The night was rather uneventful with calm seas and very lite
winds all the way to Sawu. There were a few tankers, cargo ships and passenger
ferries to keep an eye on and at 04:10 in the morning, I was watching a large
(50m) passenger ferry bearing down on us.
As we were under sail (this is transmitted on our AIS),
under the international collision avoidance regulations the ferry was obligated
to alter course to starboard, but he just kept getting closer and closer
directly in my path.
At 1.5 miles out, I thought stuff this, and I decided to
alter my course to starboard and just before I turned, with great relief the
ferry altered his course to starboard. I still went ahead and altered my course
20 degrees to starboard just to be safe and to indicate my actions to the ferries master.
Even with both vessels having altered course, the ferry came
within half a nautical mile of us which is crazy at night, then without
warning, he altered course directly for us and tried to run us down.
I shit myself and immediately started both engines and pushed
them to full power and disengaged the autopilot. He passed behind us, then
corrected his course and disappeared into the dark of the night.
I was physically shaking with both rage and fear and grabbed
a torch and flashed my disapproval towards the bridge to let him know I wasn’t
happy with his reckless actions. I was going to give him some advice over the
radio, but thought twice as it could be recorded by the port authority and work
against us.
I carry an air horn for such events and forgot to get it in
the heat of the moment.
Either he was pissed that I didn’t get out of his way and he
took it as a challenge to his authority, or he was a demented psychopath who
just likes to scare the shit out of smaller boats, or he hates yachts or
Aussies.
Whatever the reason, this guy was in charge of a 50m high
speed ferry with maybe hundreds of passengers in his care and he should be
stripped of his captaincy for performing such a reckless act.
Lookout for this dickhead
I took a photo of his details on the AIS. It’s not worth
reporting the incident as in this country he could just pay someone to turn the
story around and before you know it, Sirocco get impounded and we get deported,
but if I see this wanker in my travels, I wouldn’t hesitate to give him a bloody
nose.
After all this excitement, I realised that we were going too
fast and would reach Sawu in the dark, so we would have to slow down. So, I
pulled the revs back to about 1200 RPM and we just putted along with both sails
up, still doing around 5 knots which made us roll a bit more in the mid ocean
swell.
We arrived at Seba, the main port of Sawu just as the sun
was coming up at 06:00, taking 17.5 hours to cover the 116-mile passage.
Even though we were both dead tired, we got Sirocco ship
shape and lowered the dinghy and got prepared to go ashore.
After a quick coffee and some breakfast, we headed into the
beach past the large jetty where there was a hive of activity as a ferry was
being loaded.
On the beach was the skeleton of a large wooden boat and the
town its self, was old and run down.
Sawu is very dry, but has lovely beaches lined with coconut
palms and has been a destination for Aussie surfers for decades.
I had heard there were some caves on the Island and I was
keen to try and find them and go take a look. We met a guy called Mohamed on
the beach who agreed to look after our dinghy while we were away and we asked
him about the caves and that we wanted to get a ride there.
He knew of the caves and took us into town to try and find
some wheels for us. It became obvious that cars were rare and would be
difficult to find a driver, so we then discussed motorbikes. At first it looked
like we were going on the back of two bikes and then some dude gives me his
motorbike key and says to take his and just ask for directions along the way.
What could possibly go wrong?
So off we head, dodging scabby dogs and chickens as we
mingled in with all the other cars, smokey trucks and motorbikes.
The road was quite good as the tarmac had only recently been
laid, but every bridge was out being repaired and we had to take rough detours.
In Australia, we would fix one bridge at a time, but Indonesian style is to fix
them very slowly, all at the same time.
I rode for an hour or so and by now we were very high up
towards the centre of the Island and when we asked for directions they said to
go back to where we came from. The Islanders are very poor and away from town, live mostly in natural thatched huts and for a living they collect palm sap and
boil it to make palm sugar.
We headed back to the coast and pulled up to ask some dude
having a smoke for directions, and he jumped on his motorbike to lead the way.
Ten minutes later we arrive at the cave entrance and there
is a gate locked with a padlock. The dude rides off to get the key and comes
back fifteen minutes later to say the owner is away today, so we can’t go in.
I was pretty upset about that, but that’s the way it goes.
There was a woman not far away boiling up some palm sap to make palm sugar, so
we walked over and struck up a conversation. They were extremely poor, living
in a small thatched house and they made palm sugar to sell for a living.
The husband, who was as skinny as a rake but with a
magnificent physique, climbed up one of his tall palm trees like a monkey and
showed us how he collected the sap. The sap was a clear liquid that reacted
with the air and started bubbling as it fermented. It tasted nice and made a
pleasant drink, but apparently it becomes alcoholic after a while.
We bought two water bottles full of the product just to give
them a couple of dollars, then we headed back into Seba to return the motorbike and
just hang out at the beach for a while.
We laid on bags of fishing nets under a shade frame with a
fisherman and his family and chatted for several hours as we drank coconut
water.
The dude with the motorbike could see I was disappointed
missing out on seeing the caves and he kept making calls until he reached the
dude with the key and suddenly, he says jump on were going. (mind you, it’s
more money for him too)
So, I jump on the back of his bike and we speed off up the
road dodging scabby dogs and chickens as we mingled in with all the other cars,
smokey trucks and motorbikes while he smokes a cigarette and talks on his
mobile phone.
After a brief fuel stop where I paid for him to tip three
coke bottles full of fuel into his fuel tank, then we were off again.
While trying not to think about broken hips and fractured skulls,
I admire the view as we make the same journey, albeit a bit faster this time.
We arrived back at the cave entrance only this time there
were two kids waiting there with a key.
It was a tight squeeze through the entrance and then we
descended into the dark down steep concrete steps. The cave was amazing, it was
very deep and extended for a long way and was full of nice stalactites and
stalagmites still dripping water.
There were large pools of crystal-clear water and I would
have loved to have gone in for a swim as I was drenched in sweat from the high
humidity, but I’m sure this water was used for drinking, so I didn’t.
Past the lowest point with all the water, the cave continued
on and I noticed my rider wasn’t keen to follow me. Gradually the floor turned
black and this section of the cave was full of small bats.
Everywhere in the cave were tree roots, coming down from the
ceiling and snaking around looking for water. Some of the roots were huge like
massive pythons curling around then disappearing through the floor or side of
the cave.
After half an hour or so we turned back and headed for the
entrance. We were all drenched in sweat and exhausted from the high temperature
and high humidity and it was such a relief to reach the surface and the open
atmosphere once again.
I paid the two kids 2000 rupee and we sped off back to Seba.
This time the ride was much cooler with my sweaty shirt, but my head and face
got pretty sun burnt.
Once back at the sun shade, I paid the rider for the second
time and then I rested up in the fishing nets for a bit until all the fishermen
headed out to fish for garfish on the low tide using fine mesh nets.
We walked the kilometre or so along the beach back to the
large jetty where we found our dinghy closer to the water than where we left
it. (thanks Mohamed) Some old dude and a kid came over to help us drag the
dinghy the short distance to the water’s edge and then we headed off back out
to Sirocco.
We were both really tired and it was a bit of an effort to
raise the dinghy and get ready to sail tomorrow. Putu did the washing and after
a shower we had some really fine dining with maggot bags and red wine for
dinner and it wasn’t long before we both crashed out.
Track Sirocco’s
progress
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