Small Boats, Big Generosity

From the moment we arrived in Indonesia, our interactions with people have been overwhelmingly positive. Smiles, waves, curious glances, and a general sense that we are welcome and yet unusual. We are not common objects here. This is especially true of Bob, whose height appears to exist outside the local range of expectations. There have been comments. There has been pointing and furtive glances. We are definitely noticed.

After checking in at Tual, we headed north, hoping to keep our sailing days short and safe.  The plan was island-to-island hops, minimizing overnight passages and maximizing daylight, sanity, and sleep. We did our usual research, cross-checking notes, cruising guides, and the informal but deeply influential “what other cruisers say.”

One nearby island initially looked perfect. Easy distance, straightforward sail. Then we read the reports. Let’s just say the reviews were… energetic. We quietly decided that while we enjoy cultural exchange, we prefer the kind that does not involve uninvited boarding and aggressive fundraising. So we kept looking.

That’s how Gorong Island entered the picture.

It was a little farther than planned, but still manageable. The reviews were good, ironically written by friends of ours on the boat Second Set, which felt reassuring. We didn’t know much about what to expect, but we liked the idea of finding out.

We arrived in the morning and anchored off the village of Dai. We never went ashore, which is why my description of the village will remain deliberately vague. It existed as a shoreline, a collection of buildings, a place where canoes emerged and returned, and a backdrop of daily life we observed from the water, adding the sounds of the Muslim call to prayer several times a day.

Passage to Indonesia — Part 5 Arrival

Leaving Enu, the boat still had issues. 

(Click here if you missed part 4)

Not loud ones, just enough to keep us paying attention. The engine sputtered and cut out shortly after we weighed anchor, a signal that immediately erased any illusion that we were finished troubleshooting. Fortunately, we were still in shallow water. We dropped the anchor, bought ourselves time. We had changed the filters while at anchor, and bled the air, as usual from the fuel lines. Obviously we had not cleared all the air out from both filters. 

Success

Until it happened again.

And again.

Each time, the routine became more practiced: anchor down, engine off, tools out, filters swapped, air bled, hands smelling of diesel. Between attempts, there was patience instead of panic. We had learned that much, at least.

Eventually, the engine settled into a steady rhythm, and this time it stayed there. We were finally on our way.

Passage to Indonesia — Part 4 Enu

Enu wasn’t on the plan.

It wasn’t a waypoint, or a penciled-in stop, or a place we had talked about in our planning. It appeared only after we began looking, not for progress, but for pause.

Passage to Indonesia — Part 3. When the Boat Objects

By the third day of the crossing, our world had contracted, not in distance, we were still covering miles, but in focus. What mattered now was how the boat was moving, how the sea was behaving, and how much attention everything required. Wind and current were no longer aligned, and the motion reflected that disagreement. The bow lifted, hesitated, then dropped, again and again. Not dramatic. Just relentless.

(If you missed part one or two click here.)

A few of the many fishing boats we passed. This time in daylight and they were visible.

Passage to Indonesia — Part 2. The Glow on the Horizon

 If there is one thing that became clear early in this passage, it’s that night changes everything.  (If you missed part 1, click here)

The first evening after leaving Australia gave us our introduction. The western horizon glowed, not like stars or constellations, but like a distant city at sea. A low, steady brightness spread across the darkness, far too expansive to be natural.  Based on the scale of the glow, we assumed it was a Chinese fishing fleet. There were more than fifty boats in that one area alone, with other clusters scattered farther west.

Passage to Indonesia — Part 1 Late Season, Open Water

I began this passage from Australia to Indonesia with more trepidation than usual. That alone should have been a clue.

There were reasons, of course. There always are. We were leaving Australia fully inside cyclone season, which officially runs from November 1 to April 30. By late December, we weren’t at the tail end or even the shoulder, we were squarely in it. Late enough that people paused when we mentioned our plans. Late enough that the weather patterns had shifted from helpful to unfriendly. Winds that had once been behind us were now firmly in our face. Currents, too, would be working against us. On paper, it was not the right time to make this passage.

Australian Wildlife: From Adorable to Mildly Terrifying

One of the great joys of our time in Australia was meeting an entirely new supporting cast of animals. Some were impossibly cute, some were loud and opinionated, and some existed mainly to remind us why Australians read warning signs very carefully. This is a mostly pictorial roundup, with just enough words to prove I was paying attention.

The Cute Stuff (Lulling You Into a False Sense of Security)