Tuesday 6th June – Terempa
Our customs inspection was due this morning, but before we could prepare ourselves for that we were told we would have to move the boat to make room for a ferry to leave the bay. My heart sank at this news, considering all the faffing about it had taken to anchor. It was suggested we could tuck in near an island just outside the main bay but when we motored out there to check the location it proved to be too deep and there was a lot of coral, so back we went to nearer where we’d come from and set the anchor just a little further back from our original spot with not too much bother at all. The customs inspection went well. Two guys came on board, had a cursory look around, asked questions and filled in the answers on their form. They were both fasting for Ramadan but we were quite shocked to learn that they are not even allowed to have water when we offered it to them. This means that even during the hottest parts of the day, while visiting a series of hot, stuffy boats they can’t even sip water – self-denial in the extreme. We had to go back ashore at 2:30 to hand some more paperwork to the customs officers. I was careful to wear trousers this time to avoid causing any more offence. We took a walk on the eastern side of the island, and we attracted more interest in these more rural streets. The children especially, delighted in us and as in Thailand, were keen to try out their English phrases on us.
I took lots of pictures as we went along in attempt to capture life on the parched, dusty streets. The wailing (and that’s not meant to sound derogatory – it’s merely the best way to describe it) was once again an apt audio accompaniment to the environment. Clearly the town and the way of life is different from that in more modern developed cities. It’s hard to find the right words to describe it without sounding condescending. The pictures below show it how it is anyway. What I can say is that without fail, everyone we met was friendly, looked happy and there was an overall air of dignity and politeness in the village that is sadly lacking in some communities in Britain and Europe.
Wednesday 7th June
Yesterday evening we went for dinner with Deb and Bruce at a restaurant called La Luna, which comes recommended by several yachtsmen who have eaten there. I went along armed with some dishes and phrases I’d looked up online in order to avoid any unwelcome fish or meat additions. Deb had also brought along her Indonesian phrase book so I was able to enjoy a local dish called Cap Cay (pronounced Chop Chai, the waiter smilingly corrected me when I asked for it as it’s written) – a tasty dish of stir fried veg and boiled rice. The intriguing-sounding Gado Gado (veg with spicy peanut sauce) was not available and I later found out it’s only served in the mornings. The wailing and chanting and prayer recitals had blasted out full volume all night. I lay awake wondering how many people were in the mosques and whether the loud, angrier-sounding recitals were akin to the fire and brimstone warnings in some Christian sermons. In contrast to that, some of the singing is very mellow and soothing. There was a lot of swell on the water today which always makes me slightly nauseous so I didn’t do much other than read, watch more boats coming in to the anchorage and listen to the various comings and goings of the Sail Malaysia Rally boats on VHF.
Courtesy of Deb and Bruce, we had been invited to a dinner laid on for the Rally participants by the Anambas Tourism Office, so at 5:30 we joined them, along with some of the others at the jetty to wait for the minibus. The venue was at the top of a very steep hill and the sheer drop down on the right hand side of the road seemed perilously close whenever we rounded corners on the twisty road. Representatives were waiting to greet us as soon as we stepped out, scuppering my intention to walk over to take pictures of the view. We were ushered into a cavernous sports and leisure complex, passing some striking-looking ladies dressed in colourful national costume on the way. Reaching the top of a staircase we found ourselves in a hall where tables and chairs had been set out and two women were ladling bright pink liquid into bowls. Just as we were all sitting down the boom that announced the end of the day’s fasting went off and some of the men went downstairs where prayer mats had been laid out for them on the indoor football pitch. The evening would begin, said the beautiful female compere, once the prayers were done. In the meantime we were served a bowl of the pink ‘soup’ with fruit floating in it (like an unset blancmange), a plate of rich stodgy cakes and a cup of sweet jasmine tea. I guess this glut of sugar is welcome for anyone who’s been fasting all day.
Photographers milled around taking pictures of us all as we tucked in, while the ladies in national dress rehearsed their dance performance under the instruction of a choreographer. I admired the compere, who had the difficult job of translating a speech given by the tourism minister into English at suitable intervals. It can’t have been easy doing this while people were still arriving, food was being served and the photographers were snapping away. It felt a little like a corporate business event with an ‘Alice in Wonderland’ theme. The Andaman Tourist Office are keen to promote their islands as a paradisaical holiday destination, so welcoming yachtsmen on sailing rallies is all part of that. Obviously no alcohol was available and I’m sure some of the participants would have welcomed beer but when you don’t expect it, it’s not a big issue. After the speech, the girls performed their dance and another dignitary spoke about the plans for developing the area and if anyone had any tips and suggestions they would be very welcome. The Sail Malaysia Rally has been taking place for a few years, so the next speech was from a captain who had taken part and praised the organisers, the tourism authorities and so on and so on. He was presented with a bag of gifts afterwards, which I coveted as it contained some guide books and maps. I needn’t have felt disappointed though. We were all given one and I was delighted to discover the bag also contained a piece of traditional batik cloth and a handmade souvenir (a wooden spinning top).
Dinner was announced shortly after this. It was a hot buffet, consisting of chicken, fish and rice. I’d expected that, but the starter was watermelon, jackfruit and mango so I made do with that as an accompaniment to my rice.
While everyone was tucking in the girls performed another traditional dance and a singer/pianist sang some love and power ballads consisting variously of contemporary songs, songs from Disney movies, or 80s classics. Next it was time for a ‘turn’- in the form of karaoke or personal party pieces – from some of the participants. I thought they were very brave to go up without the help of an alcoholic tot or two. Looking around me I could tell some people were getting restless but there was more to come before we could politely take our leave. Another present-giving ceremony was in operation. This bag contained a sailing cap, a T-shirt and a drybag all bearing the ‘Wonderful Indonesia’ logo, and we all got one. A thoughtful and generous gesture and I was really touched by it (especially as we’re not part of the Rally). It had been a good evening and great to chat with other crew members and captains, some of whom we’d met before on our travels. Back on the boat I wasted no time in checking out the guide books. They are both useful and entertaining, in that they have great photos but the translation looks as though it’s been done through a copy and paste procedure straight from Google translate. Nevertheless, I was impressed with the effort they had gone to and grateful for making us so welcome.
Thursday 8th June – To Pidi Island (with coral grief)
The internet in Terempa is much more reliable early in the morning so we’ve been getting up early to make the most of it. Some of the boats on the rally began to leave and we would be joining them on their next stop for an evening barbecue at Pidi. First, we went ashore for a few provisions and another bit of officialdom. A young lad took our tender for us when we arrived and he also took our rubbish from us to take to the bins. Paul gave him a tip but I think he was more interested in interacting with us than the money so we chatted with him as best we could given the language barrier. Our first stop was the quarantine office which never seems to be manned, but this was our third try and we wanted to get our clearance. Knocks and repeated ‘hellos’ produced no one and the empty desk looked as if someone had stepped away from it in 1946 and never returned. A nearby military officer noticed us leaving so Paul went up to him and explained what we wanted. The guy nodded and marched into the room and down a corridor where we heard his raised voice say something before he returned and signalled for us to wait before leaving with a smile. A bleary-eyed guy emerged from the corridor gruffly asked us a few questions and produced a form to record the answers on. It was all done very quickly. He dismissed us with our clearance form and presumably went back to bed.
It was searingly, almost unbearably hot as we shopped. With no ‘all under one roof’ supermarkets around it’s a bit like going back to the old days of grocery shopping when produce was sold separately in butchers and bakers and grocers. We decided against the bread from the bakery however because the last sugary loaf we’d bought had contained added protein in the form of weevils. Armed with drinks and lots of fruit and vegetables we walked back to the dinghy where the same young lad was on hand to help us load it.
More boats had left by the time we got back and we weighed anchor at 1 o’clock to follow them. The route took in a notorious coral reef in shallow water but we would be following the waypoints of a previous captain, which is what SV Matilda had done and Deb had emailed Paul to say it was a doddle. As we approached the reef I wanted to double check the method of how to spot any hazardously close or shallow coral spots. Unfortunately we had a different perception of the exact meaning of ‘keeping the sun behind you’ and it turned into such a debate that it made us lose focus of the coral itself. Paul was horrified to look up and see we were almost upon it and guys on a passing fishing boat were warning us with gestures of alarm. We soon got back on course but the guys on the boat very kindly led us through the whole channel. Paul had no luck catching a fish again but there’s always a good reason for this 😉 . Drama over, I could concentrate on the lovely scenes before us as we got nearer to Pidi. Deb had been spot on with her description of it as gorgeous. We joined the other yachts at anchor in the bay at 4 o’clock.
The barbecue was at 6 o’clock just across from our anchorage and we were greeted at the jetty by one of the team. It was a lovely location: the jetty was lit up and a long table was laid on the platform at the end of it. Cool boxes held beer and soft drinks which we could help ourselves to and pay for later, and the food was being kept hot in the kitchen area. I hadn’t expected to have any food because it was advertised as a fish and chicken barbecue but Paul, having spotted some veggie accompaniments with the rice, paid for me to eat too. He tucked in to copious amounts of the chicken and fish (which was served having already been barbecued) to make the most of the rare treat of freshly-cooked meat. There were about twenty of us altogether, some of whom we’d met at the dinner. It was a nice evening in a glorious setting with good company. Couldn’t ask for more than that really.
Kathy