S/V Totem - a family sailing the world

Excuse me while I get busy

2013-05-19T06:45:00.001-07:00

The feedback to last week’s post about topics was beyond my expectation. Besides illuminating really clear interest in particular areas, there were a bunch of new ideas, and some interesting questions on subjects I had in mind. Thank you!

First up is seasickness, which by far had the most requests for more detail. Boatschooling, power management, and dealing with customs/clearance into countries were next…I’ll get to those in the next couple of weeks, and work through the remainder based upon interest.

Meanwhile, a few other ideas (or twists) that hadn’t been on my radar that are also going into the mix:

Favorite destinations, and those we wouldn’t care to revisit
Favorite snorkeling / diving spots
Food poisoning and eating “local style”
More on food: vegetarian cruising, everyday cruising meals, exotic foods and refrigeration
What sails we have on Totem, and sail handling aboard
Photography: cameras used, tips and tricks
What to do with all that stuff in the holding tank
Avoiding pirates

On that note… a view from tonight’s anchorage between Bali and Menjangan Island, looking out at some big volcano on Java.

Well, what do you want to know about?

2013-05-17T03:00:00.001-07:00

So, we're still kicking around Lovina. I'd really like to get moving on to Kalimantan / Borneo, but honestly? It's fine. Not just because of the easy access to yummy little restaurants (goat sate, delicious, trust me!). Not just because we have caught up on so many little projects around here. After a bunch of months, I finally having the blog in sync with our life. The gaps between internet access, and my desire not to skip some of stories between access points (I can update via radio, but no internet = no photos), meant it got spread it out for a while there.

There are a few more Balinese vignettes to share, but meanwhile, I've got a bunch of non-location-specific posts that are partly done. So I thought I'd ask... what do YOU want to know about cruising on Totem?

Here's what's rolling around in my head, or half-written. Maybe one of these will grab, maybe you've got something else you want to hear about. Let me know in the comments, by email, or our Facebook page...whatever's easy.

Sunscreen / sun protection
Essential oils on board- cleaners, lotions, and more
Dealing with seasickness
Power management: wind, solar, batteries, and use
Passage meals
Wearing...what? Cruising friendly clothes on Totem
Favorite DIYs: from acidophilus cultured milk (yogurt!) to kombucha
Not tourists, not expats, not locals...how do we fit in? (thank you Gary!)
What's in Totem's medical kit (thank you Naomi!)
What we use for navigation
Onboard communications
Getting and using water
Beating the heat in the tropics
Dealing with the bugs
Trading
Getting exercise aboard (aka: I love Boat Pose!)
Trashed (well, dealing with garbage)
Green boating
Staying safe
Boatschooling
Kid-specific questions
Clearing into countries, with and without an agent (thank you Cidnie!)
? you tell me!

...and with that, I leave this image from yesterday's Not Really Fun squall. Totem's freeboard is about 5', so you have an idea of the kind of hobbyhorsing that was going on.

Lovina: juggling hawkers while we play the waiting game

2013-05-16T05:15:00.000-07:00

Gili Air to Lovina was a pleasant day trip.

Just point the boat towards Gunung Agung, and go!

We were cheated by the wind and had to motor, again, although since seasonal breezes are now generally from behind us we had really hoped to sail. But we needed to get there to renew our visas one more time and couldn't be late for the Immigration Office, so off we went.

putt putt putt putt

Immigration in Singaraja, about five miles up the road from Lovina, tells us it will take about a week to process the extensions. It's been a week. Actually, it's longer, because once they are ready it still takes at least a couple of days and two more office visits for us to pay them (we're not permitted to pay at submission time), collect visas, and provide them with photocopies of our updated passports with the new stamp. This is Indonesian bureaucracy, people. It is painful and slow.

I have amassed a collection of photos of the kids sitting around in immigration offices

Immigration is more confused with our application than usual. There is a lot of discussion happening as our officer reviews the case with his boss. They want to speak with our sponsor (to get a social visa- which can be extended more than once, unlike the visa on arrival- you need to have a local sponsor). Great. Well, fortunately she is in Bali. Ruth speaks to them on the phone. Not enough: they want to meet her! It seems unbelievable, but once again, she proves herself to be a really terrific agent, and devotes the entire following day to a trip up to Immigration. She and a friend joined us later for dinner on Totem.

Ruth visiting on Totem in Lovina

Cruisers- if you'll be coming here, we highly recommend her services for boat permitting (the infamous CAIT) and visa support! Ruth can be reached at info@islemarine.com; details at www.islemarine.com.

It could be worse. I mean, we're in BALI. Mostly, we're are using the time to get the boat clean, catch up on projects, catch up on learning, and do a little touristing around. Touristing, because this is a tourist town on a tourist island. When in Rome, right?

So, we hit some tourist spots. One great way to slough off the impatience with immigration bureaucracy? Hit the hot springs!

Tourists, but Balinese as well, all taking the water

We don't have our swimming suits. For the kids- no problem, they can wear their tank tops and underwear. Adults, not so much. I buy a cheap sarong and swim in that instead.

Siobhan sticks her head under the water spouts

Immigration delays? What immigration delays?

Other aspects of local tourism are less pleasant. When we land the dinghy on shore, hawkers descend to sell us everything from fruit and massages to bracelets or laundry services. Attempts to explain that we're not the usual vacationers day-tripping from Kuta are only mildly successful. It becomes really tiresome to explain to the same person for the umpteenth time in a week that no, you're not interested in buying their carvings / tshirts / bracelets / whatever.

Being sold to is still part of each dinghy landing and walk up to the main road. I can't stand being rude and just walking away from someone who is talking to me, but when it's the only option- you have to ask, who is really being rude?

We make friends with Maria, who purveys her fruit and services from the east end of the beach, and realizes that a soft sell works better with us. She delivers a lecture in Balinese to a few of the other sellers, after which they back off... mostly. Time seems to help us more than anything, as our faces slowly become familiar.

I'm sure whole families eke out a living on the few dollars that are made from beach vending, so it's high stakes and they have more to lose. Less fun for us, but how big a deal is that, really? It's the price to pay for traveling through tourist country again.

Lazy days on Gili Air

2013-05-15T03:00:00.000-07:00

The three "Gili" islands off the NE corner of Lombok are a big change from the traffic and noise of south Bali: there are no motorized vehicles, only pony carts and bicycles to get around. We were really ready for the slower pace after having to sit in hot traffic to get anywhere on Bali... that wasn't really fun.

A single sandy track rings the Gili Air, which you can bounce around to the jingle of your pony's bells in about half an hour.

Open air bars and restaurants, with little more than the sandy beach for a floor, line about half of the circumference; guest houses look out over pretty blue water to Lombok.

The rest is just pretty, unspoiled beachfront... and some very hard working local folks. Everything- food, water, building supplies...everything- has to be brought in by boat from Lombok or Bali.

Of the three "Gilis", Gili Air one is the quietest- which just means there are a handful of families on vacation, and independent travelers outnumber the twentysomething backpacking set; the younger crowd seems to congregate at "Gili T" for the all night full moon parties. We're ready for bed at Cruiser's Midnight (9pm) so this suits us well. An added bonus, Gili Air has inexpensive moorings to help us keep the boat gear off the coral, and our friend Brian from the M/V Furthur to visit with.

We spent a lovely few days and could have lingered if it weren't for the visa extension schedule pushing us on again. First, though, there is a big job to do cleaning a crazy layer of barnacles off the bottom of Totem. One month in the fertile and fetid waters of Serangan gave it the thickest growth we have ever seen... that's saying quite a lot! Jamie took the worst off the prop and rudder back in Serangan, but we know we had a big job waiting.

Thank goodness for Dive Master Brian, who loaned a tank to speed the job along. Jamie got about 2/3 of the bottom clean on that tank, and spread the rest over a couple of afternoons. It was BAD! All those little critters don't like being disturbed, either. I helped Jamie with vinegar/alcohol ear drops when he got out and watched a couple of little critters CLIMB OUT HIS EARS. Yes, it's as gross as it sounds, and gives you the serious heebie jeebies to see much less to feel them yourself.

It was fun to play tourist for a while. We swam a little, paid for the tourist stuff we don't usually do (pony cart tour! yoga studio sessions! drinks with umbrellas! gelato!), enjoyed a couple of non-local style meals, and spent a few evenings out, listening to live music... good times.

Totem moored at Gili Air; Bali's Gunung Agung in the distance

Furthur adventures of "The Happy Family"

2013-05-13T03:00:00.000-07:00

There's only one cruiser that we can say we have shared the waters with in Mexico, South Pacific islands, Australia, *and* Asia- Brian Calvert, on the M/V Further. Brian has seen our kids grow up afloat like few other cruisers have, so it was a much anticipated rendezvous when we saw him again in Bali.

Niall on Furthur for the start of the Sydney-Hobart Race, December 2010

Perhaps this shared history is why when Brian asked us if Niall would like to jump ship and come up to Gili Air with him, a day or so ahead of Totem, I said "yes"- and so our nearly-14-year-old off on a little adventure of his own, to be a contributing member of the Further crew.

Niall isn't the typical Furthur crew. They typically are smart, interesting, international travelers- he's right with them there- but they also tend to look good in a bikini. Niall's more of a baggy trunks guy, but he fit in anyway.

Niall teaches the Furthur crew a few common knots

As Niall sped away from Serangan on the back of Brian's motorcycle, I had one of those parenting moments when you wonder if you really did the right thing. I really was sure that we had, but we live such a close family life- literally always within a few yards of each other- that having my baby (I'm sorry Niall but it's always going to be that way) go off with someone else just gave me pause, and a little twist in my gut.

Brian seemed to know this. Here's a transcript from some of our chats the next day, as we hugged the Bali coast and tried not to lose our engine or go the wrong way in shipping traffic.

Brian: the lad has something new to show you, hehehehe
me: uh oh, what will we find when we get there?
Brian: something new... hehehehehe
me: Um, nothing permanent I hope?
Brian: define permanent, hohoho...

Oh yes. Then, later- as we quelled our engine / filter issues:

me: looks like we'll make it after all.
Brian: ok. will go ashore about 7 to play music. if you get here after that, call, Niall will be with us, hanging out in a bar... hohoho...
me: OK, which bar do I chase my boy down in later? I cannot believe I just asked that.
...
Brian: just about to post a pic for you.
me: is that a warning?
Brian: hehehehe

Gotta love Brian. He knew all the mommy buttons to push, and I know not all the grey hair I earned on our eventful trip up to Gili Air were from our engine troubles.

Totem and Furthur, Gili Air

We had three amazing days hanging out with Furthur and crew on Gili Air. Evenings were spent at Freedom Bar, where Brian busting out Dead tunes on his trusty Gibson made me want to twirl on the beach. Two of Brian's crew, Sam and Rosie, hung out with us while Brian played- the girls adored Sam, and were practically in her lap as she let them braid her gorgeous long hair over and over (I hope it didn't take too long to untangle in the morning!).

Brian's partner in ~~crime~~ music at Freedom is the inimitable Agu Gong. Agu has a permanent smile on his face.

The first night we were there, en famille (what, that's not how everyone goes to bars?), Agu looked at us and said: "The Happy Family"! What can I say- it stuck. I suppose we do walk around with smiles, and what's not to be happy about when you're relaxing with friends, digging your feet in the sand, listening to good music over the roll of gentle waves on a beach, with a freshly whirled up fruit smoothie (or G&T depending on your age!)? Every time we saw Agu after that, he would light up and proclaim again- "the happy family!" as we approached. It's stuck with Brian, too. Brian, who would tell you he is Not A Kid Person, yet hosted our son and has been caught with our kids hanging all over him and a big smile on his face more than once.

Thank you Brian, for opening up a side of Gili Air we wouldn't have seen without you, and for jumping on the awesome moniker!

You can follow Brian's adventures on his blog. There may or may not be a secret second blog of Further tales. He's written his take our "Happy Family", too.

It's not always rosy

2013-05-10T03:00:00.000-07:00

I tend to write about the positive aspects of our life. It's not a concerted effort to avoid the icky parts; it's simply not my preference to dwell on them. Well, consider yourself warned, because is a departure. Totem just had "one of those" days.

This is... not one of those days. No, this was a perfect day. I'm just going to revel in that for a mo.

We have been really fortunate to have had few problems with Totem's trusty engine, a 75 hp Yanmar 4JH3TE. Although Totem is a 31 year old boat, she was re powered just a few years before we bought her in 2007: a decided bonus. We (by which I mean Jamie, because while I aspire to diesel proficiency- this is squarely in his skill set and not mine) do our best to keep it humming happily along by treating it kindly, sticking to a maintenance schedule, and bringing in expert advice now and then. It has thanked us by performing as intended.

So it was a little alarming when new sounds began shaking out from the engine room as we motored north up the straits between Bali and Lombok.

Let me set the stage a little here. The waters between Bali and Lombok are one of the pinch points that massive quantities of water are squeezed through. Currents are reported to run up to 8 and 9 knots, generally southbound, in the daily rush to move water from one side of Indonesia to the other. There is no book or almanac or guide that can tell you what will REALLY happen out there: you simply know that southbound is a fast ride, and northbound can be a slog. We quizzed many local water folk for their wisdom, and came up with inconsistent reports. One hopes for the best, waits for the sweetest conditions possible, and goes for it. And so, near the end of the ebb and at first light, we went for it.

It is a sloppy mess outside Serangan harbor, where the direction of the current ran against the wind and swell, creating a shifting mass of short hills in the water pile-ups for us to navigate (the fancy word is standfalls). Jamie is steering us through them, trying to keep a course that won't throw us around too much. We are only making a couple of knots (hitting 3 knots is a high): it's running 4.5-6 kts against us. In the middle of all this, the engine starts to sound... well, not like it's usual happy self.

At some point, the engine noises become impossible to ignore. I take over, and Jamie checks our filters. Filthy. The slop has surely kicked up any sediment in the tanks. We also know we got dirty fuel in Labuan Bajo- Jamie double filtered it before it went into the tank, but bits still get through. The noise we hear (or, don't hear) is hesitation in the engine as it is fuel-starved.

The first of our two primary Racor filters comes out to swap for a new spare. this should be doable without shutting down the engine, but the Yanmar has other ideas in mind- it slows and coughs to a halt, the shrieking oil pressure alarm reminding us that All Is Not Well. The other primary must be too clogged to work solo.

Deep breath. Finish filter change. Restart engine. Engine starts.... sputters... stops. Opening the clogged fiilter introduced air, that's all, and it just needs to pull fuel through- the next start catches and holds. In just a few minutes, the current has carried us back a distance marked in harsh red slashes across the chartplotter. Towards the island, of course, and an ugly shore, natch. Nice if you're a surfer, I suppose.

Running north for another hour, the engine continues to make awkward hiccups. Every time it catches, Jamie and I give each other That Look: the one which says- honey, I really hope we can get through this without any ugly complications.

We need to anchor deal with the rest of the filters, since the engine is likely to stop again. At least the sea state has abated, and back eddies near shore keep us out of the worst of the current. Because we weren't having enough fun yet, a big squall now looms just south and east of our position. And because the gods truly want to laugh at us, we hit unseen debris in the water. The boat shakes, then begins to shake with cavitation from the engine. Great!

We ease Totem in towards shore, picking a roadstead spot that shelves out to anchoring depth to drop the hook. Jamie and I drop the dinghy so he can jump in the water (it's hung on davits across our swim step for short passages) and check the prop. (Mental note: we really should have a quickly deployed rope ladder!)

The good news is that there is no damage, it's just a big plastic bag wrapped around the prop. We're grateful again that we have installed a flexible shaft coupling, which has dampened all manner of the plastic debris we've hit in Indonesia. It's a hazard of cruising in the well-trashed waters here, unfortunately. Jamie is able to get it off by hand and it floats away in the current.

Within a few minutes, Jamie has the other primary filter (there are two) and the secondary fuel filters changed. This time, we anticipate that air in the system will probably stall us out at least once, and it does...just with fewer heart palpitations on behalf of the Totem crew!

Being just hundreds of yards from a big shore break, with no wind, with foul current, and with the prospect of a non-functioning engine was the most stressful day we've had in a very long time.

In the end, it was entirely undramatic. It was tense, and stressful. We were a little lucky, a little smart, and it all worked out just fine. A few small pods of dolphins next to Totem as we close the final mile into Gili Air caps it off.

Oh, there was a little fun with a massive cargo ship that seemed to divert course with the intention of letting us just (and I mean just) cross in front of them. Um, no thank you, that is a massive hunk of floating tonnage that we do not want to be playing tag with! Our AIS indicates it should be OK, but our eyeballs and our guts are not comfortable with the assessment. We make a 90 degree course change and duck them instead. Why take any risks? What's a delay of a few minutes to buy safety?

Definitely too close for comfort.

I had read a note in the morning on the Kids4Sail forum (cruising families, you need to get on there now!) from a guy who posted questions to a forum last year. His cruising dreams fell apart when he couldn't arrive at satisfactory answers to the questions from his family about the safety and practicality of their planned adventure- it whittled away at his dreams until the romance was gone, and the plan was abandoned. But here's the thing. Safety and practicality don't have to be casualties. We can have beautiful sunsets and wild adventures with plenty of spare parts and cautious decisions. I suppose practicality is relative and depends on our priorities, and everyone will have a different story. This man and his family will be able to find a path to other adventures, but it reminded me that this is the hard path to take. It has tremendous rewards, and I'm grateful we've followed it, even when the days aren't rosy. If every day were perfect, if every one had a rum drink under a palm tree with a postcard sunset and having enough fuel filters was irrelevant- well, everyone would be doing this!

You can go home again (Bali edition)

2013-05-09T06:21:00.001-07:00

Even at one o'clock in the morning, stepping off the plane in Bali is like walking into a wall of warm humid air. It takes some adjustment, but at the same time, it felt as though every pore of my skin opened up and said "thank you."

Other than the fact that my sweet husband had to meet me on the beach at an ungodly hour, it was so nice to be home! While my travels back to the states reassured that corner of my mind that wondered if we could go back again... returning to Bali reminded me as well that home also really is where the family is, where Totem is. She's our floating home, wherever she happens to lie; we are home for each other.

Bali held yet another homecoming for me. Twenty two years ago, I lived in here while participating in a college semester abroad program with the Vermont-based School for International Training. Yes, it was just as fantastic as it sounds to spend half a year studying in Bali! It was an unforgettable, indelible experience.

One of the real delights in being back was the chance to track down the family who had hosted me, fed me, and made fun of me as one of their own for the months I lived in Ubud.

Yep, that's me, in 1991. A little chunked out from a semester of dorm food at Tunghai University in Taiwan. The little boy just right of me in the photo, Wayan Manikan, was my little brother in this host family- I'm holding his cousin, who was having a ceremony to mark his feet touching the ground (a big deal, and something that doesn't occur in Bali until after a child is three months old).

Without an address, I wondered how difficult it would be to find my old family. Armed with a tattered album of photographs I had printed in Kuta in 1991, I followed my nose. I remembered that they were in Tebesaya, one of the 14 villages that comprise what's known as Ubud. "Ubud" was frankly unrecognizable to me: it wasn't just the traffic, which was jarring, but the striking amount of development that's taken place since 1991. I expected it to feel familiar, yet there wasn't even a pang. What once held small shops now housed glitzy stores (like Ralph Lauren... really?!). We went to a restaurant I recalled because it had been surrounded by rice paddies; it was surrounded by concrete development. The success of "Eat, Pray, Love" seems to have brought a fantastic number of self-satisfied looking Women Of A Certain Age (well, I suppose I'm one of them) to troll the streets for yoga wear, herbal tea, Balinese wisdom and Brazilian lovers. I was at a loss... pusing, dizzy/disoriented, the Indonesians would say.

I walked down the main road in the Tebesaya banjar (neighborhood) away from the hub of Ubud, as the glassy storefronts gave way to warungs and small shops I finally began to get my bearings. When I saw the bale banjar on a corner, I knew just where to go.

How do you return to a family who fostered you, more than two decades later? I didn't have a mailing address for them (and postal service is iffy at best in Indonesia). This was well before the internet took over and simplified most of our communications. There had not been a practical way to stay in touch, and did not know if they would have the foggiest idea who I was.

Perhaps, once again, I shouldn't have worried about how hard it would be to go home again. My host father, Ketut, was called back to the compound from work (by a new wife, who didn't know me), and after a few minutes to feel out our respective memories- we pretty much picked up where we left off.

Ketut and me... 22 years later. Oh, I wish I had an old photo of us to compare this with!

It was really special for me to share this reunion with my family. Ketut was as curious to meet them as I was to catch up on his life. To my delight, he was just as I remembered him: friendly, welcoming, jocular- and always, always, with a smile on his face. His son Wayan, that cute little kid in the old photograph, is now in his late twenties, married with a five year old. Unfortunatel for me, Wayan was away, working on a cruise shop out of Panama- but I met his young daughter, and all I could thing was... well... meep! He has a KID! Aging isn't always graceful for me. Of course he has a child...

The rest of the family had as much meeting Ketut as I did getting to know him all over again.

this belly laugh you see shows exactly who Ketut is... a truly fun loving guy

We only had a couple of days in Ubud, so after finding Ketut the first day, we opted to spend all of the second with him before going back to Totem and sailing out of Serangan. Ketut was working as a painter in 1991, but now acts as a tour guide and driver. Lucky us! Quality time for me blended with Bali exploring for the family.

We spent a fantastic day together, driving to see whatever felt important at the time. Long walks along picturesque terraced paddies (I'd spent much of my term learning about wet rice agriculture here), a few obligatory Touron sites (stunning temples, the kids were just getting a little "templed-out"), an amazing lunch at a little warung somewhere in the middle of the countryside. He talked us through many intricacies of Balinese culture. Why are there temples in the middle of a rice paddy? How is their location chosen? What is the meaning of the black and white patterns found in everything from intersections to the cloth that wraps shrines? He was so very, very good to us.

Once more, I'm reminded it really is possible to go home again, and so very grateful. What a relief, and what a gift!

Ketut Juwet is a wonderful guide. If you're coming to Bali, he can help you get around too- in comfort, and with great color! Give him a call at 0812 3977 371. His English is fantastic, but besides his good nature, it's his ability to articulate the intricate aspects of Balinese culture that make him an especially wonderful guide.

You can go home again

2013-05-07T03:00:00.000-07:00

In early April, I flew to the USA from Bali. My parents were moving out of a home they've had for 30+ years and had a daunting task of packing up, so went back to give them a hand. The blog has been in "catch up" mode since then, but we are finally pretty much caught up. I like to keep it real time but we've gradually slipped as internet access has been hard to come by. Images bring the stories to life, and it's hard to keep the posts photo-rich without a good connection!

It was an amazing trip, even waking up to scenes like this were a shock to the system. Almost as surprising as hearing a southern accent in the Seoul airport's English PA announcements. Seriously, how did that happen?

I hadn't seen my parents in three and a half years- our last visit to the states, when we drove north from Mexico in the 2009 hurricane season. Being able to arrive on my father's birthday was really special! We decorated his (German Chocolate) cake with an egg cozy that Mairen had made.

Skype is great for staying in touch, but there's nothing like being together! My brother flew in from Brookline to visit, and brought his three year old daughter- what a joy to meet my niece for the first time. I am one seriously happy auntie.

We did have blue skies... for about a day and a half, as the northern Michigan spring fought hard to come forth. It was at least enough to revisit a favorite spot again: this cool "Turnip Rock" is just down the road, and features in a whoooole lotta my childhood / young adulthood summertime memories.

It was a busy few weeks, trying to find balance between my tendency to purge (amazing how boat living can change the way you feel about Stuff) and my parent's need to take more time, and respect the history and memories that this house holds while thinking about what still has a place in their future. We made it, I helped a little, and we're still talking, so it's all good.

Before flying back to Bali, I spent three days in the home turf of Bainbridge Island. There's really just one picture that sums it up for me:

I'm just going to say that I am one very, very lucky person to call Tracey my friend. We met with babies, and now we've got high school students (eeek!). She helps hold us together back in the states. I will admit: I worried about if it would be hard to jump back in after not seeing her for nearly five years. It wasn't. My heart is full, and I am a ninny for even wondering.

And while my heart-cup runneth over, I was able to see my aunties. These four women are precious, and as i think I may have said a few times that night (I blame the killer Hitchcock martini), they make me feel like I won the jackpot in the auntie lottery.

When I first firmed up plans to go back, the children were all over me- "you're SO LUCKY!" "I'm jealous!" I tried to make them feel better about it by downplaying my plans- I mean, hey, they were in BALI. It doesn't suck. But it's true: I had a special chance to go home again. We can't afford to fly home as a family, and it was special- they just wanted to share that, to celebrate it with me- and once I could realize that, we reveled in it together instead. The real magic for me came when I realized how wonderful, how lucky I am, to be able to actually go home and feel at home. To be welcomed back by friends like Tracey and Joan, like my old Razorfish mates; to see the spring greening the island on familiar ways; to know that this place was one I could always, always come home to.

Cruiser karma and gotong royong

2013-05-06T03:00:00.001-07:00

Here in Bali, we are reminded again and again of the emphasis placed upon mutual aid: people helping each other out in a loose organization of community support known as gotong royong.

When a farmer's rice paddies are ready to harvest, the job is too big for one person to do alone; left to the individual, the harvest could not be completed in time. Instead, neighboring farmers all help each other out, moving from one farmer's paddies to another- the community together ensuring that everyone has the support that they need. The staggered planting (which provides for staggered water use) that paves the way for this system is all part of a bigger organization called the subak... but that's another story.

This type of community help is also present in the local activities. Many hands pitch in, but the work isn't necessarily paid. When we make plans to try and meet up with our friend Ketut, he has to work around his commitment to help the temple nearest his home with preparations for their odalan (a major ceremony that happens once per Balinese calendar year). He's not paid for this, but as a senior member of the community, it's part of an important role he plays and an understood commitment. This, too, embodies the spirit of gotong royong.

The cruising community isn't dissimilar from the Balinese in this regard- at least, historically although as some of our longer-cruising friends have noticed, there seems to be a shift away from the unspoken code that cruisers help each other out. It's unfortunate. Some of my earliest memories, and one factor in the appeal I saw in this way of life revolve around such situations: the day we spent clustered in a cockpit in the upper reaches of the Sea of Cortez, trying to help a cruiser cobble together a needed part from some combination of materials on hand.

So when a fellow cruiser with a seized engine asked us to help tow them through the straits between Komodo and Flores, so they could break through the strong adverse current to the inland seas of Indonesia, we said yes.

Approaching the target

They were several months out of Darwin, and many weeks without an engine. They had paid for a tow into a small port on the south side of Flores to attempt some repair and (at least as importantly) some R&R. They weren't in any danger, but they needed a break, and they needed some help.

Niall and Jamie, just after tossing the tow line across

I would like to say we always give without any expectation, but it's not entirely true. It really wasn't what we wanted to do. It was out of our way. We were already pressed to get to Bali for my flight back to the US, and only had three days to explore the park. Spending two of those towing a boat without compensation was not what we had in mind for those precious days. But it was the right thing to do, and it's part of our cruising code, our version of gotong royong.

Helping them get to the mooring off Komodo, on the way to Labuan Bajo

Not long after, we were made a stunning offer that reminds me that the universe was paying attention. On the path west towards Bali, we receive an email from friends at home with an amazing offer. Would we like to borrow their Iridium satellite phone? It is an open invitation, and a tremendously generous one. Wow- would we ever! Totem is an HF-radio centric boat, and on our Pacific crossing in 2010, the failure of our radio while we were partway from Mexico to the Marquesas gave some unexpected challenges (and a few worried family members). The family formerly known as the "Palomas" no longer needed this sat phone, but from following our travels, they knew we could use it.

I am floored by their generosity, and incredibly grateful. While we still expect to be radio centric, we've long wanted to add a sat phone to the communications mix, especially as we begin to anticipate crossing Indian Ocean next year. We simply couldn't afford it. And yet, there it was, offered with friendship and understanding. One member of the cruising family helping out another, without expectation. I take it as a lesson I shouldn't question so much the little nick in our year that was dipping out of our way to tow a cruiser in need. It all comes around, right?

On the more practical side of things, we wrote about how to safely tow a boat in this month's issue of 48 North, free online and from news stands in the Pacific Northwest.

Meanwhile, in Bali

2013-05-03T07:47:00.000-07:00

We had a crazy fast run from Gili Air down to Bali. The current here really rips, and when you're headed south, it's your friend. Both Jamie and I tried to take pictures of the water's surface to illustrate the big rip lines, but they are entirely undramatic when captured with a camera... just take my word for it. Wild! Thank goodness the (barely there) wind, swell, and current generally cooperated to run the same direction, or it could have been pretty uncomfortable.

We had picked Serangan as a good place for Jamie and the kids to park while I was back in the states. It was certainly a more crowded anchorage than we've been in for a while. We've taken a mooring in the harbor with the help of Ruth from Isle Marine services, our ship's agent for Indonesia.

Tucked into the fleet, primarily a mix of charter and working boats

We were lucky to arrive in Bali shortly before Kuningan, the last day of the annual Galungan celebrations- one of the most significant events in the 210 day Balinese calendar.

As part of the Galungan festivities, massive banners called penjor line the streets of Bali, both urban and rural. Made primarily from bamboo, rice stalks, and palm fronds, they're taken down on a specific date after the festivities end.

Even the small temple near our mooring has it's own penjor

Meanwhile, Balinese culture is already a colorful riot of rituals and symbolism at the most mundane of times, and these decorations put it over the top. The quietest country village road suddenly feels like it's waiting for a royal procession.

bigger than your average neighborhood block party

Although Bali is reported to have more than 20,000 temples, the one which is the focal point for Kuningan turns out to be, lucky us, located right by our moorage in Serangan. Thousands and thousands are expected for the ceremonies and celebration. What an amazing celebration to have the opportunity to be part of! It kind of kills me to miss out, but there's no chance of skipping out on that flight back to the USA.

Before I left, I did make sure everyone would have 'pakaian adat'- traditional dress- so they could enter the temple and participate. Here, Mairen and Siobhan are at the temple on Kuningan. On this last day, the ancestral spirits that came down to earth on Galungan (10 days prior) are supposed to return to heaven...is that what they're looking for? My favorite photo of the kids (along with others form Kuningan) is over on our Facebook page.

It's a busy, crowded affair that takes over Serangan- which is really just a small island, attached to Bali by a causeway. Life shuts down for several days in anticipation of the event. The streets are lined with vendors selling everything from pork sate to technicolor-dyed chicks (seriously, the poor little creatures are dyed in all the most obnoxious colors of the rainbow- I find this very confusing!). I can't be there, but they give a full report over Skype to the frozen wonderland that is the northern midwest in spring.

It's just that after we've woken up to snow, and Jamie sends me this picture of the girls at the beach, that I get a wee bit jealous. As much as I have daydreamed about high latitude cruising, it is possible (as I sip another hot mug of tea) that my climate now has a narrower band...centered closer to the equator.

Jamie has connected with extended family in Bali. Yes, thanks to Jamie's cousin Hilary and her husband Dan, we're related to a Balinese family! Dan's brother Curt has been living here for more than two decades. He knows how good an excellent Italian dinner (capped with homemade gelato) would taste, and treats us to a great night out. As much as we really do love Indonesian food, it's great to have a break! Curt's kids are just a touch younger than ours, but age doesn't matter when you have a big beach and surf to play in together.

As much as I miss my family, it's great to have Skype and readily shared photos. As much as I value being able to unplug, we are lucky to have the choice. Staying this connected despite our miles apart is pretty tremendous, and a far cry from what cruisers in years past experienced. So I tolerate the ridiculous hiccups in our connection, and redial their Skype account for the Nth time to get my beach report for the day.

A relaxed delivery from Komodo to Bali

2013-05-02T03:00:00.000-07:00

Delivery mode isn't something we really enjoy, but it's a reality at the moment. I have a flight to the states to catch, and it won't wait for me. There are enough nets, fishing boats, FADs and debris that we don't feel comfortable being underway at night, so it's a series of four day hops that carry us west. But it's not terrible. Not at all. The first day out of Komodo, we must have passed a half dozen different pods of dolphins, setting the tone of pleasant (if windless) days.

We think these were Risso's

There were a few times over the top of Sumbawa that we had to be directed around long nets by fishermen... making us feel that much better about deciding to stick to our plan of daylight transit.

At least this net had a big flag at one end

At the west end of Sumbawa, we anchored one night off Pulau Moyo near the low key, but spectacular, Amanwana resort. It's fun to visit remote resorts we come across- most of them are very welcoming- but we are tired from our day underway in the sun. It turns out there is a field of garden eels under the boat to explore, anyway. We leave the resort to the guests who are paying $1,000 and more per day for the privilege, and do some snorkeling off the boat instead.

Looks like eelgrass, but they're actually fishy things!

Later, a launch from the resort comes over with a few members of their security team. They're not here to hassle us, though- only to issue an invitation. Would we like to come in and have a drink at the restaurant? We declined, but I really love the fact that they came out to be so welcoming. Just blown away, actually.

Our last stop before Bali is at Lombok. More accurately, we decide to head to Gili Air, a small island off the northwest point of Lombok. The draw? Another cruising boat! It's been a long itme since we've seen any other cruisers. Nellie & Nesh on Basjako found out we were in the region from our mutual friends, JoDon and Brian, formerly of El Regalo. It's been a while since we have met up with another boat and swap stories over sundowners.

Gili Air is charming, and dips us gently back into tourist land. There are no motorized vehicles on the island, just horse drawn carts and bicycles. Restaurants and bars front the beaches and exude a super casual vibe. Shoes are superfluous, so we feel right at home! We don't have time to linger, but look forward to returning after my trip to the states.

Siobhan promises the horse she'll be back

Exploring in beautiful Komodo National Park

2013-05-01T03:00:00.000-07:00

Komodo National Park is made up of a stunning archipelago of islands between Flores and Sumbawa, Komodo island the largest. The cruising reports we've read talk about the brown, arid landscape- but what we find is lush and green, well watered from the end of the recent rainy season. Another advantage to traveling off the schedule.

We originally anticipated having several days to explore different islands and anchorages within Komodo National Park, but life had other plans- so we made the most with what we had, a day at Komodo while anchored near Pantai Merah, aka the "pink beach."

The park is well set up for tourists and gets thousands every year, but the docks at the ranger station were quiet during our off-season visit. We disembarked, and after buying a silly number of tickets to cover different park fees, departed on a hike with our guide in search of the famous Komodo dragons. He carried a big stick- literally- to fend off any dragons that got too curious.

The ranger was full of fascinating information about the island's flora and fauna. Somehow it's the poo that everyone remembers best. The color of Komodo dragon scat tells us what it was eating: black for boars, white for deer (presumably the bones).

Mmmmm, venison

There are periodic fatalities, nearly all from the village on Komodo, so we took the signs seriously.

Several people have been attacked by dragons already this year- we know of two rangers on Rinca, and one elderly woman from Komodo. Apparently, she fought the dragon off!

For the most part, our hike is an uneventful stroll through gentle hills with expansive views of the islands. It's hard to completely relax, given the big stick and the possibility of these speedy monitors deciding to have us for a snack, but it's a beautiful morning. When we do eventually see dragons, it is a complete surprise to me- kind of a shock, actually. We would have walked right past this one if the ranger hadn't stopped us- without looking closely, it appears to be another log on the ground.

Yikes. A face only a mother could love, except they don't either- they'll eat their young, so the juveniles spend most of their first few years up in trees.

The less romantic side of this story is the dragons we finally do see are all back near the ranger's quarters... a favorite spot, apparently, since they are attracted by the smell of food (plump tourists?). Of course, we have to take a picture near the dragon. This strikes me as a bad parenting moment, but I can't help it.

Later, we retreat to Totem and refresh from hiking in the azure waters. We've paid our snorkeling fee and by golly we're going to use it! The pink beach didn't look like much from our anchorage, but it turns out to be a pretty spot- and it really is pink, after all.

A sea snake decides to hide in the decides to hide under our dinghy at the water's edge.

I've had my fill of dangerous animals for the day and decide to get in the water instead. Where, you know, there aren't so many dangerous animals- right?

OK, so maybe some very annoying animals.

But there are stunning corals...

Beautiful anenomes...

Games of hide-and-seek...

And a coral head with the biggest population of anenomefish I've ever seen.

Labuan Bajo: back in tourist country

2013-04-29T03:00:00.000-07:00

We are working our way toward Labuan Bajo, the town at the west end of Flores. There, for the first time in many months, we've converged with the popular tourist track. Labuan Bajo is crowded with shops and restaurants geared towards visitors, from well-heeled adventurous souls to shaggy backpackers. The lure is the adjacent Komodo National Park: it's home to the famous Komodo dragons, and has a reputation for excellent diving as well.

We even got to sail a little. Crazy!

As much as we are excited to see these big monitors and experience the fantastic marine biodiversity of the park, the fact that our sights are set on Labuan Bajo because Hyo will fly out from there dampens enthusiasm on Totem. It's with mixed feelings then that we arrive, because it means her visit with us is drawing to a close. She's not just a close friend, she fits so smoothly in on Totem it's really like saying goodbye to a member of our family.

last dinner with Hyo - Labuan Bajo

It's interesting how being back along the more well-trod cruising path changes our arrival. The anchor has barely stuck in the sand before we are greeted by a longboat that offers (in good and very polite English) to help us with everything from sourcing fuel and groceries to selling pearl necklaces and carvings. It's a little more sophisticated than the guys who approached us in Maumere, but bears the same reminder: we're part of a target market once again.

the hawker posse lined up behind Totem

One of the great delights of the cruising life for our family is to step into communities and experience them without feeling like walking dollar signs. This is inevitably much more difficult when we converge with tourist tracks. I place a great deal of value on the opportunity to experience people in a new place as they may experience us: with open curiousity, but without demands. It's just a little harder in places like Labuan Bajo.

treasure trove of (mostly) pearl necklaces

What may make it somewhat different for us this time around is that our arrival in Labuan is in the off-season. Besides lowering the tourist count in town, cruising boats don't start arriving in numbers into this area for a couple of months. In Labuan Bajo, we work out a deal on diesel early on. The hawker boats don't really arrive in numbers until we are anchored out in the islands of the national park, a few days later.

Hard selling begins in earnest when several boats tackle us at once (making me nostalgic for the unspoken one-dugout-at-a-time pecking order of Papua New Guinea) in an anchorage off Komodo island. It's a little overwhelming, because we were at the end of a long day. Everyone wants to talk at once earn their chance for a sale by being louder then their neighbor. Talking to the guys (because inevitably here, they seem to be male), we convince them that we will happily look at their wares tomorrow and are interested in a few specific things (I want to find a shirt and carving to bring back for friends in the states, and am curious to see more of the pearls for the same reason). With seeds planted for items they can bring tomorrow, they switch gears from selling and we can actually have a conversation and learn about their village and life on Komodo. Do we get this chance to just sit and talk because there aren't a pile of cruising boats around? Maybe. They do come back the next day, of course, and as I suggested I make a few purchases. It gets a little chaotic and we find ourselves wishing there were other boats to distract some of our would-be suppliers. So... maybe it's *not* easier off season? I don't now. But it really was pleasant to talk to them, once they got that we Would Not Buy... that day, anyway.

This is just one peek at how it looked when the sellers came by the following day. It was MAYHEM.

Everybody is vying for attention for their goods

We bought a few things, as we planned, and as we had told them we would- but it kind of gave me a headache.

It was a relief when the 43m Calliope came in and they took off for greener pastures. YOu know what, though? The guys came back later sporting branded shirts / caps, and bringing happy reports of a pleasant crew on the megayacht. Nice.

A few days later, anchored off Gili Lawa Laut, we see some of the same guys that had been on Totem at Komodo. We have spent enough of late that interested in buying anything more, but find they are interested in bartering. It's unexpected, since other cruisers we had asked about trading in Indonesia indicated that it just wasn't done- unlike PNG, there's a cash economy and the barter system isn't typical. It turns out we have some fenders and line that they'd love to have, so a few small deals are struck.

We traded for this stunner of a fish. OMG it was delicious.

We invite them aboard for a cold drink, but a day-trip boat arrives from Labuan Bajo and opportunity awaits. Before leaving, though, they tell us this spot Totem is in gets rolly- since we plan to stay until morning, they recommend we move to another bay around the corner if we'd like a good night's sleep.

We moved, and it was awesome.

I'm so happy they shared this with us. There, in a heartbeat, returns the spirit I'd missed somewhat during our stay in Komodo. Whether we move or not, they have just treated us like people instead of dollars. I sit in the cockpit and just grin.

The lovely islands of Riung

2013-04-26T03:00:00.000-07:00

Picking our way between reefs into Riung offered plenty of excitement for Jamie, Hyo and me but was just another day underway for Siobhan. She crashed for a cockpit nap as we wandered through the pretty string of islands that make up a park near the town of Riung.

We decide to find a spot that our friends on Paikea Mist had stopped in last year. They jokingly referred to it as Anchorage 102- the unsung anchorage that didn't make the cut for the "101 Anchorages in Indonesia" cruising guide.

It's beautiful. And it offers one of my favorite things, a fun little hike to a view.

There are a lot of really great things about having Hyo on board. This one is way down low on the list, but I have to admit, it is really nice to be able to take a family photograph. We rarely have the extra pair of hands! Hyo puts us through paces and we end up with a few favorites- this one is mine.

The hike is mostly uneventful, except when we look down at the beach where our dinghy is and see some domestic tourists trying on our snorkeling gear. They're not malicious, just having fun, but it's precious gear being mistreated and it's ours, anyway! Not cool. I yell down at them and they put them back in the dinghy.

We spent a heavenly day here. The little beach is a dream for the kids, who set up camp and make fairy houses under a tree.

We spend some time exploring underwater. Lately I feel like a lionfish magnet. Swimming to shore from the boat, this is the first thing I see when the water shallows up.

I find many of my favorite anenomefish friends (Dan I promise I do look at more than just fish, though. I do. Sometimes. OK, so I love the fish! But I love the nudibranchs too).

This clowfish came WAY out of his anenome. Usually they are neurotic little fish, playing hide and go seek with you in their symbiotic little home... then there are the extroverts. Well, this guy actually swam up and nipped Niall on the forehead!

This was the one that really stumped us. (Dan. Note. Not a fish). We posted it up to our Facebook page (if you're not following, check it out!), and had the really neat experience of someone who saw it there helping us to identify the creature. Christopher Mah was able to help ID this funky creature, which we teasingly labeled Stump the Biologist. But really, what do YOU think this looks like?

It's Astropecten, don't you know. Well, we didn't but the awesome Chris did. The trick was that this is just ONE leg of the full creature. Echinoderms are his particular area of expertise. If you want to know more, see his Echinoblog - he also edits the World Asteroidea database.

Westbound on Flores

2013-04-24T03:00:00.000-07:00

It takes five painful days for our visas to be extended in Maumere. With every night we spend in the rolly anchorage, I get a little more cranky - it's really hard to get a good nights' sleep, and the constant motion is a strain. I'll take sailing through the big, (long period!) ocean swells ANY time over this discomfort.

We leave as soon as we can, and get to a small bay on the west side of the large bay where Maumere is located. We nose our way in carefully: charts here are terrible, and we have no other cruiser-reported knowledge of the anchorage. But it's approaching evening, the water is flat, and a small group of fishing boats all the way inside suggest it's a good place to stop and rest.

The hillsides are so vibrantly green, Jamie jokes that we must be in Scotland in the spring.

The fishermen leave as sunset approaches, out for a night of fishing off the FADs (Fish Aggregating Devices) that light the bay. We get few smiles and waves- and, of course, photographs. Check out the guy holding up his yellow mobile phone for a snap.

We have a blissful night, truly heavenly, in water so still it's as though we were tied to a dock.

Our destination the following night is unknown- we'll be trying to find a roadstead spot to anchor Totem. To ensure we find a place to park with sufficient time (light overhead is essential to see the shallows), we make a sunrise departure. As we pass this FAD, a lineup of bleary eyed fishermen wave us on our way.

Hyo does some spotting from the bow to help keep us away from shoals as we pick our way back out of the nook.

I wish I could say we had a great sail, but it's another day of motoring for Totem. We expected contrary winds during the NW monsoon- hey, you can always go upwind!- but we didn't expect so little wind. There's rarely enough to make us move, no matter which direction we want to go.

Poking around the corner on our westbound leg for the day, there's a dramatic view of an island we hadn't seen before. It's an ominous sign to see the plume from the top. As we watch from the cockpit, the plume grows rapidly to a large cloud of ash.

At this point we realize there are some serious safety issues that come with sailing in Indonesia which we had not previously considered.

For all our research into local security, this kind of natural event had not been on our radar. We're about 3 miles from the island, which really is too close for comfort.

We have no internet connectivity, so send a radio message to our friend Tim in the States. He's able to do some quick research, and finds out that this volcano has been at a similar level of alert to Mt St Helens before the big blast in 1980. We're moving away from it. I decide not to even look up information on pyroclastic flow. I don't want to know! Totem is soon upwind of any ash, leaving the very corrosive, acidic fallout behind.

Tim helps us get up to speed. It's another in a series of eruptions here that have been increasing. For all the drama and brief stress it gave us, it's hard to ignore the powerful beauty of this natural force.

Portraits from the market

2013-04-23T03:00:00.000-07:00

One of the most enjoyable ways for me to get in tune with a local community is to visit the public market. Markets are hubs of life: you see what people eat, what they wear, how they interact. Oh, and it's a good place to pick up fresh provisions- yes, that too. I steal away early one morening to the market in Geliting, and find it full of pleasant meetings and new discoveries.

For all the modern products and trappings that have worked their way into Indonesian life- everyone has a cell phone- it is refreshing to see something as visibly traditional as the ikat sarongs, present in force. This woman was waiting for her corn to be ground. Agriculture is dominated by many small farms- not large agribusinesses- and corn is a common crop, along with rice.

The market runs between the waterfront and the main road, with the back side being very practically used for the fish market. Small boat pull up with their catch, and organized sellers have their fish arranged for sale in small stalls. These men were selling shark. They couldn't tell me what kind, but then again, I'm not articulate in the local terms for different shark species. At least they are selling the meat, and not just finning them for the insatiable Chinese market...such a destructive practice that has been the norm in what weve seen.

I tried to be subtle about eavesdropping on this group but I was so curious. The man and (I'm guessing) his wife, left and right, were bargaining over the chicken. A sale ws not made.

One of the hallmark accessories for women here are ivory bracelets. Traditionally, they really were made from ivory- elephants still live in a few corners of Indonesia, and the tusks came here through trade. Most of the bangles I see appear to be man-made materials, but a few classics remain. I stopped to talk with this woman, to ask if I could take a photograph of hers, and learn a little more about them. Buying a few bunches of the greens she had for sale to break the ice and elicit a smile, she was happy to pose and show off her bracelets for me. They were passed from her mother, and will go to her daughter.

I love this photo and want to give her a copy, but realized too late that she not only does not know her address (postal service is kind of an anomaly) but is illiterate (I had handed her my notbook to write down her name/village). Since we sail away later that day, there's no practical way I can get one to her. Maybe made into a postcard?

In the covered area where dried fish are for sale, these women buy patterns for dying ikat.

Every once in a while, I see something that gives me tremendous faith that we aren't doomed to kill our planet with plastic. Here in Geliting, an enterprising tempe seller has wrapped his blocks of the fermented soybean staple in banana leaves instead of plastic. I am uplifted! He is a little surprised by my somewhat over the top reaction, but in a country where little bits of plastic packaging seem to be everywhere, it gives me hope. This is the perfect packaging for the fresh tempe, which must be eaten within a couple of days anyway.

I wandered past the bags of home grown tobacco, probably looking like quite a tourist with my camera hanging over my shoulder. This man asked me to take his photograph behind his piles of dry tobacco leaves, and was near theatrical in his posing. He wanted to be sure I captured him with smoke coming out of his nose... OK.

I wander over to buy a sticky rice cake and some of the mud-thick Indonesian coffee for breakfast, and find a band set up and performing at the end of a row of stalls. It's dissonant at first to my uninitiated ears, but the different tones and rhythms soon find a ribbon of sound that weaves into my senses. I'm transfixed by the woman who stops to dance alonside them. This is uncharacteristic of the highly restrained Indonesians, who would place higher value on aloof appreciation than her unabashed and impromptu participation, and she gets a few stares...myself included. I am transfixed.

Here, there's a wild abundance of ikat patterns for sale. This man walked me through motifs, from birds to boats to houses and people- the most popular is the flower, and I'm told a particular one is emblematic of the area. The intricate patterns are the hallmark of womens sarongs, while men's are more restrained plaids of blue and black with more simple white motifs incorporated through ikat.

The beautiful textiles of Flores island

2013-04-22T03:00:00.000-07:00

Indonesia has a rich variety of textiles produced and used. Just as the archipelago is a kaleidoscope of cultures, the variation in textiles produced (and how they are used) varies significantly from one island or region to another. The technique known as ikat (originally a Javanese word, which means tied, or knotted) is produced with distinct vibrance on Flores.

Textiles don't survive well over time, so it's hard to know how long these have been produced, but the production and technique have been recognized for centuries...even the local word has come into use for similar styles of fabric created in different parts of the world.

One of the treats in Flores is to see how this traditional cloth is still the standard for clothing for many. The Flores style is specific: the finished fabric is tied into a long tube, which the wearer steps into. Men wrap it at their waist, rolling the excess cloth down. Women wear it this way, too, although usually higher up- well above the waist- but also commonly drape it over one shoulder. The lower slung portion gribbed to the body by an elbow, or weighed with precious cargo.

Our second day in Geliting, Hyo and I followed a guy we had met on the beach up the path toward his kampung- Jimmy insisted on helping us flag down 'ojek' rides (shared motorcycles, which stand in where public transportation doesn't exist) into Maumere. We stopped to chat with his wife on their porch while he went to the main road. To my delight, Maria had been in the middle of the early stages of the ikat production process. I had hoped to share this with the family while we were in Flores, and to have it show up right in front of us was serendipity.

Maria met my enthusiasm with warmth and was happy to pull out parts of various sarongs that she had in progress. The first stage, what she'd been working on when we stopped by, is laying out the warp threads and binding them in a pattern; bound areas resist the dye, creating the pattern in the final product.

Once the pattern is complete, warp threads are removed in bundles. The bundles are tied in groups based on the color of dye to be used: here, blue or black.

After dying, the threads are reassembled for weaving. Women on Flores use backstrap looms, where tension from the wearer's posture helps keep threads in place. It's a painstaking process, and threads must be constantly adjusted to avoid any blurriness in the lines; the most valued textiles are those with crisp, fine patterns from intricate designs and careful weaving.

The patterns incorporated have meaning. They are motifs that often have cultural significance, and can be distinguishing characteristics calling out the area that the weaver hails from on the island.

Hyo had some help stepping in to model this sarong. Stiff from dyes when new, they soften with washing and over time...but it makes getting into one a little tricky. Jimmy helped!

When we returned to look at the ikat samples in progress and make friends. The kids brought a soccer ball for the village children- score another hit for soccer ball diplomacy! Lots of excitement as it flew around the packed dirt ground of the courtyard among the homes.

Playing tourist around Maumere

2013-04-19T03:00:00.000-07:00

There's a deadline for us to get to Maumere and submit our passports to Immigration for a visa extension, so while we could happily linger at Pulau Hoga it's time to head south. It's a bumpy ride for a couple of days. I'm just a little grumpy because it makes life a little more challenging. I want Hyo's visit to be perfect! It's ironic because she's very zen about it all, nostalgic for cruising and actually really enjoying the rolly ride we have down to Flores island.

In Maumere, we struggle to find a good anchorage (NW winds this time of year make most of the bay exposed) but settle in with a stern hook near the village of Geliting. It probably would have been more comfortable in the islands to the north side of the bay, but we need easy access to town for visits to Immigration. It is never easy and takes multiple trips. Our first extension, in Ambon, took 3 visits to their office (4 if you count being sent away to make photocopies of key passport pages, then coming back again). This turns out to have been efficient compared to the experience in Maumere, where it eventually took 5 days and 4 (5) visits to have the visas completed.

With days to wait, we indulge in a little touristing. There is a spectacular natural wonder here, just a few hours drive from Maumere: the Kelimutu. Three calderas, high up a domant volcano, are each a vibrant- and different- color. Not only that, but the crater lake colors change on a regular basis, based on the composition of minerals inside.

We've now begun to overlap with territory I backpacked through more than twenty years ago. A lot has changed, including the color of the lakes! During our visit, they were black, green, and a gray/blue. I remember a red lake, and a bright blue one, from 1991. Even Google Earth shows yet another band of color:

It was the non-lake views that most captured Niall. He actually got a little teary, looking out at a landscape that reminded him of the Pacific northwest. Pine trees lined the altitude slopes, and misty fingers of clouds worked their way up between them. Fuzz your eyes a little, and it does feel a little like a Olympic range view.

It's the terraced rice paddies we see on the way back down that really take me back. We haven't seen these yet, although Indonesia is a massive producer (and exporter) of rice. I spent time as an undergrad researching rice agriculture in Indonesia, so now it's my turn to get a little teary at these beautiful and familiar landscape views.

On the road back to Maumere, we pass by a village that is still based on very traditional construction and practices. This 'adat' community has, as most of Flores, embraced Christianity. What makes them different is that the animist beliefs of their traditional culture have been incorporated into their current belief system. It's not uncommon for blends like this to occur; what's unusual is to see the traditional values taking such a prominent role relative to the "modern" religion.

Unfortunately, there's a lot we don't understand. My Indonesian is pretty good- I wouldn't say fluent, but totally conversational- but it's not good enough to understand the rapid-fire (and sotto voce) explanations given by one of the young men in the village. There's a lot of vocabulary I'm just not familiar with. But we can see the elements that make up their ceremonies, their sacred objects and sacred places. Even with a partial understanding, it's fascinating, and something I hope we can learn about later to filter our experience more intelligently.

For now, we use the opportunity to explore, to make friends, to try to be gracious as they share their personal story.

Visiting a Bajo (Bajau) village

2013-04-18T04:33:00.000-07:00

The first visitor to Totem in Hoga, Pondang, picked Jamie up for a spearfishing jaunt on our second morning there. Motoring his long boat to the outside of the conservation areas, they worked with fisherman netting from their small boats. Jamie came back with tales of these efficient fishermen, who it turns out belong to an ethnic group called Bajau.

Traditionally maritime nomads, the Bajau are spread across a wide area in Southeast Asia, with large numbers in Malaysian Borneo and the Philippines. Indonesia has many communities too, here called 'bajo'- or like the village we're next to, 'sama.' They have their own languages, culture, and as Jamie gets to experience firsthand- are naturals in the water, with wicked fishing expertise.

They formerly were entirly mobile, whole communities living from their boats. The moden Bajao still live on the water, but in island-like stilt villages instead of vessels. Jamie's spearfishing buddy, Pondang, lives in the Bajo village off Pulau Kaledupa, across the channel from Hoga. Built entirely over water, with about 1/2 km separating them from the island, the community is accessible only by boat.

Pondang invies us to visit his home in Sama Bahari, the bajo village across the channel. We're pleased to accept. It's just a short dinghy ride away to another world. Separated from the mainland by a good distance, this island of stilt homes has almost everything they need. A mosque. A school. Many little shops.

His wife makes us delicious cups of tea and serves cookies alongside. We sit outside and talk with him (she's a little shy, but also pulled away when his mother shows up with a dugout of fish, and crosses to another village to help prepare the catch). We make conversation and try to engage the very curious crowd that has gathered around.

Children run along narrow boardwalks over the water. These kids don't have a soccer field, but they've got the water to splash and play in- we have always liked to say we have a huge backyard, and they show what it really means.

I've grossly overpaid (it happens!) for some squid purchased from a boat that came by Totem. Pondang wants me to come to the Bajo market and pay a fair price. We like squid and they are terrifically abundant here, so, no problem getting more! The little market is on Pulau Kaledupa, across the water from the stilt village. I pay a fraction for my squid compared to the boatside seller.

Pondang drives our dinghy on the way back. I'm so grateful to him for letting us into his home and his world, and for another great memory of our time in Indonesia.

Wakatobi: beautiful water, troubled water

2013-04-17T04:09:00.000-07:00

We've been hearing for a while about the impressive underwater life in the Wakatobi region (cruiser types, this is probably spelled Wakatohi on your charts, a strange error since it's the acronym built from the first two letters of the names of the four islands that make up the group). It seems to be talked about in nearly the same tone as Raja Ampat. It's promising.

We anchor on the south side of Hoga island, a speck off Pulau Kaledupa. We'd heard there were moorings here and are keen to use them if possible so we can lower the possibility of damaging the reef below. Our first few passes on the buoys suggest they are completely inadequate- more like small vessel tie-ups for dive sites, which is exactly what they prove to be.

It's the "off" season, so once again we are the only cruising boat in the area. It's a beautiful big anchorage area, however, and easy to see how the fleet of rally boats will fit here in August. Hyo and I swim to the reef, eager to get our heads underwater and begin communing with the fish. It's pretty, but we have poor vis- probably mostly because it's late in the day. Mostly, what disappoints us is the trash. For the duration of our swim, there is at least one piece of garbage always in sight, and a constant flow of plastic bags and foil packaging pushes past us in the water.

Totem is visited by a few local boats. One of the first to stop by is helmed by Pondang. He is helpful and interesting to talk to, and we learn a lot; Jamie makes plans to go spearfishing with him in the morning. Pondang's brother is a dive master on Hoga, so we also arrange to go dive, and get closer to the beautiful reef we've been hearing about.

Hyo gifts us with the dive, and it is out of this world. Niall is able to come with us- the girls still need more experience and confidence in the water. But it is an amazing thing, to be able to experience this incredible world underwater as a family.

The reef really is stunning, although I still give the "wow" award to Raja Ampat. There is a stunning variety of life, from the half-dozen species of nudibranch to the lobsters hiding in crevices, the waving gorgonian fans, the turtle that stops by to visit, more varieties of anenomes- and anenomefish- than I've seen in such a short span, and of course the schools of fish (a large group of barracuda are resident near the channel marker). Breathtaking!

It's hard not to let all the garbage in the water get in the way of really enjoying it as much as we could. Each piece adds to the sad commentary, an in-your-face smack of how the world's oceans are being trashed. There's more on the beach, of the same plastic bottle and bag variety we see everywhere in Indonesia. Truly, everywhere. This is a country with mass access to cheap consumer plastic goods, no functional systsem for managing garbage, and a culture that things it's perfectly fine to toss your empty water bottle into the drink. Depressing. The amount of change needed is massive.

Cruisers have raved about how Wakatobi is a place of hope in Indonesia where there was a functional, active system for waste management. Gondang, the dive master, tells me that during the tourist season, resorts on the island hire people to keep it picked up and pristine. It's not the high season, so all the trash that is chucked on the ground stays. The pretty beaches they saw during the high season were just a temporary whitewash that covers up the real problem, the systemic problem underneath.

It's still spectacular, and still among one of the more beautiful underwater realms we've visited.

Friends from afar

2013-04-15T03:00:00.000-07:00

We are watching weather the whole time we’re in Banda, because our dear friend Hyo is coming to meet us. But she’ll be meeting us at an island on the other side of the Banda Sea, and we have a passage of several days to get there. Luck is with us and we arrive in port at Wangi Wangi literally a couple of hours before her flight lands. Yes, that was a little close!

She has the best laugh! On Merlin, New Cal., 2010

Hyo is part of our cruising family. She crossed the Pacific with sv IO the same season we did in 2010. Along the way, we shared many anchorages and built some great memories together. IO has since been sold and she’s working and living ashore back in Canada.

We are so excited that she decided to come spend a few weeks with in Indonesia (the girls even made up “countdown calendars”). It reminds me that one of the real joys of cruising are the fast friendships that form. It stands in stark contrast to our land based life. why is that?

It’s probably easier to meet people, because as fellow boaters far from home, you immediately have a number of things in common. The usual resources and safety nets aren't necessarily available. Cruisers rely on each other by necessity, which may be why friendships tend to fast-forward. It could also be that paths cross, diverge, and re-cross: so we know we need to make the most of a fleeting moment. We also simply have fewer distractions: we lead lives that are in many ways less cluttered with false priorities, and are able to more readily put time into human relationships.

Whatever the cause, after sharing an anchorage for a few nights we typically know people better than if they’d been our neighbors on land for years. Except with Hyo, it wasn’t an anchorage. It was the freaking Pacific Ocean. We have just a little bit of history.

It is a joyful reunion. We have so much to catch up on: especially, just to be together. Oh, and then there are the goodies... oh my. Chocolate. Courtesy flags (bonus for anyone who can ID the flag on the table!). Cabin fans. And not least: the coveted new TinTins.

Banda: the memories that stick

2013-04-12T03:00:00.000-07:00

Jubilant Mairen

A big part of the reason we are out on this crazy adventure as a family is because Jamie and I believe it is a great way for our children to grow up, to appreciate the world around them and our place within it. But we wonder what memories will stand out for them in the decades to come, what experiences are etched or shape them. Every once in a while, we find ourselves living moments that resonate in that space. They are reminders that- for now, at least- this is the right path for us.

Climbing Gunung Api will surely be one of these indelible moments. It was this image of Mairen at the summit that brought it home. It’s not like we’ve had to train for weeks and wear special equipment or hire a guide or any of that other baggage. It’s that the volcano is a massive, looming presence in our view. The sides plunge down from a little over 2100 straight down to the bay where Totem is moored. No massive peak, but with a drop straight to the sea, it beckoned us! And climbing it was hard. We were soaked, jelly-legged fools at the top. She was triumphant at the achievement: climbing this peak that hovered behind the mist above us all week.

In each of their very different personalities, the children experience it in entirely different ways, but each one feels like a marker. For Niall, it was stepping into Explorer shoes, and documenting every step with our GoPro (we have got to get smart with the editing on that thing so I can start sharing video!).

Ryan picked us up in his boat, to head to the trail

Siobhan, our youngest, has not been our strongest hiker. *cough* …by kind of a long shot. And being the youngest, that’s sometimes been the limiting factor for places we go and hikes we tackle. So for her, it was simply doing this. She did a fantastic job, and she knows it. Yes, Ryan gave her a lot of help, but she still got to the top on her own two feet.

Ryan and Siobhan the summit. Yes, he was barefoot the whole way.

The words Gunung Api are, literally, fire mountain- and translate from Indonesian as volcano. This particular peak last erupted in 1988, and black streams from the last lava flow still mark sides of the peak.

Much of the hike is under a jungle canopy, the shade helping us keep cool. However, it’s nearly straight up. No switchbacks ease the strain on our thighs. The trail turns quickly from humus and leaves to a talus-like volcanic rubble, and eventually to a finer scree as we come out of the lush forest and into the exposed top stretch.

When we reach the top, about 90 sweaty minutes later, we are soaked and exhausted, but the view is exhilarating. Mairen nailed it with her exultation at the top.

There's nothing really specific to the cruising life that lets us find moments for our children where they can tackle a challenge and learn about themselves in the process. But I feel lucky to find really unique opportunities that build their life story, fill out their role in our family narrative, with strength and interest and achievement. These kids have some stories to tell.

A few more pictures from our morning on the mountain...

Jamie takes in the view

On the way back down

Snorkeler's view of the lava flow

No matter where you go in town, the volcano is always "there"

Adopted again, and taught about Spice

2013-04-10T03:00:00.000-07:00

The kindness of strangers is incredible. Once again we find ourselves in gratitude for the great friendliness and hospitality of Indonesian families who have welcomed us as honored guests, and wondered what we ever did to deserve such gracious treatment.

We met Ryan and Nini because their family home at the foot of Gunung Api, the volcano island across from Bandaneira, was near our mooring site in the harbor. Siobhan and I paddled over in the kayak as part of an afternoon of exploration, and to introduce ourselves. We expected to be anchored by their house for a few days and wondered if they might be as curious about us as we were about them.

The house across the water

Nini and I chatted for a few minutes, between kayak and breakwall. Before we paddled off, she brought out a few dried nutmeg fruit in a plastic tub for us to share back on Totem. The next day, the girls and I made macaroons to refill her container, and brought our treats back…and so it began.

On our return visit, we snacked on “bamboo rice” on their porch. It’s a sticky rice cooked with coconut milk in rolled banana leaf logs to look a bit like a section of bamboo. Slightly smoky from the wood stove, slightly sweet from the rice and coconut, I find them addictive. Every time we see her after this, another bag of them ends up in mind hand.

We ended up having dinner twice at their home. Delicious bakso, a noodle and vegetable soup with fish balls. You dress it up to taste with vinegar, sambal (chili sauce), and kecap manis- the sweet Indonesian soy sauce. Another day, we’re treated to whole grilled fish.

One morning, they take us walking in the hillside behind their house to show us their spice trees. Their extended families live in about a dozen homes dotted at the foot of the volcano. As we walk by, relative lean out to smile and wave or come out to join us.

Planted years ago- they can only speculate- these trees provide both food and income. They show us each one, and we collect windfall fruit as we go. Nini shows me how to choose the best ones to pick up. Ryan’s mother tears around collecting twice as many as any of us manage to gather.

This whole adventure is to share what they know about something they know we are curious about, and they patiently answer all our questions.

We leave with tiny saplings of nutmeg, kenari, coffee, tamarind, and cinnamon. Dug during our walk on the hillside, then carefully packed in the rich black earth and set into a bucket to transport back to Totem, I think they hope we’ll be able to keep these with us until they get home to the US. I’m just hoping to keep them alive long enough to replant in someone else’s care. But it’s the gesture that matters: they’re giving a piece of their history, our history, to take along our journey.

Exploring the Banda islands

2013-04-08T03:00:00.000-07:00

There’s still a bit of a side roll slapping Totem around when we head out to Banda, but it’s manageable and we’ve got a bit of moonlight to help us along. The rich history of these islands have made them one of our most anticipated stops in Indonesia. As they fade into view in the early morning light, I can’t help but feel a little tingly with excitement.

Summary backstory, for those unfamiliar: this handful of islands, in something of a nautical no-man’s land of Indonesia, were once the world’s only source of nutmeg. Nutmeg’s wonders are written of as far as ancient Greece, and it was long credited with a variety of health and medicinal properties. In Europe, it more costly more per ounce than gold, offering these distant nations incentive to find the source. When nutmeg was purported to aid bubonic plague, popularity exploded and the opportunity to get rich through the trade headed exploration up further. The first Portuguese ships arrive in Banda in 1511, and broke centuries of Venetian control (through their trade with Constantinople). By 1609, Neira (one of the primary settlements in the islands) became the first Dutch territory in the archipelago they would one day help to consolidate as Indonesia. For a while, the English maintained a foothold in the spice islands through Run island, just west of Neira, but eventually traded it to the Dutch for their small territory in the New World. We know that the island as Manhattan today. The voyages of Columbus, Magellan, Drake and countless others who do not have historic fame to recall their names were all centered around this race for control of spice.

So, yeah, in the scheme of modern world history, it’s kind of an important place.

The nutmeg, cloves, and cinnamon which once drove explorers to Indonesia have long since been dispersed to grow in other places around the world. It’s a sleepy island town now, but reminders of the past are everywhere. To be able to walk through and touch pieces of this history feels just a little surreal.

The older if the two forts on Neira is little more than overgrown ruins, but can still be imagined.

The “newer” (1611) Dutch fort is restored and somewhat maintained. We have it entirely to ourselves for about half an hour before the caretaker arrives. He’s happy to help fill in some gaps to the extent that we can ask questions and understand answers in Indonesian.

In the Rumah Budaya museum, Ibu Feni cranks up a gramophone to give us an audible peek into the era of colonial wealth and extravagance. The kids test drive traditional local weapons and a ceremonial Porteguese helmet, while Jamie weighs a piece of ‘uang potong’- cut money, the first currency introduced by European traders- in his hand.

There are shades of the past sprinkled around… from the cannons that look cast aside along the road to those placed decoratively along waterfronts, to the marble patio tiles that were almost surely brought by ship around Africa to enhance to a wealthy Dutch perkenier’s residence.

We treat ourselves to dinner ashore at the lovely Mutiara guesthouse, and feel a touch of colonial elegance at their garden table- shaded by nutmeg trees. It’s a delicious dinner- high end dining for $7/plate. A vegetable soup cooked spice-island style with cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg… whole grilled fish with a tangy, spicy sauce…roasted eggplant with a sauce of kenari, the wild almond trees interplanted in nutmeg groves to offer shade…two kinds of rice… stir fried vegetables with shrimp… an avocado and chocolate puree for dessert. I have probably forgotten something. The bubbly Abba put on a Travel Channel show program that gave a tour of the spice islands, another vehicle for us all to learn from. Needless to say we rolled ourselves out of there.

See the cockatoo on the chair? How about that monster shell?

There’s so much more here than we can see. Great Indonesian statesmen spent years here under house arrest. But I guess that once again we’re feeling a bit of our own slant on history, and more interested in reliving the aspects that touch our lives than those that are specifically Indonesian. We could probably rush around and “do” everything on the historical points list here, but who wants to rush? We get so much more out of leisurely visits, getting to know people, then blindly gawping at all the sights. There’s still never enough time.

Reading notes- Nathaniel’s Nutmeg, by Giles Morton, is a fascinating and highly readable book about the history of the Banda islands. We highly recommend it for anyone coming this way! Jack Turner’s book Spice offers a broader context and more interesting reading on the subject.

The boat as a platform for entertainment

2013-04-05T03:00:00.000-07:00

Good weather is elusive, and we’re not interested in a bash to the Bandas, so a week passes in Saparua. With the extra time, perhaps it’s not too surprising that we made a few friends ashore.

Twelve year old Jundri was the first: he and his friend Onget paddled out to Totem on a raft of lashed-together sago trunks. They came back to play, swim and visit many times. He invited us to his home, where his mother fed us delicious doughnuts and sold us some arak. For the uninitiated, arak (or arrack) is Indonesian moonshine, made from fermented palm flowers. I predict this bottle will sit unconsumed for a while.

One of Jundri's relatives had the same first and middle name as Jamie. Brothers from another mother.

Flying a kite with Jundri near the fort, we met a couple of Fullbrights who had been English teachers at the local high school in prior years- they work in Jakarta now, and were back to visiting their former students.

After a fun afternoon on the boat with the whole crowd, their students were back a number of times in the following days. I’m sure it was all about practicing their English, right?

Squalls didn't matter much. Just keep swimming.

They brought is local snacks to try: crunchy treats, all of which included either cinnamon, nutmeg, or kenari (nuts similar to almonds). Good times!

[photos photos photos]