer on watch over the VHF radio. I just noticed them by accident, as I was looking out of the hatch, while preparing supper.
The weather is so nice in fact, that Scot and Jean on 'Kannilie Kai' (VE0-MEA) decided to leave the comfortable marina at Guam, and go up to Saipan some 120 miles to the north. Scott is still waiting for his work permit. This afternoon I had a nice long talk to Charlie (VE7-ADF) in Vancouver, a friend of Scott, who is on the air each day to talk to him. I could hear him quite well, and once he had turned his beam towards me, he could hear me also well enough. When he heard, that my intended route led me through the Philippines and Singapore, he started reminiscing about the days, when he was a machinist on a freighter (nineteen thirties), and was visiting these very places. They had people drawn rickshaws then in Singapore, and the Philippine railways were burning teak and mahogany, to fire the boilers in their locomotives. What times that were!
Supper tonight was stir-fry pork with okra, onion and cucumber, together
with rice. There are two more portions of fresh (marinated) meat left,
half a cucumber, some okra and two tomatoes, and then it is back to tins.
But then, it is also only 650 miles to the entrance of San Pedro Gulf in
the Philippines.
11 April 1992, 11 degrees N - 131 degrees E
Just chugging along. Two days ago the wind freshened up a bit, and now it is down again to under ten knots. But the boat is moving. I actually did have one day with a hardly believable 139 miles, but now I am down again to close to a hundred. Lis-tening to the reports of the yachts in the Philippines and west along the north coast of Borneo, which check into Rowdy's Net, everybody is talking of light winds or calms. Not a happy prospect for me, as I am getting farther west. There are only some 170 miles I can motor on a full load of gasoline, and besides, that does not come cheap. It may take me a fair bit longer, to reach Singapore, than I had figured on. Meanwhile, I am still making satisfactory progress.
It sure is hot during the day now. Cool enough on deck in the breeze,
but below deck I would be bathed in sweat most of the day, had I not my
electric fan. It was given to me as an afterthought by the previous owner
of the boat, who had received it as a sample from one of his suppliers.
It sure comes in handy now. I am down to two meals a day now, as I do not
want to fire up the stove more often, than I have to. However, the nights
are pleasantly cool (26 degrees C), and I need a thin sheet for the early
hours of the morning.
12 April 1992, 11 degrees N - 130 degrees E
Still 230 miles to go to the entrance to San Pedro Bay. The wind seems to be dying down completely. There are frequent bands of glassy calm now on the water. However, the boat is still moving, and the self-steering gear only occasionally looses direction, because the wind is too light, to move the vane. 81 miles only made good over the last 24 hours. Soon I shall resemble the proverbial 'painted ship upon a painted ocean'.
Just now, as I am typing this, I am moving forward at the rate of five knots, thanks to the engine. I had to assist the solar panels in re-charging the batteries. So I am running the engine for an hour, and since I am not moving otherwise, I put the engine into gear also. The glassy ocean is a new experience for me on this trip. I cannot get enough, looking at it. The horizon is so clearly defined, there is hardly a cloud in the sky.
At least I am close enough now, that I can receive Philippine AM radio broadcasts. Mind you, I cannot understand, what they are saying since the announcer speaks in the local language, but the music is pleasant enough.
Today we hit a record high temperature in the cabin, 34 degrees C at noon. It was HOT! Once 11 o'clock rolls around, I can spend the time on deck, as by then the mainsail provides some shade, and I can sit there and read. As the sun moves west of the boat, the shady area gets bigger, and my comfort zone increases.
Had German food to day: Pork hocks, sauerkraut and mashed potatoes.
The first two items out of tins. Unfortunately, the beer is finished, and
I had to have rum and coke, to go with the food instead. Not exactly in
style, but it gave me a good feeling nevertheless, especially as I did
not skimp on the rum. Of the fresh food there is only one tomato left.
It is amazing, how long the butter keeps, even in this heat. It still has
not melted. When cooking in this weather, it is almost like being in a
marina, no fear of upsetting or spilling anything.
13 April 1992, 11 degrees N - 129 degrees E
Most of yesterday afternoon, and all of last night, there was no wind for any practical purposes. I still did make 24 miles over the 12 hours of darkness, but much of that, I am sure, was due to a favourable current. This morning, as I was settling down for another quiet day of no progress, suddenly a breeze sprang up from due south. I did not waste any time, to replace the working jib with the Genoa, and now we are making progress at almost six knots in a ten knot breeze. I hope it keeps up.
I am still just over 200 miles away from the entrance to San Pedro Bay, therefore not yet in the Philippine economic zone, where they might try to control the fishing. As I woke up around 03:00 this morning and looked out, I saw a search light some three miles to the southeast. I put on my running lights, and switched on the VHF radio. After that I only slept fitfully, being woken up periodically by some chit-chat on the radio in a language unknown to me, obviously between the fishing vessels east of me, to which must have belonged the search light. Gradually, I saw the loom of the light or lights disappearing towards the east, as I was proceeding west at my slow speed.
The sea around here is definitely more 'crowded', than what I am used
to. Three days ago I noticed another cargo ship cross-ing my stern, northbound
in the falling night. Where it came from, and where it went, I do not know.
Perhaps from some copper mine in New Guinea, because there is no clear
pass to the south of here leading through the maze of Indonesian islands
towards Australia. I shall have to be getting up at nights for a look-out
now from time to time.
Later,
Well, the wind did keep up until sundown. Now I am again in a dead calm.
Hopefully the wind will pick up again at sunrise. From what direction is
anybody's guess. A Japanese (Korean?) fishing boat crossed my bow around
midday today, only about 300 metres away. I only noticed them, after they
had passed. Another thing I only noticed, as I went past it, was a double
buoy, with what looked like a radio aerial attached to it. As a matter
of fact, I was so close to it, that the buoy scraped against my hull, and
the aerial was deflected, as the Genoa brushed it. That buoy was free floating,
as the water here is much to deep for it, to have been anchored. What it
was doing here, was hard to guess. Perhaps it was one of the free-floating
buoys, set out this spring, to monitor the equatorial counter current during
this 'el Nino' year.
15 April 1992, Leyte Bay, Philippines
Welcome to the Philippines! The first thing, that I noticed, as I entered Leyte Bay, was that the navigation light at this impor-tant point (it is also the entrance to Surigao Strait, one of the two major entrance channels into the Philippine islands from the Pacific) was not lit. Thank God for GPS, which confirmed, that the dark shape looming up in front of me on this moonless dark morning, was indeed Bulus Island. Even that close (two miles) my depth meter did not register any soundings. The preceding night I had just crossed the deepest spot in any of the oceans of the world, the Philippine Trench, deeper than Mount Everest is high, and from that depth the sea bottom rises abruptly to surface, to mountains indeed close to a thousand metres high.
The south wind had obligingly kept up its strength all the way to landfall, and a little beyond in fact, with the exception of a short period at the beginning of the previous night. It pushed me, together with the incoming tide, through the eight mile gap between the islands at an over the ground speed of close to eight knots. But then the wind died, and it became unbearably H-O-T! I started motoring. And that is, what I am doing now, probably for a total of ten hours, until I arrive in Tacloban late this afternoon. Now that I have taken down all the sails, and put up my blue tarp over the cockpit, it is a little more bearable. Before that I could hardly stand in my bare feet on the hot white fiberglass of the cockpit. Of course, just on a day like this my autopilot decided to go on strike again, and I had to rig up some arrangement with lines, so that the boat would stay reasonably close to course, at least for a short time. The wind vane does not work for two reasons: there is no wind, and it was not de-signed to deal with the one sided pressure of the propeller wash. In the enervating heat I ripped the autopilot apart, but still have not been able to find out, why it is working only intermittently.
As I was entering the gulf this morning, there was not a single light to be seen anywhere. And there are people living here, as I found out later in the morning, when a number of tiny one man outrigger boats came out from shore, to tend to their nets and traps. Each one of them had a little canopy, to protect the single occupant from the sun. I shall have to get myself a wide brimmed straw hat tomorrow, when I go to town, because this sun is murderous.
Later, Tacloban Harbour
Now I am anchored in a quiet and safe anchorage, only a couple of kilometers from 'downtown' Tacloban, just across the bay, as a matter of fact, next to the airport and to the premises of the Philippine National Police. It was 17:15, when I was finished anchoring after a long motor up Leyte Bay, which I had entered this morning from the ocean.
While I was motoring, I was able to run the fridge, with the result, that there was even a little bit of ice for my drink this evening. Now I am all cleaned up, have eaten and done the dishes, and pretty soon I shall lie down, to have an uninterrupted night of sleep, not like last night, when I had to get up once every hour, to have a look out for ships, check my position and adjust my course, so that I would not be too far off the entrance to the gulf, when I arrived at the coast.
Yesterday, during mid-morning, I was called on the VHF by a passing ship, the 'Gulf Trader', an American vessel en-route from the Persian Gulf to San Francisco. He was taking almost exactly the same route, I am taking in the opposite direction. We exchanged some information about piracy in the Singapore Strait. He said it seems heavily policed now, with at least one American destroyer standing guard at the eastern entrance.