INDIAN OCEAN 19:26.63S 065:55.78E
Chantelle
Sun 12 Oct 2008 06:20
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"Selamat Datang" (welcome) to one and
all.
Although we have well and truly left Indonesia
their greeting is one to remember, not least as it affectionately came to
be known as "Selamat Bintang" (Bintang being the local beer!) Our first stop on
the way to Mauritius is Cocos Keeling an Australian owned Atol in the Indian
Ocean - more about that later.
At the moment we are on our way to
Mauritius - 12 nights at sea so far - and hope to arrive on Monday 13th in
time for Lynn's arrival on 14th. We are so excited, especially Kim to be seeing
her.
Bali seems along time ago now but the memories are
still fresh, not least that our check out was such a lengthy affair that we
wondered if we would ever get away. Our departure time was entirely down the
whim of customs who seemed to have no qualms in keeping us waiting. We'd spent
our last Mauritian Rupiah the night before and so couldn't even buy a beer to
while away the hours. Eventually, all formalities concluded, including taking
photos of the boat - a new procedure introduced especially for the WARC
fleet - we were on our way at 4pm.
We had a few encounters with "men in uniform" in
Bali, not least the traffic police. We'd been warned by our crew from
Vanuatu to Cairns (Ben and Sarah) who had lots of experience of Bali and her
ways, including the level of corruption within the force. As tourists
hiring a car, we were sitting ducks for their unscrupulous ways. The first time
we were stopped we just treated it as the "Balinese" way and paid up and went on
our way. However the second and third times and the novelty rapidly wore off,
not least as we had to go through the annoying charade of looking suitable
contrite and confused as to what was occurring when we new full well the
chap was just building up (threats of million rupiah fine and court appearances)
to naming his price. Sounds expensive but the exchange rate was a £1 = 1,600
Balinese Rupiah. Our situation was slightly compromised as we were not in
possession of an International Driving Licence, which bothered the car rental
company not a jot. We heard stories of people being stopped and asked to
drive forward and then being fined for being over the line. We soon learned to
avoid eye contact with any passing traffic police but hard to avoid the road
blocks!
The whole business of driving in Bali is an act of
faith - quite literally. The people actively and openly practice their religion
which is mainly Hindu. I'm not sure if there is a god responsible for the well
being of road users but the way the locals drive they must surely think they
have a guardian angel, or similar, or that fate will determine their survival
assuming they have enough good karma. The favourite "family" vehicle is the
moped. From Babes in arms to flat pack sheds everyone and thing is somehow
precariously balanced on the bike. It looks and probably is treacherous, matters
not helped by the seemingly complete lack of road sense. The general rules of
the road are keep going at all costs, regardless of who or what is in front of
you. We saw countless pairs of tiny feet poking out, toddlers being sandwiched
between mum and dad, including mum cradling a baby. You needed a sixth sense to
cope with the swarms plaguing you from every direction, a reliable hooter and
nerves of steel. Needless to say the air turned blue inside our car as John ran
the gauntlet. Kim was quite happy to drive but as she herself said "we just
wouldn't get anywhere!" Crash hats were a spasmodic affair, quite often only the
driver wearing one. If that wasn't hair raising enough, as a pedestrian
you were none too safe either, drivers mounting the pavement when road space ran
out. Meat and drink to health and safety back home.
All this said, we survived and managed
to discover quite a bit of Bali and all her varied charms.
The island is only 90 x 48 km and in many parts
every last square inch has been cultivated in one way or another. With a
population of approx. 3.5 million to support, the Balinese know how to make the
best use of their land, nevertheless tourism is their number one money spinner
and sometimes their enthusiasm spilled over into harassment, but for the most
part a very friendly people and love to "small talk". Family life and children
are very important to the Balinese, you are expected to marry young. The guide
books actually say it is better to have a deceased spouse than be
divorced.
Other than Benoa Marina our first taste of Bali was
a trip to Seminyak - the place where the "it" people go. It's a profusion of
life, all about contrasts from fancy boutiques to factory outlet, SUVs and
overladen push bikes. We went looking for silk and found Balinese lace. Teeming
with shops and traffic it took a while to acclimatise to the hubbub and adjust
to city life again. The noise was quite overwhelming at first but you get used
to it. We were constantly pestered by people offering themselves as guides or
hawking their wares. The refusals start off as polite but after a while the only
way to deal with them is not to engage at all - seems rude but any sign of
acknowledgement and they won't leave you alone. We had one chap offer to take us
to a car rental place - he knew a man - but when it became clear we didn't
require his services as a tour guide we lost him somewhere en route. We found a
place by asking a local police man. He was sitting in his box at a busy junction
and actually gave us some sound advice, a pleasant change we later came to
learn, from being fleeced.
Car rental deal done we headed off to the capital
Denpasar. It was the ride of a life time! The place itself was grimy and the air
thick with pollution. It certainly wasn't picture postcard Bali
but definitely "real". The locals thought nothing of sitting in the middle
of the pavement on a couple of plastic chairs to have a game of chess or just
pass the time of day. The pavements themselves were lethal with drainage covers
that any moment could and did give way. You would suddenly find yourself at the
end of the pavement faced with a precipice of a step. Our reason for visiting
here was to buy bits for the computer. We found the most amazing
electronics mall. If you were in the market for a new computer then this was the
place to buy, so much cheaper. As we were only after bits it was a bit more
confusing. So very eager to help we were passed from one shop to the next in the
hope of finding what we looking for. Eventually we hit the jackpot. As this was
our first foray onto the streets of Bali and our first experience of "stop and
fine" we were glad to get back to the safety of the Marina.
Our first two evenings were made all the more
special as we met up with Rob and Amanda friends from Brighton. They have been
sailing around the world for a couple of years now and delayed their departure
so we could spend some time together. Having been in Bali for the best part
of a month they knew the "hot spots" and had lots of advice for us. As they
are now headed up to the Red Sea our paths shan't cross again until we're back
home. It was great to see them.
Our sight seeing started in earnest on the Saturday
and we headed for Ubud, the cultural centre of Bali. We planned to base
ourselves there for a couple of days and take in the local countryside. Lonely
Planet to the rescue we followed their advice and headed straight for the palace
where they claimed you could stay the night. Much to our surprise it was true.
You would never have thought to ask, as there was no advertising of rooms to
rent. We were led through the main courtyard into the inner sanctum where our
room awaited us. Palatial, ornate and every inch traditional Balinese,
we were dumb founded and felt like royalty! Even had air con and most
importantly was affordable. Steeped in carvings of Hindu Gods, incredibly
intricate sculptures and decoration, it was a sight to behold. Each "pavilion"
came with a huge veranda (bigger than the room) with giant sumptuous sofas to
sink into at the end of a hard day! We were overlooked by the Hindu God Garuda -
god of flight (local airways called the same) who still looked resplendent
despite having a few "bits" missing. Although not swanky "Puri Saren Ageng" was
steeped in history and to us quite unique. The bathroom was a curious affair - a
wall had been knocked down to give access to a small patio - almost like a hot
tub in the back garden.
We spent the rest of the day walking around Ubud
and visiting the Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary, a cool swathe of jungle
housing three holy temples and home to the "greedy" Macaque monkey. What an easy
life they have. Armed with bananas tourists flock there and the critters
certainly know that a banana is a tasty morsel. Before you know it they've
snatched them out of your hands or as in John's case they were clinging onto his
shorts looking for a tasty bite!
The following day we went to Taro Elephant Safari
Park/Sanctuary and had a ride round. It was fun - not exactly trekking through
the jungle but good enough. The park was originally set up to take abandoned
Sumatran elephants after their useful working life was over. The elephant is not
indigenous to Bali but they have started a breeding program. It's a very
well run outfit and ideal for kids and well big kids alike! The drive to get
there was very interesting in itself taking us off the beaten track. Travelling
north we soon began to realise that big parallel ravines running the length of
the country mean once you're on a road there's no skipping over to the next
valley for a fair few miles. The landscape in parts was breathtaking
particularly where the rice paddy fields were. Terraced fields made their
way down to the valley floor like a giant staircase. It all seems so labour
intensive and when you think how much we take rice for granted as a staple,
always seemingly in abundant supply. We had a stop at the Rice Terrace Cafe and
watched the sun go down on this extraordinary landscape. We visited many temples
one of which - Tirta Empul - was celebrating the monthly arrival of the full
moon. We looked on as hundreds of people made their pilgrimage to the holy
water springs that accompanied most of these temples, to pay their respects and
make their offerings. They would submerse themselves in these natural
outdoor baths with much chanting. The general mood was light hearted and one of
happiness, people being very friendly and joyous. Inevitably the feast in the
evening wouldn't be complete without the "sacrificial pig". It was hard to
stomach seeing two full grown beasts tethered to their poles awaiting their
fate, along with a poor duck. Their suffering seemed to go unnoticed. That aside
the occasion was colourful and full of life - the different age groups wearing
various costumes everyone playing their part.
On our travels we passed through countless towns
and villages lined with wood or stone carvings. They were prolific. It was hard
to imagine how they managed to sell so many, given the average tourist was not
about to buy a 2m high statue of a hindu god. Although a small frieze depicting
the horrors of the after life for evil doers might just fit in your suitcase.
Some sculptors breaking with tradition were quite happy to
oblige MacDonalds and supply Ronaldesque characters outside their main
stores. We completed our sight seeing tour in land by paying a visit to the
volcano Gunung Batur. It last erupted in 1963 and tremors continue to be felt.
It is quite spectacular, like a giant dish, the bottom of which is covered by
Lake Batur with towering cones up the sides.
Even without making the trek to the top, the sight is quite breathtaking, having
an otherworldly feel to it. Only downside was the thick skin needed to
ignore the pestering souvenir sellers who were quite aggressive, refusing to
take no as an answer. On our return we detoured to pay a visit to a Gamelan -
music - factory. Tucked away down a quiet side street (we could barely fit the
car) it was a gem. When first listened to, the Balinese equivalent of our
orchestra can seem like a jangly carcophony, but although strange you can
soon hear the melodic and haunting sounds unique to the instruments of the
gamelan ensemble. It was fascinating to watch how the xylophones, drums and
symbols were constructed. The factory was at the back of the owners house a
traditional Balinese dwelling. Stepping through the door in the walled garden
you were greeted by a Hindu shrine from there we were lead to the various living
quarters which consisted of a number of pavilions each with its own veranda. All
the roofs had the characteristic up turned scrolled corners and the whole
place was awash with elaborate carvings depicting many scenes from the Hindu
mythology. We were given a most warm welcome.
On both evenings at the palace where we staying
they staged performances of traditional Balinese dancing. It was great for us,
all we had to do was hop across the courtyard and we were seated. If we thought
we'd encountered strange so far then we were in for a shock, albeit a lovely
one. Their classical style is so unlike anything we have in the west. Every
gesture is imbued with meaning. The wide eyed stare and carefully
posed hands, wrists and position of feet are communicating a story.
Sometimes they even indulge in a bit of slap stick. It's all rather arcane to
the uninitiated but hugely enjoyable. The costumes are very elaborate,
meticulous in every detail. The dancers are of course accompanied by a
Gamelan and together it made for an unforgettable evening. The photos do it far
more justice than any description.
Our last but one evening found us dining out at a
swanky restaurant courtesy of Anne on yacht Andante of Mersey. She was generous
to a fault inviting us to celebrate her Bday with her. We sipped our Sangria
lounging in huge couches at the beaches edge watching the sun go down and then
had an exquisite meal. Another unforgettable evening.
Our time up in Bali we set sail for Cocos Keeling
and had a great passage. Most of the 1,110 miles we bowled along, the sea state
for once being kind. We had our fastest catch to date - would be hard to beat.
The lure barely touched the water and we had a Wahoo on the end.
Result!
Cocos being an Atoll was very reminiscient of the
Tuomotos. Described as a horseshoe shaped jewel it was not a disappointment. We
anchored off the uninhabited Direction Island, absolutely idyllic with crystal
clear water and waving palm trees. The dinghy ride across was easy and once
ashore there were facilities to BBQ and party in paradise, which we did in no
small measure. A trip to West Island was organised by WARC with a tour around
the island. This particular island has approximately 120 inhabitants and what a
lifestyle they have. A little piece of heaven on earth. What a great place to
raise your children. They rely on a supply ship visiting every six weeks and to
enable us WARCies to stock up for the long ocean crossing to Mauritius we had to
place a special order weeks ago. We were due to leave Cocos on the Sunday but
discovered chatting to the locals that it was a big festival day, one not to be
missed. Only problem was the ferries didn't run on Sundays being manned by the
local Muslim community who lived on Home Island. A few phone calls later however
and we able to secure a private charter and so off to yet another party. We were
welcomed with open arms and must have swelled the numbers by double. They
receive a grant from Australia to fund the event and consequently were able to
fly in a Cuban salsa band and dancers - can you imagine, John was in his
element! The day was a roaring success and all staged under palm trees on the
beach next to a gentle surf.
Back on Direction Island we sampled the local RIP,
a VERY fast running current between Direction Island and a motu. As a safety
precaution the place was buoyed with a strong rope strung between them.
Exhilarating is not the word! Terrified more like but what a thrill. We tied the
dinghy off to a buoy and plopped in the water at first we were able to swim
against the current and go look at the trench where most of the marine life were
lurking, never straying too far from the line. Quite suddenly we were moving and
fast, grabbing onto the line we held on for dear life and waited to see what
happened. Forget any fairground ride you may have experienced this was "the ride
of the century" and seemed to last forever. There was nothing to do but hold on
and enjoy, trying to keep any panicky feelings at bay. The sensation of moving
with the water at such a fast pace will remain with us for a lifetime. It was
just a small insight into surfing the big waves - how do they do
it?
Sadly we had to say goodbye to Cocos Keeling and
embark on the 2,330 miles to Mauritius. We are now 271 miles away and enjoying a
great days sail, the first in nearly two weeks. Unfortunately there have been
several systems hanging over us, necessitating some storm dodging and the sea
has been kicking up something rotten, all not helped by black skies and no moon
most nights. Now less boisterous we can sit back enjoy more. Having said
this Kim had thoroughly enjoyed pracrtising her helming skills and the challenge
of keeping Chantelle on the straight and narrow. I guess that's what sailing is
all about - the rough with the smooth.
Well folks that's all for now - a brief glimpse
into our travels.
Hope this finds you all well and enjoying
life.
Take care everyone - look forward to hearing your
news.
Love Chantelle
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