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.
