Chatty Log | Sunda Strait to Cocos

Sunda Strait to Cocos Keeling

6 September 2004

Caroline: We know that the package has arrived in Jakarta and is cleared for delivery. When John talks to FedEx in Cilegon, however, they say it will be there only on the 9th! That's completely unacceptable to us, Cilegon is only 100 km down the road from Jakarta. John manages to pursuade them to have the package there that evening.

John: So then we get a call from Mr Iwan around 4 p.m. saying the package has indeed arrived but we'll have to pay import tax (surprise surprise!) and let's go down town to get it now. Nope, not going for that one. We'll never get everything done before the port offices close for business and I just know we'll have to go back and finish clearing out the next day so why make two trips (at US$20 a pop)... Iwan tries to tell me that if we don't get the package right away they'll send it to his office and there'll be problems but I'm not buying. Let's get all this taken care of tomorrow first thing. First thing, for Mr Iwan, is 9 a.m. (10 a.m. boat time).

7 September 2004

Caroline: The kids stay on board whilst John and I go into Cilegon to pick up the inverter from FedEx and do our other bits and pieces. We had hoped to take only a few hours, but it takes most of the day. When checking out with the port authority, we discover that Casper's passport wasn't stamped out. This means an extra trip to immigration, then one to health clearance and then back to the port authority. Put in some shopping and a stop at the post office and before you know it most of the day is gone. Too late to leave.

John: Predicatably, Mr Iwan turns up late and the timing slides from there on in. At least we now have the new inverter, a true sine wave 1800W unit that I wired up in the late afternoon to replace the massive Trace modified sine wave (read semi-square) we already had. The new unit doesn't make nasty noises and draw huge currents (over 100 Amp) when the freezer starts up so maybe this has been worth waiting for. Now, what on earth am I going to do with this great clunky Trace inverter? Nowhere to store it... But we're still going to want it for battery charging when we get back to 'civilisation'. Oh well, maybe we really will leave tomorrow!

8 September 2004

Caroline: Nothing is going to stop us from leaving today. Finally! It feels so good to leave Merak behind and be on our way again. It's really calm, so we're just motoring the 35 miles to Krakatau.

John: I think we would have up-anchored and motored out of the bay today even if we'd been sinking... A month to the day that we left Singapore, and we're not even out of the Sunda Straits yet! The sea is flat calm as we make our way towards Rakata, the largest remnant of Krakatau. The engine oil pressure is holding, the steering seems to work, the autopilot seems OK... maybe things are looking up at last! Rakata turns out to be an awe-inspiring mountainous island, half torn away by the explosion in 1883. The raw rock still exposed, the remnant is still steep and imposing. The water depths just offshore are hundreds of metres deep. The sense of scale of this explosion, that ripped a huge hole in the sea and blew millions of tons of rock tens of miles into the sky takes our breath away. We cautiously make our way into an anchorage with steeply-sloping bottom, so that anchoring depth is only reached perilously close to shore, taking some time to find the right spot between a couple of fishing boats. Anak Krakatau, the 'child' looms dark and quietly smoking across the bay that once was filled with the island of Krakatau itself.

9 September 2004

John: The fishing boats left in the night so today we had the place to ourselves. We've been looking over at Anak Krakatau from time to time, but see no 'burps' of activity or redish glows in the night. Bah! Caroline and Casper spent most of the day getting some of the vegetation off the hull, a veritable hanging gardens by now. I struggled with the air drill, it seems not to turn with the power we need to drive the brushes anymore. The kids got to swim off and explore the beach a couple of times to take a break. I also struggled with the hardware and software to get the bowcam working. Now, for the first time, we are in clear enough water to see how well it works. Whatever I tried, didn't work. I hate Windows anyway. So, a very hot and frustrating day - depresses the spirit. Sometimes it just seems so hard to get anything to go the way we want it. Maybe we just have too much stuff. and the weather being so hot and sticky shortens tempers.

10 September 2004

John: Time to check out Anak Krakatau more closely. We weigh anchor and motor across to explore an interesting-looking set of small islands and bays at the SE tip of Sumatra, passing close by Anak on the way. The slopes of Anak are black, grey, brown and red, with white and sulphurous yellow patches up higher. The eastern part is heavily wooded with bright green forest. The shore itself is fobiddingly rugged, sharp, demonic. The depths jump around, varying from 50 m to 20 m in a few boat lengths. Scary stuff this! We gingerly make our way round the western side of the island, surprised to see a few people up on the slopes, one near the top wearing a white suit. Presumably protection against the hot rocks. Later, we get to pass between some very pretty little islands, full of Kelongs and moored fishing boats, both of a different design than we've seen before, larger, better built.

11 September 2004

John: The anchorages are not so pretty as we'd hoped, ugly scars of tree-clearing and the sound of chainsaws. We set off without exploring further and decide to anchor for lunch at a pretty little island we saw on the way in, with a small cave on one side and an interesting little embayment on the other. The kids set off to explore with the dinghy and report that there are small grey bats in the cave and a black-tip reef shark on one of the reefs. they take us proudly for a tour of the main features they've discovered. Caroline and the kids take time out for a swim on the reef and to wander ashore. I have to try and keep my injured foot dry, it isn't healing as well as I might have hoped. In the evening, Caroline notices some spectacular bright green phosphorescence in the water, lookng like eels or worms. Closer inspection reveals these wiggly lines of light to be the trails of tiny worm-like creatures, perhaps 12 mm in length and 1 mm across. Casper catches one in a bucket. It has brown rings along its length, hairy, and has a small head like a tiny snake. It seems incredible that such tiny creatures can make such bright luminous trails, over 1 m long. Sometimes the trails turn on and off, looking like a dashed line. Are they finding mates? The brightness of the trails is amazing.

12 September 2004

John: We had so much fun here, and there is so much living diversity to discover, we stayed not only for lunch but for the night. This morning the kids do not want to leave. We let them zoom off for more discovery trips in the dinghy, I deliver them ashore with a radio so they can call me back when they're done. Meanwhile Caroline takes a swim to clean some more hull, spending nearly 2 hours on a scuba tank working away diligently with a scraper. I put on some U2 at high volume and set about working on the forard hatch, which still leaks.

13 September 2004

Caroline: Back at Krakatau. It's quite a bit clearer today and we had a nice view of Sebesi volcano on the way. It's also very calm and we can anchor right off the beach at Anak Krakatau. We're not the only ones here, a boat with about 10 tourists arrive who proceed to put 5 tents on the beach. After lunch we're ready to go ashore and start exploring. From the beach is a path into the forest which is only a 100 m wide. On the other side is a black slope that get steeper and steeper up to the first lower top. On the lower slope are bunches of very tall grass. It's defenitely an unusual place! We weren't planning on going all the way to the highest top, we're just wearing sandals, but the way up doesn't look so difficult or very far so we cannot stop and go all the way. It is a bit of a scramble as the slope gets steeper and with every step we slide down with the gravel. The stones are getting hotter too, we start to see steam coming of some rocks and when our feet get buried in the gravel it feels rather warm. On the top we discover there is a real crater and around the rim are some steaming yellow sulfurous areas. Some places are so hot that rocks crumble under your feet like burned charcoal. The views all around are spectacular too. Going back down is not so easy in our sandals, the tiny volcanic rocks are rather sharp stuck between the shoes and soles of our feet. But we have no regrets. Only we forgot the Explorer's Club flag since we weren't even planning to go to the top. We decide we'll go again tomorrow with proper shoes, the flag, GPS, and sextant and do a bit of research too.

John: We half expected to get chased off, to find the island out of bounds for ill-prepared loonies like us to scramble over but not at all! Soon after anchoring, a young local guy who spoke quite good english swam over to ask if we could spare some water. We offered to take some ashore for him. Turns out he was part of a BBC film crew unit that was filming a drama documentary on Krakatau. I thought it would be a bad idea to go hopping around on volcanic rocks with my injured foot, but this was too good an opportunity to miss. Having gained the first crest and found it fantastic, we could not stop without attempting the main crater mound. When the rocks became warmer than the black charcoal-like texture and the high sun could explain, it dawned on us that indeed, the whole ground was steaming around us from the volcanic activity.

14 September 2004

Caroline: Up fairly early to get to the top before the heat of the day. Closed shoes walk a lot better and it doesn't take that long to get to the top. It's a lot hazier today and the views aren't so good, but this time we walk all the way around the crater. What a place. I wouldn't want to be here when this volcano wakes up again. Apart from white hot areas and steaming sulfur patches the crater itself seems all quiet. Which is just as well. But standing on that rim and looking out towards Rakata and the deep water in between I could start to get an inkling of what took place here 121 years ago. It's truly awesome.
Back on the boat it's time for lunch and than upanchor and sail to Panaitan, our last stop before heading into the Indian Ocean. Just before leaving the guys trade some diesel for fish and spend a couple of hours cleaning them. We arrive at the anchorage in Panaitan just before dark and during a rain squall. This is the first time I get to wear my nice rain jacket.

Casper: I had to wake up early because we wanted to climb Krakatoa again because the day before we forgot the explorers club flag, Very stupid. so when we were all finally ready we once again climbed the steep slopes of mt. Krakatoa. It wasn't so hard as yesterday because it was a lot cooler without the blazing sun. When we reached the top there was smoke coming out of holes and there was a huge crater in the middle with a steep slope down that looked pretty scary. And we also went around the rim of the crater where the ground was white and crumbly and the air was so bad because of the sulphur and we had to put something in front of our noses. I found it a really special place because not a lot of people get to climb Krakatoa twice and when we first came there we saw somebody in a white suit, one of those volcanologists climbing to the rim of the crater. I thought, wow, that must be great to be able to do that and I also thought maybe one day I could do that in one of those special suits. But we went up with our normal clothes and shoes! Later that day when we were back down again a fishing boat came to anchor next to us and they showed us a lobster. I thought yummy lobster! And so my dad thought that too and we went over and traded the lobster and some big snappers and two crabs for 30 litres of free diesel! Later that day my dad showed how to gut fish. We spent one and a half hours gutting fish crushing crabs preparing lobster, it was quite fun.

John: Well, although we weren't too keen on climbing up a second time, in fact we did a lot more and got to walk all round the crater, some of the way along a knife-edge of crumbly steaming rocks and we generally played all over the crater area. Just an awesome place, and I felt like a child happily playing with a big box of fireworks, dimly aware of the power and danger, but naively having fun on a big bomb waiting to explode. This time we unfurled our precious Explorer's Club flag and took a couple of pictures with it on the crater rim. Just for fun I took a bunch of GPS positions around the crater, including altitudes, and a sextant angle to Jocara below to estimate height, which seems to be around 320 m at the highest part of the crater. Wanting to get off to Panaitan and arrive before dark, we narrowly decided to take a little time to trade with a passing fishing boat - the crab and lobsters made a wonderful pasta sauce for dinner! I can't remember having tasted better crab. They may have been small, but they were delicious! Arriving in a rain squall, we anchored at 6 deg. 32.50'S, 105 deg. 12.61'E and settled in for the night.

(Check out the images of this day on the Sunda page.)

15 September 2004

Caroline: In the morning we see that this bay is untouched, no sign of habitation anywhere. We decide to motor around the corner to Peucang Island where we can maybe find some information about Ujung Kulon park. Arriving there, however, it's clear this is a really wild desolate corner of the world. Apart from a few fishing boats there's no sign of humans or habitation here. We do see a small structure ashore and anchor near it and some interesting looking rocks.

John: We set off in calm conditions and took about 4 hours to reach a pretty little anchoring spot behind Peucang Island at 6 deg. 44.82'S, 105 deg. 13.54'E near a small white hut ashore. This is untouched territory, it seems. A few fishing boats pass by, but there is little evidence of any major impact of human populations. The most obvious featrure is the steel lighthouse tower on the cornber of Java, the entrance light to the Sunda Straits from the Indian Ocean. Just around that corner if the open ocean, big swells rolling in from the roaring 40's and the trade winds that will carry us westward to Tanzania.

16 September 2004

Casper: This is the day we went for a walk around the corner of the island, It was beautifull and they say that there are rhinos there. We even saw rhino tracks and rhino droppings but we didn't see a rhino. After a while we approched some houses with some people and they were very nice to us, they gave us sweet tea and they let us climb their lighthouse, which was very tall. After a while we encountered an astonishing beach which looked like it was in New Zealand. We also found a lot of nice shells which most of them were cowries. At the end of the walk we were all exhausted and we all talked about what happend that day.

John: This is part of Ujung Kulon park, a world heritage site that has Indonesian one-horned Rhinos, so we're told. It seems we have anchored near the site of a 200-year-old port called Cibom, near the site of the 'first light' at the Western corner of Java, the famous lighthouse, 50m high on the cliff, that was destroyed by the tidal wave from the explosion of Krakatau. We were able to take a walk to see the original lighthouse remains. A rusting iron barrel with lifting rings is lodged in a tree, perhaps an oil barrel for powering the light that was thrown there by the violence of that tidal wave. We climbed up to the top of the new lighthouse tower nearby (a scary prospect since it is rather high and very flimsy, made more exciting by he extent of the rust on the structure) and ambled along fantastic beaches with deep rolling surf waves to where turtles come to lay their eggs. The walk also took us through jungle full of insects and birds, including many hornbills. We certainly heard some heavy grunting and crashing through the undergrowth along one part of the track where we walked, so we'd like to think it was a rhino. Altogether, a fantastic walk, full of natural beauty, history and wildlife. Really, this kind of day is so special it makes everything worthwhile.

Caroline: I was so excited when we went ashore in the morning and found a shelter with information boards, including a map showing walks. After an early lunch we set off on a path through the forest towards the lighthouse on the corner. Not 5 minutes on our way we heard a raucous and 2 huge hornbills landed in a tree nearby. Fantastic. At the lighthouse I was rather reluctant to climb to the top, the thing looking so rusty and flimsy, but was glad I did because the view was spectacular. All this natural beauty is so unspoilt and wild. A booster to my soul.

17 September 2004.

John: This is the day! The day we finally set off on the big leg to Cocos Keeling, 588 n.m. away across the open Indian Ocean. Until now, we have dealt only with mild winds and seas. Now we face the trades (20-30 knots) and ocean swells of 2-4m, typically. Caroline and I are both excited and nervous at the prospect. We have not sailed in open ocean waters for over 10 years now, the last time we saw this kind of action was in 'Redwings', coming up the Great Barrier Reef of Australia in 1994. As we rounded the corner, big ocean swells from the roaring forties appeared, 3m high, with 20 knots of wind from the SE. We took some time to get our sails up and organised, a little fearful of the power of the waves and wind and our sometimes old and weakened running rigging. Our new Genoa pulls like a train. The main fills and draws well, too. The little staysail improves the slot between Genoa and Main, so that together they produce an astonishing amount of drive for such a stubby little mast. We had feared, when we first saw the boat, that her mast would prove too short. Now we are more than happy it is not taller as Jocara is pressed over 20 degrees on port tack and surges forward at a steady 8-9 knots. Wow! These are speeds we never sustained in 'Redwings', even though she was fast for her size (46')! In the first 24 hours we travel over 200 miles, a first for us. But the motion is pretty bad, and we are all feeling more or less seasick. We are not able to do very much other than hang on as we ride the big waves through the boats' pitching, rolling, yawing, heaving, surging and swaying motions. Casper is probably doing better than the rest of us. Alex is very seasick and unable to do anything. Caroline & I do our best, but that's not saying very much as we are both feel close to being sick.

18 September 2004

John: Alex is miserably sick. Casper is sleeping. Caroline is exhausted, she took cat-naps while the radar alarm scanned the horizon for other boats during the night. We are making 7-10 knots on a heading of 237 Magnetic in about 20 knots of apparent wind just forward of the port beam. We have about a 3m sea, confused swells. Hah! The swells are confused! Not half as confused as we are getting through sleep-deprivation and the befuddling mind-numbing motions of the boat. I get close to being a vegetable in too much motion, unable to think straight or do anything coherent. I have trouble even copying down the latitude and longitude position values without forgetting them or making some mistake. It is as much as I can do to drive myself to make the ocassional entry in the cruising log. From time to time a small rogue wave topples some water into the cockpit, just to make things a bit more miserable and soak our seat cushions with saltwater. Even so, we live in comparative luxury compared to many smaller boats, in which the cockpit would be much more rugged and windswept. I run the generator for a while, and then start the microparticle sampler. By 09:40 UTC we are at 9 deg. 06.61'S, 101 Deg. 38.63'E with 333 n.m. to go to Cocos Keeling. Just before dark, an unfortunate juvenile Booby got his wing tangled in the port fishing line. We see him being towed roughly across the water behind us, totally entangled and bouncing along like a big ball of feathers. I haul him in, calling for the fish knife (which alarms Caroline and the kids as to my intentions), then gloves and pliers (with a view to disentagling him by hand without getting my hand all chewed up by his beak). As I pull him in, I see him glide like a kite, flying evenly and without obvious wing damage. I haul him aboard, manoevering him onto the aft port railing, where he gains a footing and rests. I approach wearing dive gloves with a view to seizing his head to immobilise his very pointed beak so that I can work on his wing. The drawback to this plan is that it only leaves me one hand on a rolling boat to work with. As I approach, I see him eyeing me suspiciously, then I sense that if I reach out gently, he might allow me to work on his wing without attacking me. I leave his head free, and begin working gently on his wing. He watches, but does not attack my hand, even though it would be easy to do so and he must be very frightened. He really seems to trust me, and I he. The tangle is thus easily freed, and I release him. Far from escaping into the air, he continues to sit there, resting. His parents (we assume) circle nearby, apparently distraught. He stays half the night, sleeping off his ordeal, then flies off in the early morning. A curious sight occured in the middle of all this. Five boobies on a stick. Seriously, there was a piece of driftwood, not very long, with five boobies sitting on it in a neat row. We passed so close by that they were all nervously eyeing the boat and clearly undecided about whether to abandon their precious resting spot or brave it out. They all stayed, giving the curious impression that they were somehow stuck with glue to the stick like a large ornament as they swept by the starboard side. Funny, boobies.

19 September 2004

John: Caroline and I are seriously concerned about Alex. Not that this trip is a problem, but what if he cannot find his sealegs before Cocos? How are we to cope with the 10-12-day trip to Rodrigues? We cannot risk taking him on such a long trip if he really seems unable to recover and remain hydrated. But there is little in the way of alternatives; no place to go from Cocos Keeling but 2000 miles west. (being in the middle of nowhere and with its back to 20 knots of trade winds). We explain this to Alex, and he realises that he cannot simply wallow in misery, that he has to demonstrate that he can keep drinking and overcome the seasickness. Amazingly (his will-power is extraordinary!) he does so, and steadfastly drinks and eats tortillas, taking time out to throw up when he gets the urge, getting right back to eating and drinking afterwards. It works, and by days' end he is much recovered and literally singing and dancing with joy! The sea has abated somewhat, which helps us all. Only problem is, we're running out of tortillas! I get up the energy to deploy two of our best lures, determined to catch something, our first fish, now that we are in open ocean. Low and behold, we pass by a bunch of circling birds and wham! we get a big strike and the line starts screaming off the reel. The kids call me outside urgently, and as I come bowling out of the companionway, I demand to know which reel has gone off. The answer is both! In the time it took me to get into the cockpit, the second reel has also taken a hit. A few seconds later, both lines are slack, with Casper at one reel and I at the other, looking at each other in bewilderment. Casper's strike has broken the swivel quick release attachment, mine has bitten through or broken the monofilament at a knot, despite the steel leader. I am angry and frustrated, knowing in my heart that the loss of both strikes is in large part due to my own sloppiness in preparing the gear. I knew the swivel attachment was a bit rusty, I could have replaced it. I should also tie my knots more carefully and/or replace weak monofilament with old knots. Now we've lost two of our best lures, one brand new, the other with brand new double stainless hooks. Lord knows what beautiful big fish we could have had on board for sushi and sashime! They must have been pretty big, we're loading 80 lb test line and the hardware snapped so easily on both. I went moodily back to making my bread and rolls for tonight's Jocara juicy burgers. The way even small things can push me over the edge tells me that I'm pretty stressed and that my even temper (what even temper!) is only skin deep. We had another big strike later on, which quickly released (thank goodness we got the line and lure back in one piece, with a few bits chewed off). Right after releasing pressure on the line, Casper and Alex saw a big sailfish (Marlin or Swordfish?) that they described as being my size, jumping twice out of the water and landing on its back a few boat lengths behind us. I weigh over 90 kg. This sounds like Marlin behaviour to rid itself of parasites and other things, like lures. It also matches the way the lure was spat out. Amazing! There clearly are still some big fish out here. Caroline and I somehow manage to prepare the POP sampler and get that going. Just after dark I realise that I have to change the battery on the microparticle sampler before the morning, so have a fun little time of it struggling around in the dark, balancing on the rolling deck to take care of that.

20 September 2004

John: We're in Cocos Keeling! After 3 days' of being thrown about and feeling sick, we arrived! The final entrance to Cocos Keeling was dramatic. Just getting the sails down in that sea and wind was a challenge, then we motored in, crossing from deep blue-grey sea to brilliant turquoise as the depth rocketed up from over 1000m to just 3.5m as we felt our way in through the coral reefs. As we stared disbelievingly at the amazing coloured water, not even yet anchored, we saw a shark glide across the sand below us. We anchored in the 'quarantine' area, flying a yellow 'Q' flag and not being allowed ashore or to get near other boats until the authorities have cleared us in. Customs say they'll call us tomorrow to do that. There are 12 other sailboats here, of all sorts, shapes and sizes. We are hoping to meet new friends and find other kids for Casper and Alex to play with. Our anchoring position is 12 deg. 05.60'S, 096 deg. 52.82'E. Meanwhile, we can finally look forward to a good night's rest! The afternoon is spent lazily recovering - we're not up to much. It seems a struggle even to get the POP filters wrapped and in the freezer. Neither Caroline or I are feeling right yet.

Caroline: The waters in the lagoon are stunning. I'm so glad we're here. I'm feeling really rundown and tired from all the worrying and lack of sleep. What a relief that Alex has finally found his sealegs. That has been my biggest worry since we left.

21 September 2004

Casper: Today is the second day we are in Cocos. We saw some blurry shark figures in the water so Alex and I went for a snorkel but it was very cold so we put on our wetsuits and weightbelts and went for a snorkel. Soon enough we saw a lot of fish and small blacktip sharks swimming around us. And one even came within two metres of us which was very nice. After a while of diving down and swimming and snorkeling we had enough so we came up and told our parents what we had seen.

John: We heard some nasty clunking noises as we went to bed last night, it sounds like it's the rudder hittting the port stop. The steering was weird coming in to Cocos. I discovered that the boat hardly answered to the helm the second day out from Sunda Straits, but didn't want to investigate further for fear of making things worse. The auopilot seemed still to be coping. Time to discover what the real problem is. My back took a nasty turn for the worse yesterday, so I feel like an aged cripple this morning, not ideal for working on the boat. Casper and Alex help out, clearing the lazarette and taking directions on how to bleed the steering rams. Casper soon discovers the main part of the problem; the port steering ram is detached from the rudder operating arm! The thread has simply worked undone, the lock nut must have been left loose when they refitted it after replacing the seal in Merak! Bah! It seems that every time we have something worked on, the professionals mess up the job. I am in danger of sounding like my Dad, can't find anyone to do a decent job anymore, can't trust anyone, etc. Anyway, I re-attach the ram and Casper helps me bleed the system, after which all seems well. Whew! What a relief! I was worried it could have been much more serious, requiring parts to be flown in or special tools. Let's hope that's all. As we finish, we get a call from customs asking me to go ashore to clear in. Casper drives me in with the dinghy. The real issue is quarantine, and there's one guy who does the immigration, customs and quarantine operations at a makeshift desk under a simple covered area stuffed with hand-made momentoes of previous passing yachts. He's very reasonable and gives me no trouble over our non-Australian fruit, veg, seeds, etc or even the cats. Caroline, Casper and Alex join me ashore and we explore the beach a little way, discovering an exciting little marine reserve area called 'the rip' where the current surges into the atol - reputed to be a great drift snorkelling spot. In this weather, blowing 25 knots, it looks pretty fierce. The reputed 'happy hour' when cruisers come ashore to socialise does not materialise, perhaps because of the high winds and showers, so we retreat back to Jocara for a film and another good night's sleep.

22 September 2004

John: More high winds today, so an opportunity to catch up on some jobs. We are keen for the weather to moderate so we can explore the diving spots, Home and West Island and spearfishing opportunities in the lagoon. I spend the morning working with Casper on his science and maths schoolwork, then writing up this log. The kids are not taking well to being asked to do schoolwork and other jobs, strongly preferring the idea of going ashore to explore. I can understand their frustration. Alex is really excited about me making a hand-held speargun with him. Also, maybe, if we can find some chicken wire and other stuff in a small hardware store ashore we could make a crab/lobster trap. The generator is on again, it seems we need to run it a lot and the 150 cfm fan I installed simply does not keep it cool enough, so we are obliged to leave the compartment doors open when running it. This makes a lot of noise which gets on everyone's nerves. We sure do burn up the power! Caroline is also worried about our fresh water usage, and when our tanks will finally run dry. We are now making water at about 12 litres/hour (the system should operate at 18 litres/hr) whenever we have the generator or engine on. I reckon we are using about 36-40 litres/day.

Caroline: It's quite a lot cooler now, only 26 degrees. It feels cozy sleeping snug under a sheet at night. We postpone exploring until the weather calms down a bit, but I don't mind. Time to recover, do a few jobs and read a book.

23 September 2004

John: The wind died down last night, and this morning dawned bright and beautiful with crisp air, bright sunlight and crystal turquoise water. We moved Jocara nearer the shore, half of the boats having chosen today to set off now they see the weather has improved. Casper and Alex swam ashore to mess about on the beach and let off steam. It gives us a break, too! Sometimes a sailboat can be a very small space for four people to get along together. We had hoped to snorkel 'the rip' today, but one little job led to another, and pretty soon we were tied up with sending Casper up the mast and then myself to fix various things that have broken down. We are STILL wrestling with the da$#@d inner forestay furler, which all started when I tried to fix the broken drum months ago. Now the top halyard cheek block has disintegrated. I still have some mast work to do tomorrow, but at least Caroline got the inner forestay sail rip repaired today and I replaced the drain bung in the dinghy so we can go exploring tomorrow with wetsuits and masks. While up the mast, I saw four blacktip reef sharks cruising along in loose formation towards the boat. Calling out to Caroline and Casper below, they could then watch the sharks as they checked out the boat, presumably in the hope of a few fish or other food scraps.

24 September 2004

John: Our shark friends have decided to call Jocara home for a while, they keep turning up and lazily cruising around the boat. We took a couple of hours this morning getting sorted to go to 'the rip', and had a few runs along the short channel. Lots of unicorn fish, some parrot fish, a few triggers and a bunch of dozing sharks under a ledge. Not a bad spot to drift snorkel, but not spectacular. Still, the water was beautifully clear and it was really refreshing to get out and do a bit of snorkeling. The deep blue, light blue and turquoise waters of various depths and with sand or rock/coral bottoms provide stunning contrasts, with creaming white breakers over the shallows where the surf rolls in. This is the first time I have got into the water in a long while, my foot not really sealed and ready, but I'm not waiting any longer. Besides, my wound does not seem to suffer any when it gets wet or is forced on a walk. Indeed, sometimes it seems to clean it up and spur more rapid healing. I'm just glad I can walk on it now without it stabbing me with pain. After a lunch of homemade bread with olive oil and herbs, sardines and cheese, we set about the jobs on the mast. That done, Caroline and I went off to explore possible dive sites around the corner of Direction Island, but found little excitement there. The kids romped ashore. I took the rubbish to the burning pit and excercised my pyromanical desires, followed by a beer on the beach and a chat with a few locals who had come over to camp for the weekend to get away from it all. Hah! Getting away from all of 400 inhabitants on Home Island and maybe a similar number on West Island. Imagine what they'd think of Singapore! We round off the day with bar-b-qued marinated chicken drumsticks, the first time we've tried the little 'kettle' bar-b-que on board since we bought Jocara. The food on board really is far too good for us to expect to lose the weight we had thought we'd shed so easily on this trip... The freezer and all makes it possible to eat really well, even for four of us.

25 September 2004

John: Time to give the batteries a good charge and set up the air sampling equipment. I rig the short hose on the compressor (the long hose to the lazarette has blown a hole) and charge all 6 tanks. We are no longer having trouble with barnacles, but the 'hanging gardens' under the hull are becoming a real pain. There are also some brown circular areas developing that are really tough to remove. The kids romp ashore finding coconuts to roast this evening at a planned bar-b-que for cruisers ashore. There are five boats here now, and we gather over a camp fire to swap tales of voyaging and places far away with a beer or two and some rum. The roasted coconuts taste a little like popcorn, and the meat inside is warm and soft. We get back quite late, having had a rather good evening with new friends and a loose arrangement with Paul and Suzette from Altair (a Seattle-based couple in the fourth year of their circumnavigation) to go diving together sometime. Suzette doesn't dive but might come along to snorkel.

Caroline: We are running really short on fresh veggies now, just carrots, potatoes and cabbage left. It's getting harder to come up with a variety of dishes. I'm really glad we have our LifePak supplements from Pharmanex to make sure we get all the vital vitamins and minerals. The hydroponics do not supply much greens, they're suffering in the salty environment. Quite a few young plants did not survive the 3 day sailing to get here. This morning I wanted to make an omelet and discovered that most of the eggs we bought in Merak had gone bad, I had to throw 20 eggs away! Still, with the freezer stocked with meat and cheese we're much better of than we were on our previous cruises. We brought sate to the bbq. It was good fun to meet the other cruisers in the bay. We have settled into the cruising life and life in Singapore seems like another planet.

26 September 2004

John: A late start, it is Sunday after all! Not that the day of the week means very much to us now, we often have no idea where we are in the week, or even the date. A freshly made pot of Dark Roast French coffee, courtesy of Spinelli in Singapore (who sponsored us 15 bags of excellent beans!) sets me up for what's left of the morning. We list some of the jobs to be done and things we want to do before leaving. We settle on a dive after lunch. Caroline and I get the POP sampler going and then Paul comes over to join us for a dive on an old Sri Lankan boat that has been sunk just 500m off the light on Direction Island (in line with the two points of the island) as an artificial reef. The ride out is choppy, but we find the buoy easily enough and drop into the cold, clear water. Alex is none too impressed with the prospect of being left to snorkel in 16m of water, but he's too young to come on this dive. Caroline, Casper, Paul and I descent the line to the wreck at about 16m depth. There's not much left, but we find some good-sized snappers, sweetlips and groupers sheltering nervously under the stern. A short way off is the wall, rapidly descending to hundreds of metres depth. I went over the edge and peered about for a few minutes, descending to 46m, but saw nothing spectacular come to check me out. The only pelagic fish that turned up were a couple of largish (maybe 2.5m) sharks that kept a very safe distance and were only ocassionally visible. Not a bad dive, but not a really memorable one. The spot is reputed to attract manta rays, one of which is said to 'dive bomb' divers, even touching them sometimes. Now that would be fun! Out of the water, we are all very cold and the ride back is wet and chilling. We spend some time on board warming up - it takes a while once chilled to the bone!

Caroline: It was nice to do a dive again. It wasn't a spectacular site but I saw plenty of interesting stuff. I found a little whitetip shark under a metal sheet trying to hide and I had a close encounter with a trumpet fish. Back on the boat we had some hot milo to warm up again. The water is 25 degrees, which doesn't sound bad but we were used to 29 degrees around Singapore.

27 September 2004

Caroline: People often think the cruising life is all fun and hanging out in beautiful places. That it's like a long holiday. Well, it is very beautiful here but there's no end to jobs. This morning I spent a couple of hours ashore doing laundry by hand. A lot of time every day goes into preparing meals and cleaning. This afternoon in between working on the website I'm making focaccia to take ashore tonight for another bbq. Life is still very busy, but the type of activities is very different.

John: Alex and I spent a good part of today making him a hand-held spear gun from wood, shock cord, a piece of stainless steel rod I had spare (an old rudder indicator control rod) seizing line and miscellaneous other bits and pieces. I had a good time building it with him, and he's very pleased with the result. Paul from Altair has lent Casper his three-pronged Hawaian sling, which I spent a good deal of the remaining time in the day fixing up - both kids playing in the shallows practising with their new lethal weapons. So, no jobs done (we didn't even get to take our 20 prematurely-bad Indonesian eggs to the burning pit), but what the hell, being with my kids is a big part of what this trip is supposed to be about. The evening bar-b-que was fun, it's good to chat with other cruisers and learn about their experiences, where they've been, ideas and equipment. Caroline's Focaccia and marinated chicken was excellent! We retired late and dropped into bed.

28 September 2004

John: The day of the maggots! And you thought Hitchcock's bird movie was scary... I slowly surface to consciousness around 05:30 with a lingering dream that involved water trickling down the back of my knee. As I woke, I realised that there was no water, but still a definite tickling sensation. I groped around. Nothing. Then again, I felt it. This time I caught something small and soft, and crushed it between my fingers. It popped wetly. Oh no! Please don't let this be a small cockroach - we've been seeing more of them lately and Caro hates the idea of them turning up in our bed. I roll over and aim for sleep again. Another tickle. What? Two? I catch this one, too. Now I'm worried. Two is a bit much. Then a third tickle. This time I grasp it between my fingers and stumble off to the forward heads to get my lenses in and take a peer at what I'm finding. The news is not good. Some kind of white/yellow worm. We're infested with worms? I go back to the bed with a flashlight and search while Caro sleeps. She'd freak if she woke up as I did... I find three more. Oh S#!t! I'd better catch all these and get rid of them before Caro wakes up! Then I find more... where on earth are they coming from? They just appear on the bedspread... Maybe I can get it cleared up and not have to tell Caro... Then I raise my eyes to see where they might be coming from and my eyes rest on the narrow slit opening above our bed that leads onto the aft deck. As I refocus, I see the aft deck is crawling with maggots. They're bursting by the hundred out of the rubbish bags we have stowed there for burning. The Indonesian Eggs! Oh No! This may be a bit too big a problem to get cleared up before Caro wakes... I rush out on deck and toss the seething bag into the dinghy, then begin furiously washing the deck with buckets of saltwater. The little buggers don't seem to suffer at all, they just get washed all over the deck and crawl up the coachroof once the tide has swept by. There are hundreds. I'm squishing them by the dozen, wiping out hordes, the battle is on. I rush back down to the aft cabin to pick another 10 off the bed before Caro sees them. then quickly back out on deck again. Caro stirs and mumbles something like 'What are you up to out there?" I lean into the aft cabin as she turns and begins to open her eyes. I see three more maggots on the bed. The game is up. 'Er, don't panic, but we've got maggots..." Caro takes it very well, considering. It's not exactly fun, waking up to find maggots crawling over me. I had hoped to put off that particular delight until safely entombed in my coffin, and then perhaps still escape this fate by being cremated. An unexpected preview. I didn't like it. So, we've spent much of the day de-maggoting the boat. Quite a job, too. The little buggers are persistent, tenacious and seemingly endless. But I think the tide has turned now.

Caroline: It was so horrible all those maggots. It still gives me the shivers. The way they kept tumbling down the aft hatch onto our bed. AARGH! In the afternoon we took the dinghy out to find some coral and bombies to practice with the spearguns. The guys had taken all the rubbish ashore and cleaned the dinghy of maggots before. Well, during the wet bumpy ride more and more of the little buggers started showing up. The guys missed a few during the cleaning! I kept bailing them out of the dinghy and new ones kept showing up. What a nightmare these maggots. But they did not like sloshing around in sea water and by the time we got back we hadn't seen any new life ones for a while. The lagoon is mostly very shallow and you can drop over the side for a snorkel almost anywhere. We did find often find blacktip sharks patrolling their patch of reef, clearly not pleased to see us. When a shark is circling you is not a good time to spear a fish. In the end we found a reef not far from the anchorage devoid of sharks where the guys got to shoot their guns. I did my shooting with the camera. The boys need a little more practice. Meat again tonight.

29 September

Caroline: Another job day. Since there's fresh water available ashore it makes sense to get a lot of laundry done and save the water on board for drinking and showering. Casper works on a drawing and Alex attempts to get some school work done. Then there's a lot of work on the website to get it up to date. Tomorrow we want to send a CD-ROM back to Singapore. In the afternoon the kids do some target practice with their spearguns. Casper has prepared a piece of bubblewrap attached to a diving weight under the boat. One of these days we might eat our own caught fish! Later in the afternoon John and I went out searching the beach to find a nice piece of drift wood. It's time to start creating a Jocara sign to put up in the hut before we leave.