To Lingeh Bay
To Lingeh Bay, Flores Island
Riung turned into a really nice anchorage, utterly flat which made a wonderful change from our horrendous final night in Maurole, (that tried hard to be as bad as Namrole – maybe the names should have given us a hint.....). We thoroughly enjoyed our day trip to Bena Village but feel the need to push west as the second half of our Indonesian experience is the half we have most been looking forward to the most – Komodo dragons, the hill scenery of Bali, orang utans and the temple of Borobudor. Off we went behind Matilda at eight for the thirty five mile motor sail along the coast of Flores to Lingeh Bay.
Doglegging out through the reef we passed the islets in the bay on a freshly ironed sea.
Looking back for the last time toward Riung.
The scenery to our left.
Reskebil trying their genoa – our maximum gust was four point eight knots........
As we neared our left turn into Lingeh a local girl overtook.
We headed across the bay toward the village. There are two choices here, turn right and anchor near the mile-long beach or wiggle in between the reefs and tuck in the channel with the locals, our choice as we fancied a snorkel.
The reef was easy to see and both my chartplotter and Bear’s Mr. Google were very accurate. The depth across the bay came up gradually and entering the channel was fourteen metres below.
We passed fish traps and a squid boat to our left............
.............and the local boats tucked behind the shallow water reef to our right.
Our welcome committee waited patiently until we had anchored, then chatted in surprisingly good English.
They each caught the tennis ball we threw but missed the football they had to share. Squeals of laughter as they dived in to race each other.
Quick as a flash they were back on their trusty steed and off to play.
Todays journey. Wouldn’t fancy living in the village on the far right..................Time for our snorkel.
I felt very hard done to as on our journey I was three nil down on the backgammon field, came back to three all and took the next game. Bear drew to four all and I was leading in the decider. Then two double sixes on the trot and game over. I was then trounced way too often at Tri-ominoes so felt no guilt as I won at Mexican train dominoes. I had clear wins from twelves to nines and felt a 169 lead was very comfortable, then I got 169 in the eights, it went downhill from there. Growl. I think you’ve got a brass neck growling after what happened all journey. Huh I say, thrice Huh. The evening light softened with the promise of a pretty sunset.
After the harsh oranges the pretty pinks and greys across the bay.
A final look at the sun.
No sooner than the sun had gone to bed than loads of squid fishermen appeared all over the bay.
The tide went out exposing the reef behind us and several ladies began clam collecting (the kind you buy at Chummies shell stand in Folkestone along with whelks, cockles, jellied eels and the other myriad of stuff that makes chewing my flip flop attractive. Shudder). As night fell we could see the lamps of the squidders and heard their chatter and laughter. Time for a couple of episodes of Doc Martin. Night night.
ALL IN ALL SUCH A WELCOME FROM THE LOCALS