'Ere there be dragons...

We had an unexpectedly nice time in Dili with its friendly harbormaster and lovely foods and then stopped in along the coast at Oe-cusse. Whilst looking this area up, we stumbled upon a guardian article about their political and economic situation titled 'Timor-leste's big spending: a brave way to tackle economic crisis or just reckless?' Which really helped us understand what we then found there.

Oe-cusse is part of East Timor but in a separate enclave further west along the North coast of the long wriggly Timor island. This place really stands alone under the surrounding mountains and has a very strange air about it. Wandering around, it appeared mostly deserted. We couldn't find a veggie stall or anyone to chat to; but as the tumble weed blew, after it scuttled a uniformed worker diligently trying to sweep it up.

The busiest scene we found. A construction worker handing out raw meat from his handlebars at one of the many government investment sites. Out of shot is the big billboard saying what it cost and the security guard looking on. As you can see the streets were overbuilt and well maintained; quite different from neighbouring areas especially Dili. The orange people are the ever lurking ninja Street sweepers.

The cafe bar on the beach appeared frequented only by a few Europeans sipping their espresso with their heads deep in paperwork. They hardly raised a smile when Ravi went to town removing and replacing rocks from the fountain, creating quite the mud bath.

The less said about Kupang, our next stop on Western Timor the better. We were continuously hounded by touts with their 'hey mister' wanting to arrange everything for us: Fuel, water, taxi, clearance, drugs, women... By far the best policy was to give them all a wide berth and arrange things ourselves. We have since heard many stories of rip offs and bad experiences so our instincts served us well. Some form of transport was unavoidable since the offices we must visit were a long way. Taxis were cheaper as we walked away from the Anchorage and bartering was a must.

After long and tedious complications we managed to come out with not only the visa we wanted but it extended too. Customs, quarantine and the harbormaster were all easily done without interference from the agents who were unpopular with the officials we spoke with. They are trying to reduce corruption but it suits the touts and agents to encourage it so that visitors will feel that they need their services to negotiate their way through. So at the end of a day and a half of beaurocracy we were the happy holders of clearance and three passports stamped with 60 days worth of visa.

Duncan did many water and fuel runs both of which were much cheaper going in person to the vendor rather than through the offers of the touts. We caught a 'bemo' (minivan transport) to the mall, stocked up and let Ravi play in the ball pool as a reward for his patience at being dragged around all those offices then happily we could leave Kupang behind.

Kupang definitely looks better from the boat where you can't make out the heaps of rubbish, traffic and chaos...

Flat calm again we had to motor the whole way to Flores then were able to sail on to Rinca our first Komodo national park island. There, it wasn't long before we saw not only wild boars but the famous Komodo dragons prowling amongst the plastic. This one was about 2m but they can grow to three metres and 70kg. We saw at least two if not three different ones whilst at this beach and not again in the rest of our time within the national park.

The plastic on the beach, local boats buzzing around and unusually cold water conspired to make us disinclined to dive where our guide book said was good. I wish we'd been braver but we thought there would be many more opportunities. Of course we can only dive one at a time these days so our already conservative adventuring has gotten even more cautious. There are so many considerations when diving without a local guide; currents, depth, other boats, getting to and from the dive site without an outboard...

Our next stop was an enormous bay/inlet area with many little coves and long mangroved cut throughs called Lehok Ginggo
where we had a lovely time. We explored by kayak and saw lots of unusual birds and monkeys. Ravi found his ideal beach; accessed through a cave usually by kayak it was shaded most of the day and had beautiful sand and modest waves.

We then met up with friends we'd last seen in Fiji. Two boats, a trimaran with a kiwi and Dutch couple and the other a family from Belgium, Scotland and London. These guys on the catamaran Rehua (link to their blog) are still with us now and going the same way. Ravi loves having two big boys to play with, the space to scamper about and what we'd never realised; a lovely shady space to swim in the sea under Rehua's belly. We think they're fun too!

Pink beach, Komodo

Makassar reef, Komodo, too deep to anchor and possibly prohibited anyway so we drifted whilst snorkeling one at a time. (Photos by Rehua)

Gili Air, Lombok has no motorised traffic so was a great place to introduce Ravi to the joys of cycling. The Rehua crew hired some very cheaply too so we regretted putting ours through the wear and tear of the salty sand loose paths. The island is a popular backpackers haunt so our cycle ride inevitably turned into a pub crawl; half the gang preferring the cycling and half more focused on the the next establishment.

From Gili Air, we had a safe distance view of the volcano rumblings of Mount Agung on Bali. With an eruption forecast as imminent we thought we'd edge forward after checking we'd always be just out of the evacuation zone. Nothing came of it as it happens so we carried on unscathed.

Mount Agung, Bali from the Lombok strait with a fisherman from Gili Air in the foreground.

So on we've been sailing together, through the Komodo islands, along the top of Sumbawa, Lombok and on to Bali. We've been having much more difficult weather than expected, more about which in the next blog.

Sailing with Rehua between anchorages in Bali we had a rare nice easy trip and they were able to snap some photos of us in full sail with our big Genoa out for the expected light winds. We were going from Lovina to Teluk (bay) Banyuwedang, a lovely enclosed bay on the north west tip of Bali to avoid some more bad weather that was on its way.

Nappies flying and getting the odd salty splash, Ravi was inside having a doze.

Ravi is turning into the inevitable water baby he was always bound to be. This was a resort pool you could use if you bought a few beers.

Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore...

We'd got complacent after renewing our Australia visa and temporarily forgotten that time and tide wait for no-one. We found ourselves in Cairns with the realisation that there wasn't space in the season to do all we'd hoped to. Our visa for Papau New Guinea had arrived but there simply was not enough time to go to the reputedly glorious Louisiade archipelago. Yet another thing to go on the 'next time around' list.

What's the rush? Well for one thing it's cyclone season in this part of the world from December. For another, the South East trade winds die off and once further North turn into a North West monsoon making our progress more difficult as we head towards the Malacca straits and Malaysia beyond.

So better late than never we are now rushing along. the barrier reef blurred as we sailed along inside it day and night. We stopped a few times for a snorkel and then for a few days at Lizard island where there were a couple of hills to stretch our legs and a marine research station to look around. Much of the outer reef had suffered bleaching and cyclone damage in that area so though the snorkeling on Lizard island was interesting with the biggest giant clams we've ever seen, we had perhaps already seen better around the Whitsunday islands and further South. We did miss some famous dive sites so can't comment on the whole reefs health but what we saw was nothing like what I (Ruth) remember when I visited in 2002.

We aren't going to win any awards for our underwater photography yet, but we've all got to start somewhere!

It was here at the top of Lizard island that captain cook gazed out to sea attempting to find a way back out through the maze of reefs. Having already stove in and repaired his ship he wanted to be free on the open sea again. We followed the now well trodden path for nothing more than some photos and exercise as the day was too hazy to be able to discern much of the outer reef.

Ravi sleeping as he so often does in the carrier both out on walks or around town.

Rounding Cape York and in to Thursday island was thankfully benign since we'd gone to the trouble to get the tides with us. Thursday and Horn islands were hot and blustery with a rather apocalyptic feel where bush fires were raging. Ravi had his inoculations and we sorted our paperwork to clear out and notify Indonesia we were on our way.

Since leaving Australia Ravi's route map has developed a few extra kinks. The passage started out with three days of fair trade winds but then all traces died out. For the next three days we drifted and tacked against all kinds of light variable winds before finally giving in and changing our plans. It was too far to be able to motor to our planned destination of Kupang so we decided to aim for Saumlaki on the nearer island of Yamdena. We motored the whole way there as the only wind that came was the lightest of North Westerlies (less than 5kn) so it was a good decision.

Some cruising friends gave us nylon for the job so now our flags are looking much more professional. Indonesian flag.

Saumlaki is a very different place. The entrance was a delight of traditional boats and big convoluted fishing trap/ stations. Even before we anchored we'd caused a stir with people in dugouts usually with outboards buzzing around the boat taking photos of us and shouting out. This continued around town where Ravi was particularly popular. Whole families would stop their scooter jump off and rush over to take 'selfies' with us and especially if they could hold him. He got pinched from every direction and whisked away whenever they could, so after a bit we needed to find a quiet spot to give him a break!

Saumlaki port with a Dutch influenced Christian Church behind in the early morning. This was the pretty part, the town itself was a hot, busy cocophony of rubbish, dust and scooters.

At the port captain's we found out eventually that all the officials we were waiting for had gone to visit an island and wouldn't be back until late afternoon. 'No problem, tomorrow'. But we knew that the officials wouldn't like us just wandering about without clearing in so we found a quiet spot in a hotel and let Ravi have a sleep. We had lunch at a street stall where Ravi, revitalised, enjoyed his attention and his satay mixed rice and veg. Lots of photos were taken to squeels of delight from the scarved ladies.

Then we endeavoured to find the immigration office which turned out to be the guys house who by then had returned from the island jaunt.

Here's where we found our problem. There are three visa options in Indonesia. A free 30 day non renewable one available to citizens of most countries, a visa on arrival which you pay for which also gives 30 days but is extendable once only - the one we wanted, and a cultural visa which must be applied for out of the country with an Indonesian citizen 'sponsor' who guarantees your good will and good character which is valid for 30 or 60 days but then extendable monthly up to 180 days.

However we had not realised that this middle visa is only available in seaports which are near international airports. Saumlaki's airport is domestic only and so though it is clearly advertised as one of the 19 available inward and outbound clearance ports of Indonesia's 16,000 islands, it is not possible to get this particular  visa there (nor is it at the next nearest one Tual).

So we were scuppered. There's no way we could get through the whole of Indonesia within 30 days. It would be around 2,500 miles with wind and current against us for the last 800 and probably quite light winds all the time. Even if we checked out wherever we got to after 30 days, there was a high likelihood we would need to stop for water and fuel on our route onwards.

There was no budging the immigration guy though, he just couldn't give us the visa we wanted. Our only option was to take the free 30 days and accept that we had to be out after that. After a bit of deliberation we decided to get the issue sorted now whilst we had options of other countries to visit with Indonesian embassies. Darwin, Australia or Dili, East Timor. One was much more on the way than the other and according to a little online research should be perfectly possible.

We looked around a bit over the weekend, bought some water and fuel then cleared out on the Monday. Saumlaki was a difficult town to really like. The people were friendly and fun but the heat, poverty, dirt and noise were an assault on the senses. We found it particularly galling whilst nosying about to see tiny empty hovels with families living under incomplete rooves and behind broken walls whilst the cities' many churches towered above them opulent, air-conditioned; pristine.

The people living there not only have to buy drinking water but also have to buy in water which is unfit for drinking from tankers in order to wash with; that's those who have tanks. Most don't. Most have no access to hygeine nor space to breath with their tiny spaces squashed in. We see many different kinds of poverty on our travels but poverty of space with no access to drinking water is really basic need. For sale along the market street the fruit and veg supply was meagre. Onions were shipped from Java and so cost four times the price of those in Australia. We bought some eggs but they were almost all off. In the shops were mostly soap and biscuits. Life here for these people really is a daily struggle.

So on we needed to go to Dili, Timor Leste which is where we are now. We managed to sail much of the way here though the winds were often light we only motored when we dropped below 1.5 to 2kn. Mostly in the early hours of the morning when there might not be a breath. We had some variable northerly wind as we sailed along Timor Leste in the early hours of Friday, so it was nice to have peace and quiet to savour the sounds of the invisible whales nearby.

Ravi greeting the sunrise and another new place

Christo Rei overlooks Dili, Portuguese influences abound though Timor is certainly independent now and only the elite and older educated Timorese speak the language. The local tongue is a mixed dialect of indigenous language with some Portuguese words dropped in for words that were missing. Most can also speak the main Indonesian Bahasa language.

Harbour entrance mark at Dili with an early morning fisherman

Clearing in here was easy in comparison to Indonesia though we did have to pay $30 each for a visa though it was advertised as free for Europeans: UK and a few other European countries were not included.

The flag of Timor-Leste we didn't worry about hemming it since we'll be here less than a week.

We still haven't quite decided which visa for Indonesia to get here since there are costs and complications with each and we need to rush on in any case. We shall see what the weekend brings and decide on Monday. This afternoon we are enjoying a glass of Porto with some blue cheese and cured meat courtesy of the Portuguese influences here. Tonight there is Portuguese music in a nearby bar so Ravi is having a long afternoon nap under a fan to prepare for evening revels.

Blue water baby...

Finally Ravi's passport arrived on Friday. We'd applied for it when he was 5 days old at the end of September, now he's a chunky 2 ½ months. Much to every Fijians surprise a Fijian passport was never an option since neither of us have citizenship. Apart from being a little pedantic about the background of a photo which is supposed to show authorities what Ravi looks like up until he is five years old, the delays were numerous but mostly not to do with the UK passport authority. Once a countersigned photo and covering letters for all our irregularities were received, the passport was sent on the 21st November. It then proceeded to take 17 days to get here. That was on DHL expedited documents service which estimates 4-5 working days. Customs was the main problem in the UK, apparently they always sit on passports for a bit before worrying about looking at them and sending them on. At every stage it seemed to need chasing.

Anyhow back to Friday. We picked up the passport from the lovely marina ladies and then were sung out by an ad-hoc gang singing the Fijian farewell song ‘Ni Sa Lei...’ as we rowed back to Impetuous anchored outside. A sail north up to the port had us checking out just in time on a Friday afternoon... Or so we thought. 

We’d visited the port twice in the previous two days checking details would be ok for our imminent departure and enquiring about overtime fees in case we had to leave at the weekend. At neither of these visits had Peni the customs officer felt the urge to inform us that we had to add Ravi to our crew officially with immigration. Their office is in town and only open during office hours. We'd already been to see them that week to ask for a few days visa extension since we were now over the 6 months readily allowed, but no one at that time had mentioned the need for this extra form either. 

We quickly realised that we needed to stop arguing in frustration and find a taxi and get there, before the office closed in 15 minutes. We ooched and owed along the hot tarmac without shoes and flagged down the first taxi we saw. ‘Please straight to the immigration office and with the meter on please', there was no time for bargaining prices. For once no queue in immigration meant the simple and pathetically short form was filled and stamped in moments. Back at the port Peni was true to his word and waiting for us just past 4pm, his knocking off time, he didn't have the gall to charge us overtime and by half past we were free to leave. 

Smug in the knowledge that all the port officials were heading to a party so there was therefore not going to be anyone around to notice us taking a bit of time. We went into town to spend our last few Fijian dollars and back to get both dinghy's stowed away.

As dusk fell on Lautoka we pulled up the anchor and main sail waving ‘see you sometime' to friends on ‘Eos' and ‘au revoir' to this Western section of Fiji we have gotten to know quite well.

It was a gentle drift out towards the pass and a gentle drift once outside too. Still in the wind shadow of Viti Levu for many hours to come. A few squalls later then finally the SE trades graced us with their presence mid Saturday morning. Since then it has been a surprisingly rambunctious sail to New Caledonia. The forecast seemed to say 15-20 knots on the beam, ideal. However we've had the staysail stowed and the jib and main both double reefed getting sloshed by short steep waves until the last day when we've slowed ourselves to a gentle 6 knots with only double reefed jib. 

It took us just under 5 days to do just under 700 miles. Once inside the reef here in New Caledonia the sail round the island was a treat, 8 knots downwind sailing with just the jib and no more waves, Ravi enjoyed this all from his car seat. Until then we'd had to cower inside for fear of a frequent drenching from waves.

Like us all, Ravi has some places on Impetuous he loves to inhabit when on passage. Sprawled out on the leeward bunk, like everybody else is high up on the list. Fortunately he isn't too big so as not to share it. However, sharing a Lee bunk with a small baby isn't as regenerative as not sharing it; oweing to what we call the squish factor.

On passage we still sleep in the bow more often than not. Indeed with a fan on either side it's quite a pleasant place to read a book. So despite all the sloshing of the boisterous sail Ravi spent a fair amount of time in the bow. With the simple addition of his dancing birdies mobile he can spend hours orchestrating them as they sway to the rock of the boat and he rolls from pillow to pillow.

We've jammed in a spare wind vane to the side of the pilot berth, covered with a sarong and padded by a blanket it makes a great leeboard. A neat addition to what has become his bunk; with his mobile frame at one end over his quilt and an enormous pile of nappies at the other. But on passage it wasn't where he wanted to be. As the occasional wave slammed in to the hull side cascading itself across the boat Ravi would be awoken; startled, from his slumber. We call it starfish baby. Arms and legs spring out as does a certain aura of panic. Ravi didn't spend much time in his bunk.

Perhaps his favourite place is his car seat that we've bungied on to the boat. From there he can truly embrace the wonder of sailing. Smiles always abound when he is placed in it, A happiness we're keen to foster. It won't be much longer before his wriggling turns to crawling and the car seat has buckles that still work, despite the salty years of service it provided for our friends on Eos II. We haven’t told him this yet.

All in all Ravi has taken the whole experience in his stride; noticing only that whilst at sea there's always someone awake to give his head a stroke should he open his eyes when a noise disturbs him. Also at sea his dangling toys never stop dancing!

So we’re now in new Caledonia enjoying all the culinary delights a French country has to offer. The plan is to feast on baguettes, pate', cheese and wine for a few days before heading off to Australia. It will be Ravi's second blue water passage; they say that we can only dream of experiences we have already enjoyed, we often see Ravi dreaming of drinking as he sleeps. But now when he closes his eyes he has one more experience to dream of. Dreaming of blue water sailing.

Wailea...

Wailea!  Papa? How many months? 5 weeks? Ni Sa... Baby boy? Ni sa... Born here? Fiji baby? Wailea! Can I hold? Ni Sa... Bula papa!
It's hard to get anywhere in Fiji without Ravi causing quite a stir. Fijians love children in a way that's often commented on; even by people not trying to get across the market in order to catch a bus with a babe in arms. There's warmth and positivity towards all children here more noticeable than anywhere else we've been but common to all island communities. It's deep in the culture.

Wailea is a general exclamation word similar to wow. Ni Sa shows warmth and is added to lots of greetings but is used on its own to coo over Ravi. Papa is the Fijian word for baby. Fijians everywhere we go want to give Ravi cuddles. They pinch his cheeks, they stroke his arms and sniff his head showing affection similar to a kiss. Children come up and kiss him then parade him round their friends. 

Any Fijian you encounter can be willingly entrusted with holding the baby if you're trying to do something. Where else would a lone man wandering past be delighted when a tiny one only a few weeks old is thrust in their arms? It means that dragging the dinghy up the beach or rearranging shopping bags is a breeze. Given half the chance they'll keep him as long as they can; no one's ever too busy to gush over a baby. In Fiji time everything else can wait.




The school kids and Lani the teacher at these boy's school would shout Ravi Ravi from the shore out to the boat for him to come and play

The ladies in this supermarket said they would baby sit him 'come back for him when he's 12!'

Tom the chief of the village of Yalobi on Waya, Ravi with Mary who, pleased to see we used cloth nappies gave us a big one from her boys 'all grown up now'

These kids had never ventured up the path scaling the hillside but scampered up alongside us if it meant they could hang out with Ravi just a little longer... 

We're pottering along nicely here. We thought the passport might take some time and we weren't wrong... There have been several tedious stumbling blocks the trickiest of which has been getting the right background for the photo. Our first attempt was to use a photographer in town but not only was it rejected because the background was wrong, it was also technically too small and missing a border. Ridiculous we know, but it's not as easy as you might think finding a suitably coloured and clean sheet, then getting him to hold his head square on it without wrinkles. Hopefully we've finally found a solution and together with all the extra forms and proof required, the UK passport authority should be processing it any day now.

A few photos that didn't make the cut

    
 

Life continues as normal here in the meantime.  Alongside handwashing around 15 nappies a day, we've still got boat projects and fixing things as they fail. In the last month or so we've been keeping on top of the varnishing and trying to figure out why the engine wasn't starting so well.  In the end the culprit was the injectors which have now been serviced and in the mean time our exhaust muffler developed a leak and so we've re-designed that system to make it more convenient and less likely to fail in the future.  Also our main halyard winch pulled out of the mast whilst sailing.  It made a dent in the mast but could have been much worse.  It's now through bolted to the staysail winch on the other side and all the old holes are plugged. Sitka spruce whilst being light and strong does not take fittings well.  Thankfully we made the mast solid at that point so this is no problem and we're glad we already overbored and epoxied the mast track screw holes.

We had a lovely couple of weeks out at Waya staying by the village of Yalobi.  We liked it so much we are wending our way back there now.  We hope to give them our old main sail as we think the villagers will put it to good use as a shelter or for drying pandanus in order to make the mats they weave.  It's quite an industrious village what with the big boarding school serving the surrounding islands and with visits from cruise ships most weeks. It's still very much a traditional village though with a chief and a laid back friendly feel.

Yalobi village, Waya.

Ravi enjoying the sunrise outside

We tried to encourage Ravi to look at the camera but he was too overwhelmed by the sight of his beautiful wooden mast so we went with that look instead.  Along with Ravi's first photos we've lost our straightening program with our dead hard drive. A necessary tool when taking photos on a boat!

We're taking him for regular dips. Baby steps.

We lost the path on the walk up to the ridge so eventually had to abort, I was barefoot but the main problem was the mosquitoes and the sun getting higher.

Waya on the way out, we'll be back

Heeled right over he was oblivious... until we tacked!

Life never gets boring on a boat, if nothings happening you can just dance to the windscoop fluttering...

Or laugh at the clouds...



Our bright eyed boy is getting more interactive all the time...

So I'm sure some of you might be wondering how it's all going. Truthfully it's great. We can't compare parenting on land but there are loads of things great about parenting on our boat. The trickiest is probably how careful we need to be with him and the sun.  He's fine around town or rowing about as he's quite happy to have a sarong flung over his head and generally goes to sleep or has a feed. However we've found that even just the reflected sun from the water out in the cockpit has to be carefully rationed and when going for a swim not only does he risk burning but also gets cold very quickly too. All part of the learning curve! Hopefully from the photos you can see how good a time we're having, probably the most important is that we have the time to really enjoy it. All those boat jobs can wait.  We're on Ravi time.

Ravi in his carseat having a gentle sail back for his check up and immunisations