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'Home is the sailor, home from the sea...'. And so have I come home, back to Su's village after an entire year away from Thailand, and after more than nine months, since last seeing her, we are re-united. Although I had given her only an approximate date, as to when I was going to come (give or take two weeks), she expected me to arrive yesterday, and had gone out to the bus stop, to wait for me, falling asleep there, while she waited. In fact, I did come yesterday, but close to sundown, and not by the local bus, but had gotten myself a motorcycle taxi, as I had a swollen foot from a little infection, and did not feel up to the walk of about a kilometer from the bus stop to her house. So much for telepathy.
It was a grueling trip up from Singapore to Buri Ram. First about 15 hours using three consecutive buses. Then a few hours sleep on a bench at the bus station at Butterworth, and then a share taxi to Hat Yai in Thailand. There I spent a night in a hotel, and carried on the next day by third class train. Second class with sleepers was all full. Fortunately I did have a seat, but even so it was cramped sitting, and not conducive to getting any sleep. It was alright on the train as long as the evening lasted, as I was drinking 'Mekong' (rice whiskey) with a couple of Thai fellow passengers. We had a pretty good time together. But this could not be kept up all night, and one had to try to get some sleep sometime before the morning.
Here in the village things are much the same as they used to be a year ago. I do notice though, that a few new houses are being built. One of the worst droughts of the century, which is affecting many parts of Thailand, does not seem to have any effect in this village. There is income here from other sources, at least two of the houses are being built by 'farangs' for their Thai girl friends or wives. There also is no water shortage, as there is in other parts of the country, and the soil in the fields is not cracked up, like I have seen in pictures. Soon the rains will start again, and the cycle of planting, growing and harvesting the rice will begin once more.
Previous to travelling up this way, I had spend a day and two nights
in Singapore, buying a new automatic pilot, after I had given up repairing
the one that came with the boat. Now it will be less frustrating to steer
the boat while under power. Today was shopping day in town. I spent some
of the interest money, my funds had earned here on the bank, while I was
away from Thailand. It truly is like a homecoming, to see the familiar
sights again, the familiar faces, to expose yourself to the easygoing manners
of the people. However, it is hot this time of year before the rains, and
one eagerly awaits the night. The day after tomorrow we shall get on our
way back to Kota Kinabalu, to continue my, now our, voyage. From now on
I shall not be alone, and will be able to share the joys of living and
travelling on the boat with Su. She is looking forward to this new experience.
After nine months in the village, it will be like a holiday for her, a
honeymoon almost one might say.
21 May 1992, Kota Kinabalu
Yes, a honeymoon it certainly is. After another laborious journey south, first by train to Bangkok, then by bus and share taxi to Kuala Lumpur, we arrived here two days ago on the 'red-eye' special flight from Kuala Lumpur. Su is taking well to living on the boat. She is still wondering how it will be when there are big waves, whether she will get seasick. But it never blows hard in this part of the world. Most of the time we shall be along the coast anyway. There will be only some 350 miles across open water between Borneo and Singapore. It is so very nice to have company, to have help in cooking the food, washing the dishes and doing the many small things around the boat, and to be able to look at a smiling face, whenever one feels the inclination.
The batteries on the boat were dead flat, when we returned, so a day was spent to re-charge them, so that the engine would start. Then there were other things to do, like renewing my aerial for the ham radio, rigging up a sun roof, which can serve as a water catcher also, when it rains, which it does often now, as the southwest monsoon has started for good.
Tomorrow I shall go to Immigration and the port captain's office, to
get my clearance papers for my next port, Labuan, and the day after we
shall set off in the morning to make our way southwest along the coast
towards Singapore.
23 May 1992, Pulau Tiga (Tiga Island)
Tonight we are anchored at this beautiful island a few miles off the Borneo coast and some 30 miles out from Kota Kinabalu. Yesterday I did our last minute shopping and got our port clearance and immigration stamps. In Malaysia they are rather strict. As you go from port to port you leave and re-enter the country, each time getting new stamps in your passport. So tonight we are officially out of the country, as this island is uninhabited. However, that did not prevent us from going ashore for a walk on the beach.
Yesterday as I went into town, the monsoon clouds were rolling in from the sea meeting up with the thunderclouds from the mountains inland. The result was a day long downpour with only brief dry intervals. As I was biking into town, I got thoroughly wet, but it was warm, so I did not catch a cold. Su had elected to stay on the boat, and take it easy.
This morning dawned bright and clear, and the sun stayed out all day, as we were sailing along the coast. I had the engine on for most of the six hour trip together with the Genoa and the mainsail. The engine was just ticking over lightly, giving us the extra speed needed to make an average five knots. I had changed the spark plugs two days ago, and had noticed that the gap on the old ones was much too wide. When I bought new ones, I also bought a gauge to measure the gap, and now with the new plugs set to the correct gap, the engine just runs as smoothly as can be.
But one problem corrected another crops up. It seems that my refrigerator does not work. The motor is running and uses current, but the plates are not getting cold. Well, there is another thing to look into. The new autopilot works like a charm though. I also solved the problem with the outboard motor for the dinghy. It seems, if I religiously shut off the gas supply each time before I stop the motor, even if it is for a couple of minutes only, there is no problem starting it afterwards. So, no more rowing to shore. Before the engine was flooding each time, and I could never get it started again.
Radio reception has been varied the last few days. Yesterday was quite good, the day before just miserable, today on the borderline. However, I did get through on the Indian Ocean Net, and last might I had a nice short chat with Ray (HS0-AC) out of Bangkok on the SEA Net. He was back on, after having been forbidden to be on the air for two days, because of the political troubles in that city (massive demonstrations against General Suchinda). Today the news are good, the 'self-appointed' crook Suchinda is going to resign after all, and is going into exile to Sweden. Even Su is happy about it. He must have been the most disliked person in Thailand, although the people at large welcomed the coup last year, which he led. But, as always, power corrupts. As soon as he got a taste of it, he wanted to take advantage of his power, and turned around on his promise to the people, NOT to accept the premiership.
I got my knuckles rapped by Don (VK4-NN) on Tony's net for having talked on Rowdy's net. He reminded me again that Rowdy is unlicensed. But then, he is an important lifeline for me, providing a connection with boats in Thailand, and a link to pass on and receive a message from Roland, my son, so that we can meet later next month. None of the legal nets provides these facilities in this area of the world. The next best thing is the Indian Ocean Net, and it has not collected enough followers yet, to provide the facilities that Rowdy's Net does. Also propagation on the Indian Ocean Net is often marginal, while on Rowdy's Net it is always perfect. So what am I to do?
Now after another good Thai meal, some rum with orange juice and an 'Anchor' beer I feel sated and satisfied. The food cooks itself, and dishes do themselves likewise now. Also the laundry gets done without my intervention, and best of all, there is always a smiling face to look at. Such an improvement over sailing single-handed! In the evenings we take turns in listening to German classical and Thai popular music, both of which each of us enjoy.
Between land and sea breezes, and between relative frequent rain showers,
the sea never gets rough now, there is plenty of fresh water, and it is
just a pleasant life on the boat. This anchorage is peaceful, and the boat
just rocks gently, waiting for the sea breeze to change to the land breeze
later during the night. And breezes they are, not strong winds, just a
gentle flow of air, providing a cooling effect without building up any
kind of sea.
24 May 1992, Pulau Tiga
It is going to be another beautiful day. It had rained hard again towards morning, and as the sun rises there are fantastic cloud shapes over the mountains inland. I am having my cup of coffee together with some pastry I bought yesterday at the hotel bake shop, and am listening to Bach's Cantata # 80 'Wachet auf', intermixed with the singing of birds from shore. Su is fishing again, the same as she was last night. She has some real bait, some small fish, which we caught yesterday in plastic bags, into which we had put some chicken skin. But, as last night, the fish do not feel like biting. So it seems, there will be no fish for supper tonight.
I think I shall resign myself to motoring most of the way to Singapore. Sure, during the day the sea breeze develops, and combining with the southwest monsoon winds becomes a west northwesterly wind, into which one can tack in the desired direction. But even the combined wind is, or at least was yesterday, too weak for the boat to make more than two knots. On the longer stretches between harbours we shall have to make do with sailing, as my supply of gasoline is not sufficient. I had hoped for the land breeze during the night, which is virtually from behind, to move us some distance, but last night there was none to speak off.
Su is just delightful to have on the boat. She enjoys the little things,
and cheerfully puts up with the more difficult parts of life at sea, the
cramped quarters, the limited supply of fresh water. Right now she is taking
her shower in the dinghy, as a lot of fresh water has collected in it overnight
from the rain. Cannot let it go to waste!
27 May 1992, Off the Brunei Coast
The morning dawned gray and overcast today. We are dodging between
rain showers and oil rigs. We left Labuan yesterday morning under a brilliant
blue sky, after having stocked up with fresh food, gasoline, water and
above all with duty free cheap liquor. A case of beer (24 cans) for Mal.$
28.00 (Can$ 1.00=Mal.$ 2.10). We also bought a 4 liter cask of Australian
wine for M$ 34.00 and a bottle of French liqueur for M$ 22.00. Labuan town
is very compact, and one can walk everywhere one needs to easily.
We were anchored next to 'Heron', a 35' sloop from the US. east coast, with Dick Pentoney and his wife and daughter on board. They had been staying there for a month, waiting to have their credit card troubles straightened out. They spend a lot of time in Hongkong, and there somebody (they think at a bank) had taken their Mastercard number, and given it to a gang making counterfeit credit cards. Charges started rolling in, amounting to some $ 15000, incurred in places such as Jakarta and Kuala Lumpur. Of course, they did not find out until they were unable to draw cash advances, because their limit had been exceeded. They still do not know how $ 15000 could have accumulated, when their credit limit was only $ 5000. I noticed in Malaysia they are advertising VISA cards with a photo of the cardholder now.
We are now 70 miles out of Labuan, and have another 22 miles to go to
Cape Baram, where we can turn the corner, and will have a better angle
against the prevailing winds. Just now we are motoring right into the teeth
of it, having also to fight some low waves. So progress is less than satisfactory.
Yesterday we did well, sailing on a starboard tack for some seven hours
in the afternoon and on a port tack for some four hours during the night.
The wind had veered on schedule at around two in the afternoon to the west
northwest, died down for the few hours before midnight, and then freshened
up again from the south southeast for the rest of the night, a typical
pattern of land and sea breezes, superimposed on the weak southwest monsoon.
Too bad these oil rigs are all over the place, that gives one less maneuvering
room for tacking. Luckily they are lighted at night.
Later,
Still trying to stay away from the oil rigs as much as possible. While
I was below, I got hooted out on deck, there was a tug standing by, trying
to talk to me on the radio. They were asking me to change course to starboard.
A few minutes later, another vessel came on, the survey vessel 'Genco Pacific',
working for Shell Oil, 'would I keep off to starboard for the time being,
they were doing a seismic survey, towing a two mile long seismic cable
behind them, and on my earlier course I would be crossing their survey
lines'. Of course we complied, which brings us right through the middle
of a cluster of oil rigs. This is OK, since it gives us an opportunity
to take some pictures. This is highly interesting to Su, and she wants
some pictures to show at home, how they get oil out of the sea. We are
on engine anyway (plus main sail) so some course changes do not matter
with us, as long as we keep in the general direction of our destination.
27 April 1992, Kuala Baram, Sarawak
Sabah, Sarawak, Borneo, all these names have a meaning of romance for me, of colourful and mystical tropical adventure. And here I am in the flesh, on my own sailboat, with my own brown skinned female companion. It seems like the fulfillment of dreams immemorial.
We are anchored here at the mouth of a river. The seawater, normally blue, is discoloured for several kilometers around by the brown mud brought down from the mountains. The beach is littered with logs, which the river has brought down from the impenetrable jungles of the interior. At the spit several ships are anchored to load timbers to take them to the industrial countries of the world, and farther out to sea one can see the flares from the offshore oil and gas wells. Indeed an experience hard to match.
As we would have to cross another oil field tomorrow on our way to Bintulu, there would be more motoring, and as I had only 10 gallons of fuel left, I decided to stop here, and try to buy some gasoline at the village. It was just about 17:00 hours as we arrived, and it seemed a good idea to spend the night at anchor, and try to round the long shallow spit of land at this cape tomorrow morning in daylight, and with plenty of gasoline to cross 15 miles of the Miri oil field just after.
We are anchored in good sand in six foot depth some 200 metres from the beach and the lighthouse. I took the dinghy to shore, to enquire how far the village was, and was there any gasoline available. The caretaker of the lighthouse said, yes, a kilometer down the beach and another across the spit to the river, and he would help me carry the jerry cans on his bicycle. So, off we went, chatting about politics and the weather. I bought my 13 gallons of gasoline at one of the local stores, where they measure out the gas in gallon cans from drums. While the price was about 40% higher than from a service station in the city, I did not mind. Just to experience the walk, the local colour, and the aura of romance was worth to me the price I paid.
Tonight the stars are out again after an overcast day, the left overs
from last nights downpour over the land (we did not have all that much
rain out at sea). Perhaps the winds will also be more favourable. Today,
because of the cloud cover, the sea breeze did not really develop, to deflect
the southwest monsoon winds sufficiently, to allow us to sail without the
aid of the engine.
28 May 1992, Off Tanjong Payung, Sarawak
We are underway tonight, expecting to arrive at Bintulu sometime tomorrow afternoon. It has been a good afternoon, being under canvass without the engine, on a beam reach. As expected, it was sunny, and the wind, which had started up around noon, had remained steady. It was just a perfect sail. Now in the evening we are slowing down with the dying sea breeze, and waiting for the land breeze to take over near midnight. The monsoon gradient wind has almost disappeared for the time being, as in the morning we had a flat calm, and the afternoon sea breeze came un-deflected at right angles to the land mass.
This morning we started before sunrise under engine, having to make
a three mile detour around the shallows, which extended out from the spit
of Tanjung (cape) Baram. A lot of timber is being brought out along the
Baram river. As daylight brightened, six tugs with barges started to get
busy, going up the river to get loaded with timber, to transfer to the
twenty odd ocean going freighters waiting outside in deep water. It was
an impressive sight. Of course, all this is hardwood timber, teak mostly,
masses of which come out of the jungle here. Su asked me whether it is
going to be used for house building. To her this is natural, because in
Thailand teak is still being used for construction purposes. I had to tell
her, no, this is going to end up as material for furniture, as nobody in
the West could afford teak to build houses.
29 May 1992, Bintulu Harbour
Actually, this is the old harbour about a mile up the river, and not
the new harbour, where all the super tankers come, to load crude oil and
liquefied natural gas. The new port is about six miles north along the
coast, and that is where we were directed by harbour control at first,
following one of the super tankers in through the fairway. I had my doubts
that we were going to the right place, as the town seemed to be farther
south, and the latitude and longitude on my GPS also indicated that I was
six miles too far north. Then I queried harbour control, and they confirmed
that if I wanted to go to the river and the town I had to go further south.
So much for my sailing directions book, which makes no mention at all of
the new oil tanker port. The bearing of the range happened to be the same,
only that one was for the deep fairway for the tankers, and the other ran
parallel, but further south, crossing the bar and leading into the river.
We just made it to the bar at a quarter tide, and skipped across it
with one or two feet to spare under our keel. One certainly could not miss
the bar, as it was virtually littered with wrecks sticking out of the water,
five of them in all. One had even been used as a base for a navigation
light. Then we motored at full power against the outgoing tide, which about
halved our speed through the water. While outside, one could see all the
new buildings and subdivisions along the shoreline in this oil industry
boom town.
Once inside the river mouth, the scenery almost changed back to the romantic, tropical town that Bintulu used to be, before the new oil riches hit. There were scores of fishing boats rafted up against the various docks, houses on stilts along part of the waterfront, a colourful market, a couple of floating marine filling stations, and the rest of the shores littered with huge logs. After I had set out two anchors in the river, so that the boat could turn with the incoming and outgoing tides, I had some trouble getting the outboard engine going for the dinghy. When I arrived at the other shore, the immigration office had already closed. However, I was told that it was open tomorrow, Saturday, for half a day, which means we do not have to stay here the entire weekend.
The other yacht, which we had heard over the radio, and which is supposed to be here, is nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she is in the new port, having too much draft to cross the bar at the river mouth. I certainly am glad that I insisted on a shallow draft boat.
We had been under sail since just after noon the previous day, just
having to change tack around midnight after a short lull, as the sea breeze
changed to a land breeze. The latter normally stops around sunrise, but
today it kept on for most of the day. As it had veered however, after Rowdy's
net had finished, we were 20 miles offshore tacking into it, and had to
resort to power, to get into shore straight against the breeze. Then after
I had talked to harbour control, the engine decided not to start. So I
had to let the super tanker go in first, while I played with the engine.
After a while it did start and got us into the harbour. There is a leak
in the exhaust system, where the pipe leaves the manifold. I shall have
to get some asbestos or other pliable heat proof material, to cover that
spot. I certainly do not want to play around with trying to loosen any
screws there in this out-of-the-world place. I may never get it fixed,
if something should decide to break.
30 May 1992, Bintulu
It is a measure of how much more relaxed I am in this surrounding, that I took the frustrations of getting my Immigration and Customs clearance with good humour, even was able to laugh about it, and actually enjoy it. Good thing too, that I got it done today, because tomorrow starts a series of four holidays here in Sarawak, when all government offices are closed. At Immigration I showed up bright and early, as they opened at 09:00 hours. Then to the harbour master's office a twenty minute walk away, where I learned that I had to get back into town, to buy the proper forms at a stationary shop, then return for their approval, AND THEN to the new port some 18 kilometers away for Customs clearance. To go through all this exercise, plus getting some money from the bank, took me all of this short business day plus 23 ringgit in taxi and bus fares.
Early this morning it did not look like I would get that much done. It was pouring rain for several hours, everything gray on gray, daylight was slow in coming. Su got busy catching rainwater in the cockpit coming down from our sunroof. She did not seem to get cold out there. I suppose it is not much different from planting rice in driving rain. Anyway, we were able to fill all our tanks and containers. I donned my foul weather gear, to take the dinghy across to the main shore. Now this afternoon, it has cleared up, and the sun is poking out again. I really like this monsoon weather. It is pleasantly cool after the rain, and the sun always comes out again.
When I returned, all the laundry was washed and almost dry again, and the boat was washed down topsides. Su told me about all the local boats passing by, and waving 'hello' to her. I suppose, they are tickled pink, to see a white man with what looks like a local woman cruise on a yacht. We also discovered that we are anchored right next to the local ice plant. I went over just now to buy a block, and was given it for free, because I am their 'neighbour'.
Now after the rain, the water coming down the river is all roiled up with mud, and carries a lot of driftwood. Ever so often there is a bump, when one of the logs hits the boat, as it is drifting by.
When I was out at the commercial harbour, I did see the other yacht
anchored at the far side of the harbour. It seems, that is where all the
visiting yachts stay. Ours must be the only one for a long time to come
into the river and the old town. I am doubly glad about my shallow draft,
which allowed me to sneak into here across the bar.
31 May 1992, Off the Sarawak coast, 30 miles west of Bintulu
Now we are hove to in the falling night waiting for the land breeze to start around midnight. We left Bintulu this morning after an experience I do not care to have repeated.
Early this morning, at around 04:00 hours, we woke up to a series of really hard bumps, each harder than the previous one. This was no single log hitting us. When I jumped out into the cockpit, there was a huge timber barge sliding by. It was foggy, and I could see hardly any lights nearby, so I assumed we had broken anchor, had drifted out to sea, and hit one of the barges anchored out near the bar. The barge had soon separated from us. I thought of starting the engine to motor back, checked the depth sounder, to see whether we were perhaps on the bar and threatening to ground. There was an easy 11 feet, no problem there. Then I started hauling in the anchor lines, to see whether there was still anything at their ends. That was when I discovered that we were still securely anchored. A check on the GPS confirmed that we had not moved at all. Of course, Su had wondered why I was working on the anchor lines, she thought I was trying to get underway. She had known all along that we were still at the same spot, judging by some lights that she, but not I, had recognized. I pumped the bilge dry, to see whether water was coming into the hull, but nothing. An inspection later at daylight revealed a few scratches, one a millimeter deep, well above the water line. What would have happened had the immense weight of that runaway barge struck us on the bow, not giving us some glancing blows from the side only, bears no thinking. Something would have had to give, and it sure would not have been the barge.
As we motored later out of the river mouth, we saw the offending barge stranded on the bar. This was high tide, and there were no attempts being made by anybody to tow her off. After this night time encounter it had not been easy to get our anchors up out of the mud. There was no way I could pull the bow anchor up. I first thought it had snagged on a log perhaps, dived down and found it was just deep in the mud. Motoring against it with full power soon broke it out.
This afternoon Su felt a little bit queasy for the first time, as she
was preparing supper. We had been beating into a short choppy sea all afternoon,
the sea breeze having freshened to about 15 knots. Now the sea is dying
down again, waiting for the wind to change direction.
3 June 1992, In the South China Sea, 30 miles north of Kuching
Another 50 miles to our last landfall before Singapore. During the night we passed the halfway point of our voyage from Kota Kinabalu to Singapore. After that it is only another 550 miles to go to our final destination. After a heavy rain shower this morning, it is sunny again and quiet, just a light breeze driving us at two knots straight to our next destination, Sematan, the last Malaysian town on Borneo.
The evening before last, I had another experience I do not wish to repeat. We had just anchored for the night at Tanjung Budu at the mouth of the Igan River. The current had snagged the anchor line around the boarding ladder. It did not take me much to clear it. Su was fishing on the foredeck. I had just straightened out the anchor lines on the deck, when she caught a fish, and excitedly began pulling it in. Her first fish! She was so excited when she pulled the fighting fish on board, that she did not notice me standing right beside her. The hook (or the fish's teeth) caught in the skin of my upper leg, which was announced by a sharp pain. We immediately washed the wound, and applied iodine solution liberally. But the pain did not go away. It was excruciating. I took at first two aspirin then another two, and still I was in agony.
I started to imagine all kinds of horrifying scenarios. What if the wound had gotten infected. There was no knowing what kind of germs were living in that brown river water coming out of those primeval jungles. The fish had been a catfish, feeding from the mud on the bottom. I saw myself already, a la Tristan Jones, with an amputated leg. Su urged me to go and see a doctor. I imagine there must have been at least a clinic in the village about three miles upriver, but how to get there in the pitch dark, how to find the navigable channel in these unknown waters in my condition. I decided to wait till morning, and then make a decision. Su would not go to bed, she sat by me, massaged my feet and my legs. That helped some, as it diverted my attention to her ministrations, but the pain was so strong, it overcame even this diversion of my senses. She had her own ill bodings. She saw herself stranded alone on the boat, not knowing how to handle it by herself, away from her familiar surroundings in a foreign environment. She told me in the morning that she had cried then.
Then, after a long time, the pain seemed to ease, and finally I fell asleep. In the morning everything was back to normal. The leg did not hurt, only a very slight bit of temperature. Then I bumped my head rather hard against the end of the boom. But that was not serious, just awkward. The blood soon dried, it only is somewhat difficult to comb oneself, without hitting the bump. Anyway, the decision was made to carry on, as if nothing had happened, and we pulled up anchor and left.
The winds these last two days have not conformed to the pattern set
in the previous weeks. They are rather light, and in more favourable directions.
No more beating, mostly beam winds now, either from the north or south.
I hope they will prevail, until we get to Singapore. VE3-ANC (Art) was
on the Indian Ocean Net again last night. While I could not understand
him, he got my position from net control (Roy, VK6-BO), and I was assured
that my friends in Toronto still knew where we were, and that we were safe.
4 June 1992, Sematan
It is a gray overcast morning. Rain clouds loom over the interior towards
Kuching, but I think they will stay there. Perhaps later in the day it
will clear up. We came here about 22:00 hours last night, just under the
light of the thin sickle of the waxing moon. This is mountainous country
again, with 2000 metre high mountains inland. The mountainous spine of
Borneo reaches the coast again at the northwestern point of the island.
Therefore, there is the possibility of a rocky shoreline and underwater
hazards. So we felt our way in on the depth meter, dropping our anchor,
when we reached 25 feet depth. Previously, I had looked at the tide tables,
to see how much extra depth I had to allow under the keel. I got a bit
of a shock first, seeing that there was a tidal difference between low
and high of 23 feet. Then a little later I realized that I had to multiply
the Darwin figures by 0.4 which made the tidal difference only about 10
feet, which was a lot more palatable.
In the Evening,
We decided to anchor for the night once more before the big hop over to Singapore. We are just five miles out from Sematan and next to a small island which is a turtle sanctuary. There are plenty of turtles about, to prove it. Su is delighted to look at them, as they come up for air all around the boat. Actually we are not supposed to anchor here, as we found out when we went to shore. The caretaker of the place is gone, but on one of the walls we saw a notice regarding a timber barge captain, who was convicted to a fine of 200 Ringgit in Kuching, for anchoring within half a mile of another turtle sanctuary near here. We are hoping that nobody will notice, or if they do, that the authorities will close both eyes, as we are foreigners. Tomorrow we shall be gone anyway.
Earlier today, after moving closer to shore, still a mile away, I dinghied to the village, to do our last shopping for the six day hop to Singapore, gasoline, water, ice, vegetables, some fresh fish. I also went to the clinic to get my fish bite looked at. Hospital service here is free, as in most developing countries, even for visitors like me. How can they afford it, when the United States cannot? Of course, if you want special attention here, you have to go to a private physician and pay accordingly. I do not see anything wrong with this system. Why cannot we in Canada accept a system like this? Perhaps then, in Canada, where we do have a universal system of government financed health care, we would not get the excesses in demands of those, who do not want to pay out of their own pockets.
Again, as I was walking through the village and doing my purchases, I was struck by the friendliness of all the people. Everybody was ready to smile and exchange a few friendly words. It is a romantic little place. This morning it rained, a light steady rain. The doctor at the hospital, she had been to Toronto last year, visiting her brother in Ottawa, told me, that it had rained for the last three days. We certainly had very little rain out at sea, but saw the clouds hanging around the mountains.
I am a bit of an invalid now. Apart from the fish bite wound, the bump
on the head and an open festering sore on my right knee (another seems
to be developing on my left one), I have some sort of stretched, dislocated
ligament or muscle in my left leg. It is the latter that is giving me trouble.
It pains whenever I bend the leg. I just cannot remember how I got it.
It started about two weeks ago, and seems to be getting worse. At first,
I thought I caught a draft while at sleep, but it is definitely a physical
thing, rather than an inflammation. What I need is a good massage by a
knowledgeable person, to put it back in place.
6 June 1992, In the South China Sea, 2 degrees N - 109 degrees E
We are well on our way now to Singapore, in fact 60 miles away from Sematan, and almost out of sight of the high mountains of Borneo. Less than 300 miles to go, but it is going to be hard slogging, because our engine has finally quit. It started losing power the day we left Semantan. I looked again at the spark plugs and the distributor, and after that it would not start at all. I discovered water on the plugs then. I tried to clean out as much of the fuel lines as I could, the carburetor being inaccessible in the narrow space, where it is located. Then, when I cranked the engine with the plugs out, to blow out some of the water, which I supposed had come in with the fuel, I noticed there was so much in the lower cylinder that it actually squirted out of the spark plug hole. This, of course, meant that the cooling water has broken through the seal to the cylinders, and that the engine requires a major repair job. It also means that we will not have its use until this is done.
It will sure slow us down, as we cannot motor in calms, and just have to wait them out. We shall also have difficulties avoiding bigger ships, and this will be some fun, as we are going to cross the extremely busy sea lanes at Singapore to the other shore. There are also tidal currents to reckon with. Well, we shall brave it out in some way, perhaps we shall have to ask for a tow for the last twenty or so miles, if tides and winds are against us.
I had a message from Roland and Carrie yesterday through Rowdy's Net. They had arrived in Bangkok, and wanted our ETA in Penang, so that they could plan how much time to allow for their trip through northern Thailand. I asked somebody to send a fax back with the information. This is all going to be changed now, because I shall have to do something about motive power in Singapore, which will take at least a week. I shall probably get that new diesel installed right then and there, which I had planned on for later this year. This old 'Atomic 4' is not going to be worth fixing up, unless it means just putting in a couple of gaskets.
Another problem of travelling without an engine is the fact that we are solely dependent on the solar panels for power generation. This is perhaps alright, if the sun shines all day, but if we get half a day sunshine now we are lucky. The rest of the time it is cloudy or it rains. I shall have to preserve my power, to satisfy only the absolute minimum needs, like a very short radio schedule morning and evening, with the Indian Ocean and Rowdy's Net only. There will be no more cranking of the engine though, to take juice out of the batteries.
The ice we bought at Semantan is just finished. There will be no more. At least there is plenty of water and a fair bit of fresh vegetables. Early this morning we collected a bit of rainwater, and all our containers are now full. Plenty to get to Singapore, and have ample showers.
During the preceeding night there were quite a few freighters passing us either way, obviously enroute between Singapore and the Borneo north coast. Then, all during the day now, not a single vessel. One of the ships was all lit up with floodlights over the after deck. Perhaps to prevent pirates from boarding. The other ships were more conservatively lighted.
This morning we saw another yacht coming up from the south, Indonesian
waters. They passed astern close enough so I could read its name, 'Robb
Roy'. They looked at us with glasses, but did not come close enough for
us to hail them, nor did they respond on the radio.
We had an interesting view later in the day. Observed the formation
and entire short life of a water spout not too far away. Su was quite scared,
when I explained to her what it meant to be right in it. Of course, their
radius is quite small, and the chance to get within its deadly perimeter
is rather remote.
7 June 1992, At 0 degrees, 26 minutes N - 108 degrees E, farthest point South on this Voyage
This morning dawned grey on grey again with steady rain and a 15 knot wind straight on the nose. This is the Southwest Monsoon for sure. There is nothing to it but beat into it. We took in the genoa for a few hours this morning, because of the relatively strong wind and the waves. But the working jib just does not allow us to point as well into the wind as the genoa does, also the speed is greatly reduced. Around noon the wind moderated and the genoa is back up again. We changed also to a starboard tack at that time, as we were getting too far north off the straight route. Now the sun starts peeking out, and perhap tomorrow there will be a sunny day. I shall not have to be so stringent about our power consumption then. On a cloudy day the panels collect only a little more than half an ampere, which is barely enough to run the radio, even very sparingly, one and a half hour listening and about three minutes transmitting per day. We just need some sun for the extra needs like, running the bilge and water pumps
We experienced quite a number of bumps last night. I figured we were
too far off the Borneo coast to hit that many logs in such a short period
of time. It was dark, so not much could be seen. But one patch of stuff
drifting past seemed to be the wreckage of a wooden boat. Perhaps one of
the boats, in which the Vietnamese are fleeing their country to greener
shores.
8 June 1992, 2 degrees N - 107 degrees E
Another gray morning with light but steady monsoon rain. During most of the night it had been almost clear, but during daylight, when one wants the sun out, it clouded over again. Somehow the batteries are keeping up with the light charge out of the solar panels on the cloudy days that we have had. But then, we keep our power consumption down to the barest minimum. There is certainly no shortage of fresh water. This morning Su topped the exterior cans up again from rain water she collected. The wind is extremely light but from a favourable quarter, so we are creeping along at just under two knots in the right direction.
Yesterday evening we had some excitement. Some fishing boats were near us, one actually went around us and another was on almost a collision course. They seemed to be Indonesian. I already started making preparations to hide our valuables, in case they had designs on us. Then I noticed some Thai script alongside their deckhouse and called out to Su to come out and speak to them. She was so excited. They offered us some fish, if we could come closer, but we were under full sail with the Genoa and a good breeze blowing, and anyway, our engine was out of commission, so it was wiser for us to just continue on our way without risking damage, because of our limited maneuverability at close quarters with another vessel. They were obviously poaching in Indonesian waters. Malaysia has been cracking down on Thais fishing illegally in their waters recently, however this area of Indonesia is somewhat detached from the rest of the country and hard to police.
All last night we did not see another ship. Only this morning a freighter
crossed our bow. There is plenty of sea room here amongst these scattered
Indonesian islands in the South China Sea. So we do not really need to
run navigation lights, for which we do not really have the electricity.
The kerosene lamp in the cabin shining through the windows will have to
do, unless another vessel is really getting close. For the time, being
we are still getting our sleep, with getting up only once each hour for
a lookout. However this will change soon, as we are getting closer to the
shipping lanes coming out of Singapore Strait.
9 June 1992, At 2 degrees N - 106 degrees E
At last there is some sun. Not too strong, but it is doing its best, to cut through the hazy clouds. We had made a phenomenal 56 miles over the last 12 hour night period, and that on a tight tack with the working jib rather than the genoa. Of course, it was blowing 25 knots, the strongest winds that I have had since before reaching the Philippines. This wind was introduced yesterday early afternoon by a heavy squall with winds up to 35 knots, during which we took down all sail and lay ahull until the first onslaught had abated. Then it settled down to a steady 15 knot breeze, later increasing again for the night to 25 knots. The wind is from the south west, and on a tight tack we are almost making a due west course, which is very little to the north of where we actually want to go. I did not really sleep very much last night, what with all the jerking and bouncing around of the boat, slamming into the waves. But she behaved well. The first time that I am actually experiencing her on an extended beat, and she is performing very well.
Su is a little seasick, but she is eating, so it cannot be all that
bad. Right now we are still making good westing with a 15 knot breeze,
and the solar panels are collecting juice in the light sunshine for tomorrow,
when we shall need it, when crossing the heavily travelled shipping lanes
coming out of Singapore Strait. Since Borneo we are seeing a lot of water
snakes. They are several feet long, green with a yellow pattern on the
back. I suppose they are poisonous. Also porpoises travel with us from
time to time, which delights Su to no end.
11 June 1992, Mersing, West Malaysia
At last we shall have a normal night of sleep at anchor. I hardly remember how it is not to have to get up every hour to look out for ships. The night before last night we crossed the shipping lanes between Singapore and Japan, perhaps THE most heavily travelled route in the world. I had meant to go across during the day, but as it worked out, we saw the first ships just after sunset. I tried to tack to the south to stay off the lanes until morning, but with the lack of wind my angle was so bad that we were virtually going backwards. So I thought, let's just brave it out. There was enough juice in the batteries, to run three navigation lights.
In all, we must have seen some 60 ships during the night. Once there was a rain squall, and often we had almost no wind. However, we were always comfortably safe from collision, though close sometimes. It is often disconcerting to try to figure out in which direction a ship is going in the black night. Two ships seemed to be standing still. One was lit up like a Christmas tree, and the captain of another was complaining on the VHF radio, that he could not see her navigation lights because of all the other lights. I had to get Su's help to tell me what was red and green, and between the two of us we made out alright.
As morning dawned we were across, and I was just dead tired. The wound from the catfish bite had also started festering plus a few other ones. On a boat one has to kneel a lot when working, for added safety and stability. On both of my knee caps I had wounds. Probably some dirt had gotten inside from all the kneeling, and had infected the wounds. I am a regular invalid now. It is incredible how much blood and pus is coming out of the catfish bite wound. There is a big hole, three millimeters wide, the entire area around it is hard, and there is a lot of pus still inside. Tomorrow I shall have to see a doctor, and have something done about it.
The next night after crossing the shipping lanes we were close to the coast. The winds had died down, and we were not making any headway. As a matter of fact we were drifting back north. The light winds coming up the coast from Singapore just did not allow tacking into them. The number of times I changed head sails I just do not remember, and that in my condition, not being able to kneel down, limping around on deck. This morning I decided that we were never going to make it to Singapore under sail alone, and we changed tack and set off for Mersing, a small town on the Malaysian East coast, 20 miles further north.
Tomorrow we shall see what facilities are here for putting a new engine
in, if any. Perhaps we have to have one shipped up from Singapore. Alternately,
I may arrange for a tow down the coast, if that is not too hard on our
pocket book. The other more compelling reason to come here was the fact
that we were almost out of water, and our batteries were getting low. At
least we shall stock up on water and food and buy a portable generator.
With all the rain now and the cloudy weather one just cannot rely on the
solar panels alone.
13 June 1992, Mersing
It is amazing how long things take to get done in port. One never seems to be able to tear oneself away. After seeing the narrow and shallow river here all clogged with fishing vessels I decided that this is not the place to have an engine installed. I did not even bother to ask about the cost of a tow to Singapore, after experiencing two days of weather here. I am sure we can sail down, as long as we give ourselves some time. Perhaps two, perhaps three days. It is only 86 miles.
The main thing anyway was to get a generator, so that we are not running
out of electricity for the radio, to get water and fresh food. Well, all
this we got, although the generator took some doing. I found a suitable
one alright, a Kawasaki 500 Watt, but when I got in on board, it would
not start. So we had to stay another day, so that I could take it back
to the shop. Appar
ently it had been sitting at the shop so long that some corrosion had
taken place. It took them three hours to get it going properly.
This morning I had a message from Roland over the net, that he and Carrie had arrived in Phuket. So I wanted to send a fax but could not get through. Somehow the phone lines were busy all afternoon. Mersing certainly seems to be at the end of the world, although it is so close to Singapore. The telecommunications office is a joke. Anyway, I had also asked the other yacht on the net to pass a verbal message about our predicament with the busted engine. So the fax can wait till we get to Singapore.
This coast is not the place to be with a sail boat in either season,
although the famous island of Tioman is here just offshore. In the northeast
monsoon there is an onshore wind with waves, and this time of year, while
the wind is off the shore the swell comes from the south, and anchoring
is a very uncomfortable affair much of the time. There is really no sheltered
bays to protect you from that swell.
14 June 1992, Mersing
Still here! No wind today at all. So I started the generator and let it charge. The AC voltage was 360 V. A little fiddling with the motor speed brought it down to 220 V. Then the gasoline needed refilling. After starting it up again the voltage was down to 8 V! Also on the 12 V position it was down to 0.3 V. Something was badly wrong with this machine, so I decided to take it back to the shop once more. All the shutters were closed, when I arrived (Sunday) but the door was open, the wife of the owner was in and her son. Neither of them spoke any English, the son a smattering though. I explained that the generator was still not satisfactory. She pointed to another one, a better machine with the price a notch higher (340 ringgit more). I looked at it, it seemed satisfactory, better even, and provided it would run and charge, I was going to take it for the difference in price. We took it down from the shelf, filled the tank with gas, and presto, it started at the first try, as a new engine should. The voltage indicated properly for 12 and 220 V respectively on the meter I had brought with me. 'How much more?' I asked. '250 ringgit' was the answer. Either they had not read the price tag right, or everything in the store was discounted by some 8%, or they were just happy to get rid of me as a satisfied customer. Well, I certainly was. This is a better machine and runs much less noisy.
As I was ready to come back, the clouds had just built up again for
the daily downpour. I was already on the open water in the dinghy when
it started to pelt down. There was a lot of thunder and lightning, the
latter particularly violent, and a lot of it awfully close. One lightning
strike hit my running outboard motor. I know, because I felt some of the
charge going through my arm that was holding the tiller. It was instantaneous
with the flash and the thunder. It felt like touching a 110 V power line.
But most of the charge must have gone through the engine right into the
water, as otherwise I would not be alive to tell the story. I myself was
fairly well insulated, with rubber raincoat and cap in a rubber boat. A
scary experience!
15 June 1992, At anchor 25 miles south of Mersing
Tonight, since a long time, both of us are happy and satisfied. We had a good day of sailing down the coast in beautiful sunshine. We made only 25 miles, but we are anchored in front of a beautiful desolated beach. There is only a fisherman's hut down at the end. For well over two weeks, it was the first time for Su to get to land, and she took full advantage of it, walking the beach and catching crabs. Our batteries are full of electricity as the new generator is working faultlessly and silently. Perhaps our unlucky streak is over now.
We had a well tasting dinner considering the modest ingredients: luncheon
meat from a tin, fried with ginger cut in strips and with boiled rice together
with 'nam prik' (small pieces of hot peppers in a sauce of vinegar and
fish sauce). Outside there is a gentle rain falling, and we are just comfy
listening to Thai music on the radio.
18 June 1992, Changi Sailing Club, Singapore
Yesterday around noon we pulled in here all under sail. We had had another pleasant anchorage in front of a deserted beach just 22 miles before we arrived here. The wind co-operated to bring us just in front of the Changi Sailing Club before the tide turned. So we threw out our anchor, and here we are.
There was enough time to go into town to do the formalities with Immigration and the Port Master's Office. When I got back just before dark, I thought the boat had moved a bit. That was confirmed by Su, who understandably was rather upset about it. Apparently the anchor had dragged, and the harbour police had come, and had tied up the boat to one of the moorings of the club. It must have been somewhat of a harrowing experience for her, alone on the boat and not knowing what to do. She had already contemplated abandoning it and swimming to shore, which was not very far. There are a lot of ferry boats passing by here, and they set up quite a swell. This is how the anchor must have worked itself loose. Of course, without an engine I cannot set it very well either.