We arrived in Bali four
days ago, the end of the second leg of the trip from Langkawi to Cairns.
This leg was 1018 miles from Nongsa, and it took us 7 days and 23 hours.
Internet service here is expensive and slow and so I will not be sending
any photos at this point.
Some highlights of the
trip:
It was absolutely magic
arriving in Bali this morning literally at first light at 5:00 am. I was
on watch and was startled to see a swarm of small craft come flooding out from
the shore. They were slender pirogues
with double bamboo outriggers, powered by brightly colored “crab claw” sails
lashed onto a pair of bamboo poles.
They whizzed across the water behind and ahead of us as they headed out to fish. Once at their favorite spots, they were able to literally stop the boats dead with the sails flying like colored flags in the wind. We motored down the east side of the island over the next few hours to Denpasar, encountering fleet after fleet…a couple of hours later, they all headed back in, and by 7 am there was not a single one left on the water.
They whizzed across the water behind and ahead of us as they headed out to fish. Once at their favorite spots, they were able to literally stop the boats dead with the sails flying like colored flags in the wind. We motored down the east side of the island over the next few hours to Denpasar, encountering fleet after fleet…a couple of hours later, they all headed back in, and by 7 am there was not a single one left on the water.
Before leaving Nongsa, we
had bent on the new mainsail, and installed the battens from the old
mainsail. Old of them had cracked and a neighboring cruiser had given us
a spare. This was fortunate since the Velcro tab system that the sail
maker had used to enclose the battens was not very strong and the first time we
needed to reef after leaving Nongsa, the Velcro yielded and two battens got
flicked out, probably spearing some unfortunate fish on their way to the
bottom. After a review of the chart, we pulled over to the nearest likely
anchorage, arriving at 3 a.m. and waited until morning to (a) install the spare
batten, leaving one pocket empty and (b) sew all of the pockets closed.
When we woke up we discovered that we were surrounded by dozens of bamboo structures – each one was a platform on stilts about 12 feet above the water, with a generator, several ice chests and a bamboo hut on the top. These had been brightly lit at night by squid fishermen, who use the lights to attract squid to the nets strung beneath the platform.
As we worked on the sail, one of the fishermen came out in his brightly colored wooden boat to watch us. We exchanged a few words and more in sign language before he took a couple of photos of us with his cell phone (!!) and buzzed away.
When we woke up we discovered that we were surrounded by dozens of bamboo structures – each one was a platform on stilts about 12 feet above the water, with a generator, several ice chests and a bamboo hut on the top. These had been brightly lit at night by squid fishermen, who use the lights to attract squid to the nets strung beneath the platform.
As we worked on the sail, one of the fishermen came out in his brightly colored wooden boat to watch us. We exchanged a few words and more in sign language before he took a couple of photos of us with his cell phone (!!) and buzzed away.
We had not installed the
new genoa in Nongsa, hoping to be able to get a few more miles from the old
one, but the top seam on it also yielded in one of our brief opportunities to
sail, and so we motor sailed the rest of the way with the main in various
stages of reefing depending on conditions.
We had very balmy weather
for this entire leg, no adrenalin rushes like our adventure in the Malacca
Strait. We motor sailed most of the way, since the wind always seemed to
be on the nose or there was too little to sail, although we did have several
opportunities to take in and shake out the second and third reefs. Along the way we encountered rusty ferries, brightly colored fishing boats, and a few oil rigs, providing an interesting study in contrasts.
We had fishing lines
strung out the stern most of the time, and we caught more bonito than we could
eat, as well as a Spanish mackerel and a Trevally.
We have been pleased and
impressed at how well the boat, the engine and the autopilot have handled the
various conditions. We feel like we have mastered most of the electronics
on the boat – we are VERY MUCH appreciating the AIS! Bill managed to
troubleshoot and rewire the Raymarine plotter so that it now works ALL the
time, not just when the engine is running.
The entrance to Bali was a
bit disappointing – the entry to the harbor is a bit tight, but clogged with
tugs, working fish boats and tour boats blaring loud music. On top of that, the jet skis and parasailors
whip in and out, a bit disconcerting when you are trying to pick your way into
an unfamiliar harbor.
Bali harbor |
Our main reason for the
stop here was to refuel, bend on the genoa and fix (hopefully for once and for
all) the battens in the mainsail…once again living the adage that cruising is working
on your boat in exotic locations. Being able to improvise is critical, since there is no West Marine around the corner. Hooking up to the electrical panel in the marina was an adventure in hot wiring - this panel would give and inspector plenty to write up in the US.
Bali marina electrical panel |
We got the genoa bent on
the day we arrived and found a local worker who was happy to find us a piece of
PVC pipe the next day. We boiled and
flattened one end to fit into the batten pocket and sewed the other end closed,
and got the engine serviced – new filters, V-belt and oil. We emptied all the jerry cans into the fuel
tank in preparation for the fuel barge, which came alongside and transferred
480 liters of fuel into our jerry cans.
WHEW!
Fueling up in Bali |
We tried to check out on
the 15th, but found that it was a national holiday, so we went
provisioning. Knowing little about the
city we asked the cab driver for a recommendation to provision and he took us
to the Bali version of a supermarket: Lottemart. What fun browsing the aisles and deciphering
the labels (few of which were in English) to find sugar and flour. The produce section had all kinds of tropical
fruit: mangosteen, mangoes, tiny pineapples, chayote, guava, soursop, starfruit
and others I had never seen.
With the boat stocked, the
next day we rented a motorcycle for $10 and took off into the interior of
Bali. What an adventure! Indonesia is by no means a third world
country – the cities are teeming with small, clean, new cars, motorbikes and
buses that thread their way seamlessly and without much use of horns, through
the narrow streets. We were hardly out
of town when we were diverted to the side of the road for a routine traffic
stop, along with every other motorbike rider.
Like many of the others, Bill had no international license and we were
given the choice of going to court and paying a Rp 1,000,000 fine, or paying
right there for a mere Rp 250,000. I
should mention that $1=Rp 11000, so after forking over a wad of cash the
equivalent of $23 we were on our way.
The rest of our drive was a visual delight. In Bali, streets are lined with intricately carved stone walls, stupas and shrines in the flowing and flowery Hindu tradition, Bhuddas, bodhisattvas and images of Hindu gods and goddesses. Outside the town, we drove past terraces of rice fields where people were planting, threshing and plowing. Even the banks and gas stations were built in traditional style with tile rooks and carved stone walls. We marveled at the constant unfolding of visual treats.
The rest of our drive was a visual delight. In Bali, streets are lined with intricately carved stone walls, stupas and shrines in the flowing and flowery Hindu tradition, Bhuddas, bodhisattvas and images of Hindu gods and goddesses. Outside the town, we drove past terraces of rice fields where people were planting, threshing and plowing. Even the banks and gas stations were built in traditional style with tile rooks and carved stone walls. We marveled at the constant unfolding of visual treats.
Each time we stopped, a
motorbike would pull up alongside us to ask where we were from and where we
were going – this was very welcome as the lack of signs meant that we were
often happy to have confirmation of our direction. An hour into our ride, one such meeting
turned into an invitation to visit a ecological preserve where they cultivated Bail
coffee and offered tourists a real taste treat.
In addition to regular coffee, you could sample coffee that had been
‘processed’ in the digestive tract of civets, mongoose-like cats that looked
singularly unfriendly in their cages. I
guess I would not be too friendly if I was expected to live on coffee beans
either.
Cat-poo-cino - turd at the top, turd-freed beans on the bottom |
Cat-poo-cino processor |
They showed us the turds,
lumpy with undigested beans, which are then put through the ‘standard
sanitation and hygiene process’ before roasting and grinding and selling
them. We sampled this ‘cat-poo-cino’ (as
they called it) and found that, as advertised, it was much smoother and richer
than the Bali coffee.
From there we motored into
Ubud and explored the local market, and tried, unsuccessfully, to get money
from two ATMs before hitting the jackpot at the third one. Flush with Rp. 500,000 ($45) we could afford
lunch at a stall in the town square: rice and veggies on a paper-lined bamboo
tray, topped with juicy pork sliced right off the carcass of a whole suckling
pig. We ran up a big tab with two
vanilla ice teas each to wash it down, and the total bill came to Rp 40,000 –
less than $3.50.
Then we had to find our
way back, but being sailors it was easy to just keep the sun to our right and
trust that we would end up headed to Denpasar.
We had to be back in time to check out, an administrative feat that
involves stopping at 5 different offices, all in different buildings, none of
which are labeled in English, to clear out of the port. The harbormaster, customs, quarantine,
immigration, even the Indonesian Navy all needed to see the boat papers, have
us fill out forms with carbon paper and get copies of our cruising permit
before signing and stamping all of our copies very officially. It took us two hours and we barely made it
before the offices were all ‘tutup’ (closed).
We leave today for Thursday
Island, Australia, which we expect to take 12-14 days. We are hoping to be able to sail, but since
we are still in the tail end of the SE trades, we expect to do a fair bit of
motoring, and so, if we run low on diesel, we will check into Dili in East
Timor for fuel.