10:25.670S 105:40.177E - A Life Lesson
Irene IV - World Adventure
Louis Goor
Sat 15 Oct 2022 16:16
Indonesia has taught us one great life lesson, which we can hopefully take
with us long beyond our return to land life. Bali is a small island of 4.5
million people, who live in congenial harmony. There is virtually no crime.
The volume of traffic is legend, yet road rage is an unknown concept. Our
wonderful driver, Wayan, a Hindu Balinese man, whose family has lived in
Bali for generations, drove us to sight-see, to have a massage, to
delicatessens and supermarkets, to restaurants and bars, all the while calm
in the teeming traffic, of vans, cars, motorbikes and small trucks. At
intersections when a turn is required, he simply turned slowly into the
oncoming traffic and eased his way in. The bikes and cars, slowed down, or
swerved a little to let him in - no pumping fists, no yelling, no angry
faces - a refreshing change. The road does not belong to anyone in
particular, it is for all to use together in tandem. Muslims, Hindus, and
Christians live in respectful amiability. Each person is accepted for who
they are, no strings attached - again a refreshing change. No one religion
is considered superior, all are welcome to worship how they wish in an
atmosphere of respect and reverence. Let's hope we can take this lesson home
with us, deep in our hearts, sincere and true.
Our departure from Bali was bittersweet. We had not spent enough time there
but know that it is a place we would like to return to in the future for
further exploration. We were joined by a new crew member and very
experienced sailor, Declan O'Sullivan. He will be with us until Mauritius.
So, now we are 5. A much better number for covering night watches.
With little wind, at 06:00 on 11th October, we left the filthy waters of the
Royal Bali Yacht Club, in Sanur, at the south eastern tip Bali. We motor
sailed in a south-westerly direction across the barren Indian Ocean with
main and genoa raised, bound for Christmas Island. We saw some wildlife -
dolphins, and whales, and plenty of the ubiquitous flying fish - but so few
ships or fishing vessels. The wind increased a little throughout the day and
night. Finally, at 04:00 on the 12th, with winds of 14-18 knots, the engine
was switched off and we cruised at a steady 8/9 knots. The sea state was
rollicking and rolling, making the ride a little uncomfortable. We marvelled
at the many kilometres of water below us as we crossed the Java Trench,
marked as 7,000 meters on the chart, but apparently newly discovered to be
closer to 10,000 meters deep in certain places.
Late on the night of the 13th, the generator started acting up. It shut down
and showed an oil pressure error code. Louis switched the engine on to
charge the batteries, which kept systems going, but anxiety was high. With a
2,350-mile passage from Cocos Keeling to Mauritius in our near future, the
prospect of a faulty generator was worrying. We glided smoothly into Flying
Fish Cove, Christmas Island (an Australian territory), as the sun was rising
on the morning of the 14th. We moored at 06:00, delighted to be in the
company of Intrepid, Black Lion and Archaeopteryx. VHF calls to all three
yachts raised the generator part that we needed, and we were soon back in
business! Phew! A close call, as Christmas Island really is in the middle of
nowhere, and having a part delivered here might have taken an unconscionable
amount of time.
Christmas Island was named by the British Naval Captain William Mynors of
the Royal Mary who sighted the island on the 25th December 1643. It was not
actually claimed by the British until 1888 when large deposits of phosphates
were discovered. Chinese labour was brought in to work the mines and later
augmented by Malaysians. These 2 groups make up 80% of the population. There
is a very definite China town and Malay town on the small part of the island
around Flying Fish Cove that we visited. There is absolutely no crime on the
island, possibly because everyone knows everyone! The population amounts to
about 1500. Australia bought the island for a reputed $5,000,000 and now
administers the island. It seems that most of the residents work on a
long-term contract before returning to their homeland. We spoke to a mine
worker from the Philippines, who is on a 4-year contract. The island is
actively searching for an alternative industry, as the Australian government
has announced that the mines will be closed in 2035, due to draining
resources. One of the schemes involves establishing gambling resorts.
Marginal success has been achieved with regular flights coming back and
forth from Southeast Asia.
Arrival in Flying Fish Cove, the only anchorage available on the island, was
delightful, especially after 3 rolling days at sea. The water may well be
the clearest and cleanest we have seen thus far on the rally. Even the very
deep waters of the anchorage, 20-35 meters, allowed us full view of the
colourful rock and coral bottom. We immediately went swimming in the, much
cooler than Indonesia, water. It was oh so revitalizing! There are
snorkelling opportunities everywhere. We saw a huge school of Giant
Trevallies, black as night, with large grim eyes, flat snouts, and big angry
mouths. We had heard that they can attack. We were advised to put the whole
body in the water in one swoop and not to dangle hands and fingers over the
side of the boat or too far away from the body, as they have been known to
take a mouthful. We snorkelled with trepidation but were glad to have braved
it and seen these magnificent creatures swimming in their natural habitat
all around us.
An afternoon of hiking looking for the famous red land crab and coconut crab
was exhilarating and great exercise, ending, after a certain degree of
getting lost, in the pub with a drink and fish and chips or beef and reef
(steak and prawns) for the crews of Intrepid, Black Lion and us.
Early this morning, we slipped our mooring lines and departed for Cocos
Keeling, a 2-and-a-half-day passage. We are in good company with Intrepid
and Black Lion to Leeward of us. Rob is in full race mode! The spinnaker is
flying, and the lads are teaching George all about the ins and outs of
spinnaker sailing. We are holding a steady 8-9 knots and the big black and
white stripped sail is acting as a cooling sunshade. Soon it will be time
for the drama of pulling the sail down and putting the yards of canvas away
for the night.
Irene IV out until the next blog!