Pontianak

June 22, 2011-06-22
Cress: Pontianak, Kalimantan, Indonesian Borneo. Tis the day after skate board day, and all is well! Our new young skateboard friends from Pontianak sent us off in fine style with boxes of Bingka, a custard/egg local specialty (it was delicious) and a skater t-shirt for me. Irena said it best, “we couldn’t have been more welcome than we were in Pontianak”.

And so it was in our first stop in Indonesia. I will confess to some trepidation making our way up the river of this most populous nation, past industrial grime, hazy airs, and then, the shanties perched along the river bank on stilts, people washing their clothes in a river so muddy at least, I was reluctant to step in. But as we motored up the river past the town center in search of the dock to check in with officials, we were taken in hand by two friendly chaps from the local coast guard who guided us in, helped us anchor, took us ashore, bought us coffee, told us of their families, showed us where Immigration, Customs and the Harbour Master hung their hats and then waved from the coffee shop each time we passed to and fro all morning long. From the moment we stepped ashore, there was friendliness, generosity, and curiosity. I will leave Rita to tell the tale of Iqbal and his friends, but for my part, let me say thank you for the t-shirt Reddy, and thank you Iqbal for your hospitality, friendship and help shopping for boat bits.
Ah yes, sailing and boat bits. It was a fair bash south from Kuching to Pontianak- 250 miles upwind against a full SE, S, SE Monsoon. But I must say I am over the moon with our capacity to sail upwind. Full genoa to 20 knots apparent, down to staysail after that, we made our way windward, tacking through less than 90 degrees at about 6.5 knots against good sized seas. The rig and new sails working without fault. I was concerned however coming up the river to see our engine losing power, but after four hours sweating in the engine room this proved to be the fault of dirty fuel plugging filters (fuel acquired in Tioman, Malaysia)} . Now outbound, with a box full of new Racor filters found on a dusty shelf in Pontianak, we hope to get through the remaining Malaysian fuel. I have no more replacements for the engine fuel filter, fingers crossed, because the Racor filters are only 30 microns. The last filter we replaced was BLACK. While in Pontianak, Dennis took the Bimini in hand, lowering it to avoid the mainsheet bash. Rita sewed hatch covers for the two forward Lewmar hatches, hoping to keep the saltwater out. Irena cleaned up after 4 days of upwind sailing, got the laundry done (what a hero!) and everyone pitched in with new provisioning.

Last night we had a bit of a scare. We left Pontianak town to motor down the river to a quieter place to anchor for a last night’s sleep before heading seaward to resume the southbound bash, when out of the dark came a very small high speed runabout full of 5 men shouting. They circled at high speed a couple of times, then came directly alongside as if to board (without invitation as you can imagine!). Things peaked with me standing at the rail shouting “No, No, No” and motioning them off, but on they came. Turns out they were the auxiliary coast guard, who were very apologetic when they saw what a fright they had given us. We explained who we were and what we were up to and then they roared off like the key stone cops, climbing on top of one another, hitting something in the water that stopped them, bringing the whole show to an eerie quiet. With a restart, the comedy continued, as they disappeared back into the dark. They were back just after midnight, but came more slowly, circled at a distance, and went off in a more leisurely pace. In the end, I was just as glad to have them out there patrolling, but gosh, I wish they didn’t approach like bandits!

Dennis: After arriving at Kuching, I still was saddened by the lack of care for the ocean and rivers. While in anchorage at the lovely marina that was brand new, the junk in the river was awful. Absolutely everything was in the water floating by. They have to start recycling here. After leaving Kuching and sailing in less than ideal conditions for 3 days we arrived at the mouth of the Kapuas River, dropped anchor and spent a very relaxing quiet evening listening to the birds on the shore. The first thing I noticed was the lack of plastic junk in the river and as we went up to Pontianak, no junk except branches from trees. Even with all the freighter traffic (and there was lots), the river was clean. We later learned from one of our new founds friends (Iqbal) that the country has a recycling program and that one of his friends has become very rich in the recycling program. We noticed little row boats combing the water’s edge for plastic and cans. The river still has some plastic bags that need recycling but I think the main culprits are the crews of the freighter whom I watched throwing stuff overboard like they do at sea. Rivers here are really quite muddy looking but are probably very fertile along the deltas where all the people live.

Rita: What an unexpected gem Pontianak turned out to be. We stopped to check in, provision and do laundry. Arriving on Sunday, not much was open. However, while Cress & Irena were in the Kartika Hotel lobby trying to get their internet to work they met a lovely young man named Iqbal. As it happens, Iqbal is a photographer & he showed Cress & Irena some recent photos on his camera. Imagine their surprise when Cress & Irena saw a photo of Conversations (anchored just in front of the hotel); Iqbal was equally delighted to meet the owners of this beautiful boat. He chatted with us at length and gave us all kinds of information and tips, AND he speaks excellent English (rare in this town). We arranged to meet him and several of his friends the next evening. What started out as “We’ll show you a good restaurant to get traditional Indonesian food” ended up being an entire afternoon and evening spent with 4 lovely young men – Iqbal (27 yrs) –‘ guide and translator, To-il (22yrs) skilled and fearless driver, Komang (23 yrs), guitarist and photographer, brother to To-il and business partner to Iqbal, and Reddy (19 yrs) who owns his own business selling and servicing skateboards, and is also a tattoo artist.
After running us around to do errands, they took us to the Equator monument and the Istana Kadriyah –- the ironwood palace constructed in 1771 for Pontianak‘s first sultan. They then took us to a bustling traditional open air market. There was stall after stall of all kinds of produce and some fish. We had so much fun buying our provisions – and Iqbal acted as our middleman. After dinner at a lovely restaurant, we all came back to the boat. We sat around listening to their music and drinking “American Iced tea” (a term Iqbal coined for beer).

The next day (Tuesday) was a big day for them. Every June 21, skateboarders from all over Indonesia come to Pontianak to celebrate boarding. Our 4 new friends were all planning to take part. Even with that big event taking place, they found time to meet us for lunch –- and brought us some wonderful Bingka – a delicious (enak) traditional baked custard that is available only in Pontianak. AlaMA! (Wow!) It was yummy! And can you imagine?? These 4 young men even invited us (4 middle-aged tourists) to their party that evening. Lucky for them we had to leave ! , but not before Iqbal took Cress around on his motorbike to hunt down some special oil filters he needed for the boat.

Iqbal, To-il, Komang, and Reddy – Terima kasih!! You made our visit to your beautiful city so special. YOU are so SPECIAL!! Keep safe and happy, and we hope you can make it to Canada someday! We would love the opportunity to welcome you to our home and show you around. And we would just love to be able to meet again someday in this wondrous world of ours.

Irena: What more can I say? This place was our diamond in the rough, a very special treat after a few days of rough and tumble seas. We can only hope that somewhere in Canada, a few Indonesians are being welcomed in the same way that we were. This is why we love travelling in our unique way on ‘Conversations’. Cruisers are rare here in Pontianak, so we were somewhat treated as celebrities here. On the streets people would shout –‘Hello!!! How are you!!‘ – basically any English they knew!! It got to the point that when someone would shout –‘ whats your name‘ – I would reply –‘Joan Wilder‘ (I am sure some of you will get that).
And so, we are now set to make our way down the coast to Kumai perhaps stopping to snorkel at some islands along the way. Until then……
The Captain, First Mate and Good Crew of Conversations bid you farewell

On our way to Indonesia via Malaysia??

Greetings me hearties!

We rest t’day at the fair docks of

Kuching, 10 miles up the Sungai Serawak, a river of Borneo remembered for its head hunters of yesteryear (we hope) and Proboscis monkeys (Jimmy Durante eat your heart out). Let our dear friends Dennis and Rita (we are four aboard S.V Conversations these days ) tell the tales of hardship in the city, of broken gear, and fast passages on the South China Sea during the high season of the SW monsoon.

Dennis: After spending 5 wonderful days exploring Singapore and all its sites, eateries and getting spoiled in a 5-star hotel arranged by Irena we were able to get out to the sailboat and ready ourselves for our journey. In fact, Irena and Cress being the great hosts they are, left us with their room at the Marina Bay Sands Hotel. The hotel came complete with a 150m swimming pool atop of the three tower 57 story structure. They went to the boat for the weekend to start cleaning and provisioning it. Rita and I went to the boat on Tues night with a taxi full of food for the trip. As we were anxious to get sailing, we decided to forego getting propane for one of the tanks as it would take 2 days to refill it -- bad decision). Once underway we were surprised to see the sharp contrast between the very clean city and the absolutely filthy harbour. With up to 1000 freighters in anchorage at one time and the crews having no regard for disposal of waste, there was crap floating all over the place.

There were no birds or marine life anywhere. In fact the whole of the South China Sea has little marine life as opposed to the abundance we saw on our first passage across the South Pacific. Otherwise our sail has been very pleasant.

Rita: Ahh…to be on the ocean again!! But all is not to be smooth sailing!

Before we even got away from Singapore, Rita broke the chain in the steering column. That’s right, the chain!! (think we have a candidate for strong lady in the next circus). Out came the emergency tiller as we made our way to a grubby looking fuel boat, then off to anchor at a “small island”.

First job next day was for Cress and Dennis to fix the steering. Success! (much to Rita’s relief) Now we are really on our way. We sailed all night, through tons of freighter traffic, and reached Pulau Aur (80 mi. from mainland Malaysia), greeted by a fabulous sunrise. There are several resorts lining the shore, but it is mostly quiet and the landscape is breathtaking. The water is so clear that we can see the fish, just off the sides of the boat. We had several fun excursions snorkeling; our first day we saw a sea turtle. Unfortunately on one of our trips away from the boat we left all the hatches open and YUP!! We got a tropical downpour!! After scooping up coconuts on our way back we had to mop up and try to dry out – cushions, rugs, bedding. Aside from the inconvenience, it was nice to feel cool. We had a couple of days of unsettled weather so we finally sailed in the pouring rain to Pulau Tioman, but not before Cress & Dennis had to spend several hours repairing the throttle which had got stuck in reverse!! We anchored in a lovely bay on Tioman. There are lots of resorts, a golf course, and a commuter ferry, but the water is clear and the landscape is lush. There are trees full of ripening mangos, jackfruit, and bats by the scores!

NOW WHERE IS THAT RUNWAY AGAIN????

By June 6^th, we were anchored near the marina, which was full, as we watched several Dash-8’s land and take off from the narrow, short runway in the trees. Irena is arriving on one of those??? But she made it!! A happy reunion and a fun evening.

The next day was another adventure as Dennis & Rita made their way by ferry over to Mersing in search of propane. No luck!! However, Cress, with the help of the local marina, cobbled together some system whereby he was able to fill our tanks with butane. So we can cook (and eat!!)

We sailed 3 days and 3 nights to Kuching on the Malaysian side of Borneo. Arriving at night, we anchored off shore. In the morning we went in search of the “marina at the mouth of the Santubong River”. Either we misinterpreted the guidebook or it was mistaken. The only dock there is private and we couldn’t tie up there. So off we went to Pulau Lakei. Slow going at first due to lack of wind, but we made it. We anchored in a beautiful bay, just at the foot of Bako National Park.

There is a huge pile of boulders that looks like a male figure – a guardian on the point between the park and Pulau Lakei. The waters are calm, the terrain rugged – much like the coast of BC. We spent a serene evening there, with the songs of the birds and other night creatures to lull us to sleep.

Irena: Well I think I have finally shaken off the work ‘buzz’ and have managed to slow my pace down to almost the rate of the local Malaysians (can’t quite get myself into that slow amble). I cannot imagine what it is like for the women here to be fully clothed complete with headscarf AT ALL TIMES when outdoors. Being a predominantly Muslim country, these are the ‘rules’ (I am quite certain these must have been made up by men!). In any case, we are at a small marina for a few days, so the air conditioners are going at full tilt while we are one board. Tomorrow we are going for a hike into Bako National Park to see what wildlife we can and get a taste of the jungle, that we can’t really get from the anchorages and seaside. Then we will start making our way into Indonesia since our cruising permit has finally arrived.

Cooking with Dennis and Rita on board has been a wonderful treat. Waking up to freshly baked scones and bread is the most amazing thing. In fact Dennis and Rita are in town as I write to pick up some local produce for the next part of our journey. We will have email access for the next couple of days, so please drop us a line – we would love to hear from you!

That’s it for this installment. Drop us an email or comment on the blog, we miss you all and would love to hear from you. Cresswell(at)sail7cs.com.

The Cow

“It looks like a cow” says Irena, as I wrestled the sticky epoxy resin and matt onto the Styrofoam block. And indeed it did, but it wasn’t supposed to!

We were bent together over our temporary work table on the aft deck. I was trying unsuccessfully not to sweat into the pot of rapidly curing epoxy resin while laying fibreglass on a mould that was to be a homemade waterlock muffler for the new engine we had just installed. The idea of the technique I was using was to build a mold for the muffler out of Styrofoam, lay fibreglass in epoxy resin on the outside as a skin, and then later melt out the foam interior with gasoline. This was the second attempt. The first attempt, using polyester resin, has been a total failure when the resin dissolved the Styrofoam right through a protective layer of plastic film. The first attempted ended as a sticky lump of raw fibresglass/matt on the workbench beside a vastly mis-shappen foam mold. It looked like the second attempt was going to end the same way.

“Abort?” asked Irena, “Should we bail and save the mold?” It was clear the epoxy resin was dissolving the foam too, but less aggressively than the polyester resin had. But my carefully built mold was nevertheless melting away faster than I could apply the sticky mix of epoxy and fibreglass matt. Though it was still square-ish in shape, the surface of the foam block was shrinking away in uneven lumps and hollows. The sagging layers of uncured epoxy fibreglass hung like folds of excess skin on a barnyard animal. Even though we had again applied new layers of protective film, I guessed the mold was being attacked by some sort of solvent in the epoxy. We gave up. We abandoned it where it stood on the work bench, leaving the curing epoxy skin to cure on the mold, thinking this grotesque piece could still find a life as a living room ornament or something.

“We’ll give it a go again tomorrow, shall we?” Irena asked with way more optimism than I felt. “Okay”, I said out loud, thinking what a goof I am. So much for being the expert! Earlier I had been seeking to impress Irena with my knowledge of the technique for building fibreglass tanks for airplanes, but clearly I was no expert. I was also pretty discouraged. Not surprisingly then, next day, we didn’t go back to another attempt on the “cow” as we had ruefully begun to call our accidental sculpture. Instead I fought the fight for a new waterlock in the land of ‘fucknowlogy’ – the internet. My attempts to order a commercially made waterlock failed in a death struggle with the usual ill performing web platforms of crashing shopping carts and last minute apologies - after filling out pages of forms - “sorry we don’t deliver outside the USA.” And online waterlock mufflers were more expensive than the Queen’s jewels.

In the interim Irena had left me for her grandchildren in Canada, so I decided instead to move on to other things for a few days, like working to see just exactly how many more very cold beers I had in store. As is my bent, when things stop working, sometimes, so do I. Though I am often pleasantly surprised by how life propitiously offers salvation to my woes, this time, time passed slowly in the heat of Malaysia’s perpetual summer days.

All this time, the cow remained solidly atop the work bench, particularly because it was so thoroughly glued in place. Its two upward standing sections of 3 ½ inch fibreglass pipe were, I thought, reminiscent of a pair of splayed, blunt horns, and its square sides low to the table seemed like an animal about to charge. Nightly, over gin and tonics, I stared at it and it stared back, definantly. It seemed to be daring me, as if in a challenge of wills. Finally, one evening I wrestled it from the workbench and carried it roughly below. I shoved it into the engine compartment in the place where a more proper waterlock muffler might have sat. “Not bad” I reflected aloud “It’s actually a better size now, being smaller.” Its shrinking ways had made it a better fit around the various cables and hoses it had to dodge. The fibreglass pipes are no longer perfectly aligned, but, what the heck, that’s why we put the exhaust system together with flexible rubber hose. As for its wrinkles and folds, well.... look at me!

Next day, when nobody was about on the docks to mock us, I finished the layup with four more layers of cloth, and waited impatiently for her to cure. Then, with a bit of sand paper and white paint, her curves started to come out. I was getting a bit carried away, but I couldn’t resist painting on some black splotches. I put her away out of sight of prying eyes and went back to the challenge of sourcing hose, stainless steel fittings and other bits and bobs to finish the giant exhaust system.

Nearly a month went by. I found, bought and wrestled 34 feet of 3 ½ inch exhaust hose into the dark nether world of the boat’s bilge. I had shoved straight sections of fibreglass pipe into blind holes and built 65 degree elbows to negotiate impossible corners. For weeks I had begged the local Malaysian welding shop to finally build me an exhaust stern fitting and then managed to install it without dropping it in the sea even once, while hanging upside down from the swim grid, my forehead bobbing in and out of the harbour swill. Finally, one day, after tightening down the last of a bushel basket of hose clamps, I turned the starter key, held my breath and waited. The engine idled nicely, good news, but still I waited for the “bang” of an exploding exhaust gas muffler. But none came. Water started to flow in round spurts out the exhaust fitting, and I allowed myself a moment of hope. I rushed down below, tore open the engine room door and switched on the light. And there, in the shadow of the ticking Yanmar diesel, sat my darling waterlock muffler, her sides puffing easily, as she pushed out gallons of cooling water and clean exhaust gas. “Well I’ll be damned” I thought out loud, “I guess I’m more twisted than I thought.”

Coming on Board

May 14, the deed is done. The new diesel engine is happily installed and we are sitting in Singapore now after sailing and motoring our way here last week from Langkwai.

I learned from the struggle. First, as I get older (56 yesterday), the task of working upside down in the bilge seems to hurt more! Second, for all the sweat in my eyes, dirt under my fingernails and boat bites up to my arm pits, its was still worth it to do it myself. It was a lot of work, but it was actually simpler than I had imagined. Now, nothing, simply nothing, gives me more satisfaction these days than to turn the key, watch the instruments jump to attention and hear the hum of the Yanmar 75 hp come to life. The hardest part? Building a four inch exhaust system 34 feet long for the new engine and finding a place to put it. It was like trying to shove a live python down a hole. Second hardest part? Giving away the old engine. Nobody wanted the old girl, including the marina manager who had reluctantly agreed to store it temporarily.

End of an era coming for us. Next month we are bound for Indonesia and South Africa. After 5 years in Singapore, how does that feel? The boat's ready, but are we? Stay tuned!

New Engine Going in

Cut, bruised and stiff, Irena and I celebrate the end of an era. It was a struggle, but we prevailed over our tired old Perkins Prima 50 HP diesel. Yesterday, dripping coolant, oil and fuel, (the Prima that is) we wrestled her from engine room and dragged her on a skid kicking and screaming into the saloon. Tonight, all 300 kgs of her smelly presence reminds me our new Yanmar Diesel is waiting no more than a 100 meters away. Thank Miss Prima but good bye. 75HP here we come! We will get some serious speed on now under power.

Tarps, tarps, tarps.

I suppose my ambivalence about tarps has its origins in the family vacation of 1962. I was 7 the year we embarked on a vacation so ambitious I would never undertake it, even if I had had a choice, which of course then, I did not. July, and summer family vacation time came, so off we went to circumnavigate the Great Lakes by Volkswagen!

Now we were a picture. We were a family of four in the car and we carried the family canoe on the roof and of course we dragged along all our considerable camping gear under a tarp in a laden utility trailer. For those of you more than 30 years old, you will remember the Volkswagen car from those days as the cramped affairs they were, pushed along by a pathetic, inadequate, air-cooled engine bellowing away from some dark place under car’s rear end. Later, as an adult, I understood from my father’s recounting of the tale the Volkswagen was never again the same and neither was I. Those hills north of Lake Superior were murder and I was a complete shit the whole trip. I think Dad still feels guilty about selling the car that fall, and I still feel guilty about my attitude that summer.

But I suppose I should give myself a break. Riding in the back seat of a Volkswagen for four weeks with a three year old brother is no holiday in any condition. My brother was a sweet kid, and is today a sweet man despite the venom I visited upon him those endless hours droning along, the heat from the struggling engine making the back too hot to sit on. I survived the long hours laying in whatever space I could steal from him, eyes closed, day dreaming the day away. But worst of all was making camp every single, bloody night. At the end of each insufferable day on the road, we hunted down a camping spot, pitched two tents, dug trenches around each tent, set up the camp kitchen, and strung tarps everywhere. My job, after I blew up four air mattresses, was to hold this corner or that of the hated canvas, while Dad danced around the tangle of lines looking for the elusive ‘sky hook’. You see the tents leaked, and we had no modern caravan trailer to cook or sleep in. The tarps made it habitable, but Jesus, what an endless process making, then breaking, camp each day.

Fast forward 2011. Here I float on our boat on the other side of the world – in Malaysia – with a sun downer gin and tonic in hand, taking in the sun just before she sets. The monkeys and end of the day bird calls are just starting up in the jungle around the marina, and the sky is taking on a deep orange light. Swifts bomb the surface of the water around the boat I am sitting under the dry, cool of the ships boat cover, surveying my little kingdom. It’s the beginning of the monsoon, unbearably hot when the sun steams up the world between the many rain showers. Around me in the dusky light, I see the tools and dust everywhere form a week’s labour on the aft deck, sanding and varnishing the 26 floor boards hauled up from below. Then POW! Just as the sun touches the horizon it in dawns on me: With a laugh, I see the circle closing. This day, this moment in this magical kingdom, is possible because of the ships cover and of course the ships cover is just a bloody .....tarp!

I miss my family -- my Mom, my Dad and my brother. But the tarps that keep me cool and dry connect me to them across the miles, the years and the memories.

Let the adventure continue!

It has been quite a while since we have posted to this blog - and after 5 years of working in SE Asia we are getting ready top set sail once again. A new boat, a new set of destinations and a whole lot of unknowns lay before us. We invite you once again to follow along.

Knock knock.....

This is the sound of opportunity calling again! SV Conversations is setting sail on its next leg of a round the world sail. On May 1, 2011, we are sailing from Malaysia to South Africa, and we want to share this experience and adventure.

It seems like years since our last offshore passage adventure bringing SV Conversations from San Francisco to Singapore. For those of you that missed it, we sailed:

SF to Hawaii – 15 days, with 7 on board
Hawaii to Fiji – 22 days with 5 on board
Fiji to Vanuatu – 8 days with 6 on board
Vanuatu to Darwin – 14 days with 6 on board
Darwin to Bali – 10 days with 5 on board
Bali to Langkawi – 18 days with one on board (Cresswell)
Langkawi to Singapore – 5 days with 5 on board

That’s a total of 92 sea days! Along the way, we had novice and expert, young and old, adventurous and relaxed. We made new friends and confirmed old, found new ways to embrace living in this magic kingdom, and re-discovered what is important in our lives. Now, after five years living and working in Singapore, it’s time to do it again!

On May 1st, our route from Langkawi Malaysia, will take us south to Singapore, Indonesia and into the SE tradewinds between the Islands of Java and Sumatra, then west to Cocos Keeling, Mauritius, Durban and finally, around the Cape of Good Hope to Cape Town, South Africa – arriving January 2012. Potential jumping on/off spots along the way include Kuala Lumpur (Langkawi), Singapore, Jakarta, Borneo, Cocos Keeling, Mauritius, maybe Madagascar, Richards Bay, and Durban (South Africa).

Is that cool or cool!? If the names of the places we are visiting conjure images of an exotic adventure; if you see yourself sailing a tropical downwind trade passage with day after day after day of sun on your face and wind at your back; then join us! You will only need to cover your airfare and we would ask you to share living expenses (food, laundry, etc.) and fuel, berthing and other minor costs related to the trip (but not maintenance and operation of the boat herself which we will cover).

Now before this email starts to sound too much like an advertisement for Club Med, how about a reality check. The reality of offshore sailing is different from what is presented in the media, but it is a profoundly powerful experience and environment. To go to sea in a sailboat changes us. So chances like this are important AND they are rare.

Ask yourself these two questions “Am I called to risk stepping beyond the bounds of my current life to try something new and un-common?” “Do I now have the Courage, Capacity, and Captaincy, to be able to make THE CHOICE to go?` Likely, in choosing to go, you will face a parade of sensible reasons the rational, mortgage bound, working world will throw at you as perfectly good (but limiting) reasons why you should give this a pass too. If ‘Life is a voyage we live but once’ it seems tragic to stay tied to the dock (the job, the house, the dog) and pass up opportunities and adventures that come our way. If not now - when?

We would like to add another dimension to this offer: if you have someone in your life you want to mentor in a life changing experience, think about sponsoring their participation. Help us share this experience with those who will get the most from it, especially people just starting out, people in transition or others less advantaged.

So that’s the deal. Go ahead, ‘make your life!’ Email us, let us know what part you are interested in. If you are new to us, and want to know more, see http://sail7cs.com/ .

Please circulate this email liberally, and broadly to your network contacts, family and friends. We look forward to hearing from you soon.

Cheers
Cress and Irena