Well, I managed to get hold of Hesta in Bali today and he seemed very helpful and confident that he could locate our hard to get V-belt. In the meantime, Agok the diesel mechanic showed up with two new raw water pump belts that he managed to get from another yacht he had been working on. What a top bloke, I take it all back champ, you’re a fabulous diesel mechanic and a bloody good bloke.
Agok came out and while he fitted one of the raw water pump v-belts, I fitted the other. As I was loosening one of the two studs holding on the water pump, one of them decided to commit suicide and simply broke off and fell into the bilge. Oh shit, I hope this one stud will be strong enough to hold the water pump tight all the way to Darwin?
 |
| Make sure that you follow the leading light in & out of the marina |
I asked Agok if he would be able to weld a new one back on and he said he cannot and wanted to go back in as his new assistant was sea sick and about to throw up. So that was the end of that.
At least I now had two working engines, but I wasn’t confident to head off without a handful of spare belts as we had well over a thousand nautical miles ahead of us through some very remote regions if Indonesia to get back to Darwin.
I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning and doing a few small boat jobs and just for something different, we had been told there were some nice restaurants on the beach at a place called Tandjung just a short walking distance up the road.
We set off just before dark, walking the dark streets of Tandjung, getting blasted by Muslim chanting blaring from all the loud speakers beaming from the many mosques in the area. Eventually we managed to locate all the small restaurants on the beach.
Most of them were packed full of young Muslims sitting there patiently stairing at their food going cold. It was Ramadan and no one was allowed to eat until the sun goes down. (including us) Not wanting to interfere with their Ramadan meal, we walked past everyone and picked up a bean bag at the far end empty restaurant and ordered a meal. It was extremely hot and humid and I was sweating from the long walk.
The meal was OK, but the price was even better. We decided it would be shorter (and safer) to walk back along the beach. All was going well until we came to a small fast flowing river. It was shallow and looked clear and safe, but half way across we realized it was a river of piss, so once across it was a mad dash down to the ocean to wash off.
After this, the walk was pretty uneventful until we got back
to the marina and there was a mad rabies dog fight on the rickety old jetty
where our dinghy was tied up.
We managed to sneak past the dogs without getting bitten and
head off into the dark to hopefully find Sirocco.
No comments:
Post a Comment