Fai Tira Blog, Penang, Tuesday 7th December 2010 05:24.85N 100:20.63E

 

 

Our choice of Georgetown on Penang Island, as a place to visit, had just a hint of defiant excitement attached to it. The reference books had indicated that this historic town, with some 1700 significant old buildings, had much to offer, but an E mail from one of the previous rally participants, singled it out as somewhere to avoid, although not elaborating on the reasons why.

The rally briefings conveyed a distinctly lukewarm appraisal. Yet Hans off Natibou wrote in glowing terms about his recent visit, and a conversation with Paco off Nautibuoytoo indicated that the perceived warnings had the effect of making him all the more eager to visit.

Pretty much the same with us then. There was nothing about our decision that felt rash or risky, it just felt......... Well defiant really!!

 

There was absolutely no rush to leave in the morning, the tide saw to that. It was at its lowest around 8am, and we knew, from experience, that we'd never clear the bottom for the next 3 hours. In any case we had enough flexibility built into our night trip of about 130 miles to ensure that our approach to the island of Penang was a daylight one

 

As it happens most of the journey was uneventful, although it was livened up a little when, at around midday, we encountered a fleet of about twenty fishing boats. Not all that unusual, except that they were all trawling and criss-crossing our path in an attempt to ensure their nets were full. Quite entertaining in daylight, but just imagine the chaos that would have ensued had it been dark.

 

Anyhow, the real entertainment was provided by nature, with a magic light show that had it all. For me the amazing, silent, drama started at the beginning of my 2am watch, and lasted for the next two hours, acted out on a stage that was the horizon, with the footlights provided by the speckled glow of the fishing boats.

 

The night was black with a refreshing coolness to it and the stars just hazy specks overhead. A dank, musty smell of warm damp soil hung in the air, mixed in with the faint, but distinct odour, of  cooking potatoes, a strange but atmospheric combination.

 

What followed was the most amazing electric storm yet. The soaring Cumulonimbus would have looked spectacular in daylight, but illuminated against the night sky, they were unbelievably beautiful. The silent show seemed to come from almost every direction and was mostly provided by huge flashes of light encased by the cloud, but occasionally the streaks escaped their confinement, and hazy forked  flashes of white light burst into view, searching for a release of energy on their way down to the surface.

 

If there was anytime to have had a window seat in an aircraft, this was it, and I could imagine the scramble inside as I watched the lights of one sliding past with its ring-side seat. I wondered if this might have been the original source of inspiration for those clever Chinese firework designers?        If not it should have been

 

The show had all but disappeared by the time the lights of the mainland came into view like a row of distant Christmas illuminations. The final run-in to Tanjong City Marina took the boat into a passage between Penang Island and the mainland, through the now advanced workings of a new road bridge, past the bobbing floats of unseen fishing nets and under the towering central suspended span of the existing mainland link, which had achieved the accolade of many design awards, and all the while the modern-looking high-rise backdrop that was Georgetown, became more dominant.

 

 

Once we'd spotted the marina our entry was straightforward, although our feeling of individual exclusivity  at being here was soon punctured when we were greeted by the sight of  four other Blue-water yachts.

 

So we weren't  quite the trailblazers we'd thought,,,,,, but what the heck!

 

The marina was located literally just across the road from the Old Town, with the high rise stuff far enough away to have little or no influence. It wasn't long before we'd all gathered on Bali Blue for a drink and catch-up, whilst  at the same time discussing what are seen as potential looming problems related to obtaining Indian visas. However, our constricting schedule felt like it was tightening as we spoke, and even though my body was telling me that it needed to be asleep, there was a city waiting to be explored. So with Pete and J still relaxing on the boat, I headed off in search of Little India.

 

Evidence of the faded colonial links were everywhere. Right alongside the marina was QEII wharf. Straight across the road were the decaying shells of once-grand Victorian style buildings, and the place was buzzing. That's largely how it was, almost all public notices were in English, but outside of tourism, few people would or could use it.

 

This place has achieved the honour of world heritage status, and the plethora of important buildings included a wealth of magnificently spectacular temples.

 

 

 

It was exciting, colourful, noisy and often smelly, but most of all it was Malaysian and their varied cultures and values are what provoked the strongest and most lasting impressions. Little India was unmistakable. If you happened to stumble on it blindfolded, the distinctive sounds and aromas would always confirm your arrival. I thought it was great, but then that's how I felt about the whole place!

 

With the benefit of a night's sleep and injection of new energy, with maps in hand we visited a village, not half a mile from the marina, supported on timber piles that were driven into the sea-bed. Here, dwellings were linked by rickety timber board-walks and just being there felt like an intrusion into peoples lives.  At the opposite end, not two miles away, we explored the trendy area of high-rise apartments and cafe culture, whilst experiencing the bizarre sensation of eating roast chestnuts in the 25 degrees C of night time heat, with Christmas music playing in the background.

 

 

 

Sadly our stay in Georgetown was cut short. I'd  seen an advert pinned to the marina reception noticeboard advertising shipyard facilities, sounding better than those at Langkawi, where we'd already booked, but had had to change dates due to an oversight on their part.

 

An inquiring phone call confirmed that they could accommodate our request ,with the result that we left for the bottom of the island and Pen/Batu Maung shipyard  the next day. For a period, anxiety surrounded our decision, as doubts emerged over a non-refund policy. An explanatory E mail later, and all was resolved. I wonder if it would have been that simple in the U.K.

 

We arrived at the shipyard by about 1 pm, just after lunch (everything stops for lunch,,,,, told you: great culture!!) and announced our presence by radio. We were soon entering a lift-out bay full of  gesticulating noisy people holding lumps of foam padding and shouting instructions in a language we couldn't understand. In spite of all this we didn't bounce off the sides once, and were soon being propped up on a gravel surface, surrounded by brightly coloured and elegantlyshaped traditional fishing boats, some of which must have reached the end of their useful life, because within 2 days they were laying in a heap of splintered wood as the result of the attentions of a noisy JCB.

 

 

The atmosphere and character of the place was brilliant. It was untidy, scruffy and basically equipped with old machine tools housed in a workshop that looked like a '60s throwback, but it was obvious that they knew how to use them and if anything wanted fixing,they had the ability to fix it!

 

It took no time to feel at home, and by the end of the first day we'd made the decision to anti-foul and had prepared the hull accordingly, but most importantly, we think we identified the cause of the transmission vibration and formulated a plan to resolve it.

 

We discovered a small amount of lateral movement in the prop shaft due,we think, to wear in part of the CV joint, allowing the slightly out of position, rope cutter to rub on the cutlass bearing housing.

The temporary solution is to remove the cutter, and hopefully the permanent one will follow after  a visit from the Aquadrive distributors we've located in Phuket.

 

On Sunday we played, with a trip to the immense World War II museum. It's an actual reclaimed fortress built on a hill by the British in the 1930s and subsequently used by the Japanese as a POW camp during their occupation after they over-ran  us.......Quite an emotional experience!

 

 

We're now just about ready to leave.  Had a great social evening with a very laid back Italian couple, Francesco and his partner Michaela. They've been sailing for four years in their concrete boat with no plan of returning.  Meanwhile, Jeremy was making the most of the surprisingly good WiFi connection outside the canteen, on his new Singapore-purchased laptop.

 

 

We're about ready to leave now. Thanks Penang, a great place. Langkawi, here we come!!

 

Pete, John and Jeremy