Category: Uncategorized

Sunday April 1st

As planned, we were away by 6am just as the sun rose over the hills, for the long trip to Puerto Galera. Paul warned me that anchoring might prove tricky there. An Easter regatta was taking place in the area, so all the mooring buoys would be taken up by participants. Furthermore it could be crowded in the anchorage area, which might have coral on the sea bed (neither of which possibilities filled me with joy). No chocolate eggs for us that Easter Day; in fact there was nothing to indicate that it was Easter at all apart from notes on the calendar. Our Easter Sunday was spent mostly at sea; a sea with increasingly high waves that created a bucking and rolling motion and was very generous with its spray! Paul got the Iridium phone working to enable us to send and receive messages and calls during our Pacific voyage later this year, while I stayed below reading, writing and typing. We didn’t have a guide book for the Philippines, but an internet search informed me that Puerto Galera means ‘the port of Galleons’ in Spanish, dating from the Spanish settlement during the 16th century, and the town proudly boasts an entry in the ‘Club of the Most Beautiful Bays of the World’. It also has a lively nightlife and is a popular resort for divers and snorkelers. One of the more interesting facts that caught my eye is that remote parts of its mountainsides are home to indigenous tribes which have virtually no contact with the outside world.

Anchoring proved to be thankfully easy when we arrived. On our second attempt we were secure in 13 metres of water in a coral-free spot with no other boats around, in the lee of abundant forested hills dotted with  holiday dwellings. I was fascinated to see a small low-flying aircraft coming in to land over the water at the nearby airport just after we’d anchored. We watched it land and take off several times during our time there.

Keen to see the yacht club we had heard about from other yacht owners before it got too dark, we lowered the dinghy to go ashore. It was quite some distance away and the water was murky so we didn’t see the rocks near the surface as we neared the jetty where other dinghies were tied up. Our dinghy bounced on them with a harsh grinding noise, forcing us to switch to rowing pretty smartish. This was all witnessed by a small group of resort staff waiting in one of the shuttle boats who must have foreseen the end result of the route we were taking. They helpfully directed us away from the rocks, pointed out the correct way to go for the return journey, took our tender and directed us to the yacht club on the hill. On the steps leading up to it, we met a group of rather inebriated yachties from the regatta, one of whom informed us that they were on their way to The Rock and Roll Bar on the other side of the shore. ‘See you there’, he grinned as if it was the accepted thing to do after visiting the yacht club. The club had everything we wanted – drinks, wifi, a book swap facility and local information from the helpful staff.

By the time we came to cross the channel to Puerto Galera’s shore it was dark and we were careful to follow the correct route to avoid the rocks (it was clearly marked by coloured wooden poles as it turned out). The Rock and Roll Bar was easy to spot from its prominent position opposite the dinghy park along with the hubbub of noise emanating from it. The regatta guys were too busy discussing the day’s successes and enjoying more refreshments to notice us strolling past. It was too dark to see the town properly but the narrow, lively main street looked intriguing, and was different again from any other place we’d visited. We ate in an Italian restaurant of all places. Sitting at a table in the busy street, we ate pizza and pasta and I had a huge glass of red wine while watching the shopkeepers clean and close up their stores, and the antics of kids and dogs playing in the street. There was certainly no shortage of things to look at.  Returning to the dinghy, we discovered that our earlier encounter with rocks must have caused the pin to split in the propeller again so it was a long tiring row back to the boat for Paul, but great exercise  😉

Easter Monday

Our excursion to Batangus to check in, began at 10am on a beautiful sunny morning – and at 25 degrees, notably cooler than those we’d become used to in Malaysia. We parked the dinghy near the ferry terminal ready to board the 10 45 ferry. We had 30 minutes to wait, along with several other people who like us, had been guided to the ticket kiosk by a staff member from the ‘Father and Son’ line to catch the first ferry due. It was a great place to sit and people-watch. I am becoming more enamoured with the Philippines the more I see of it. There is a ‘no nonsense’ but friendly attitude inherent in the people generally that makes it pleasant to interact with them even with a language barrier; I think it has a lot to do with facial expressions.

The ferry arrived 20 minutes late and boarding was more of a chaotic free for all compared to the orderly process we comply with for health and safety regulations in the UK. We were amused to see a couple of staff members with ‘elderly assistance’ on their tee shirts. In order to get further along the boat you had to clamber over waist high, plastic partitions so anyone infirm would struggle for sure. Once we were all seated and underway, vendors selling little packets of salted peanuts and bottles of water picked their way through the passengers and we bought some nuts to share on the way. The seats weren’t uncomfortable exactly but were hard and there was considerable engine vibration that sent some people to sleep. Staff moved along the windows securing waterproof screens to protect us from the spray as the boat gathered speed and for the next hour or so most of us settled down to staring at our personal screens, as passengers on public transport are wont to these days.  At around 12 30 the engine slowed and people began gathering their belongings ready to disembark.

More food and drink vendors, along with taxi drivers and trikes were clamouring for custom once we were on shore. We could see the customs building across the way from us but we had to keep to a designated, coloured pedestrian walkway to get to it. Inside the air-conditioned building we were informed by a genial guy that officers were all currently occupied inspecting vessels but we were welcome to wait until one of them returned. This we were happy to do, as a welcome respite from the heat. It wasn’t long before an officer appeared and invited us over to his desk. Apart from the fact that we discovered we’d have to return there to check out, all went smoothly with paper and forms being passed back and forth, studied, copied and stamped in the way we’ve become used to. Immigration was next and it was some distance away. We were told that taxis or trikes could be hired just outside the building to take us there. Bearing in mind we’d been inundated with offers when we got off the ferry, not a single one of either was around outside the building, despite a nearby security guard assuring us that one would ‘be along soon’. After 20 minutes in the heat, I was thirsty and becoming impatient so we walked back to the port area and hailed a trike there. There followed a heart-in-the-mouth fast ride along a busy, bumpy main road where cars and lorries whizzed past alarmingly close to us, but the driver was unfazed and soon we drew up outside a small building where a limping dog was scavenging in some rubbish and a boy of about ten approached us with his hand out for money. The driver said he’d wait for us and after another quick and trouble-free process, we were on our way to a supermarket recommended by the lady who had dealt with us in immigration.

What we’d seen of Batangus hadn’t inspired us to linger and explore it further. Puerto Galera had much more to offer, so another trike was hailed for a ride back to the ferry terminal. A chaotic series of events to obtain tickets ensued when we got there. Keen to get the 3 30 ferry, Paul asked a man where the ticket office was. He immediately (and kindly) took Paul under his wing and proceeded to lead him at quite a pace, through the throngs of people, along pavements and around corners while explaining what he needed to ask for. I struggled to keep up and keep them in sight. To be fair, I think he thought Paul was on his own, but with his help we made the ferry on time instead of having to wait another hour. Fewer people were on board this time and with a different company on a faster boat, the journey was shorter. It was low tide when we reached the dinghy, which was well and truly beached on the mud. With the help of a French guy, who happened to be tying up his dinghy, Paul managed to get it back in the water, watched by a little girl who looked a bit doubtful about the success of the mission (see pic below)

We moved to a new location the following day as the regatta had ended. It was much closer to the shore and meant we could take advantage of the free service boat provided by the yacht club. It wasn’t easy grabbing the mooring buoy, which had no rope on the top of it to catch with the boat hook. The force of holding it almost pulled me over the rail and it took both of us to hold on to it while Paul threaded the line through the metal hoop. Our first task after taking advantage of the handy shuttle service, was to find a laundry. Quite a heavy load had built up over the weeks so I was amazed to be told that our huge service wash would cost less than £2.

While ambling around the town for a proper look at it in daylight I spotted roosters in cages, with signs attached advertising them as good fighters, or with details of the next fight that would take place. Cock fighting is a popular sport here, not one that we were keen to see, obviously. I also noticed several stray dogs with ‘street’ wounds such as torn ears and patchy coats and the females looked like they had had litter after litter of pups. When you come across clearly unneutered animals it makes you realise what a rare sight they are on the streets at home. Before returning to the boat we walked down to the beach where it was quieter so that I could make a phone call. A couple of boys nearby were having great fun using stones and empty bottles playing at being barmen and were thrilled when Paul took their picture.

Paul made an early morning ferry journey back to Batangus to check us out on April 4th. I was glad I wasn’t needed, having plenty to catch up on on board. He returned at 1 30 with a tale of the usual confusion he’d encountered involving authority and hierarchy issues. Apparently, when he presented himself at the place we’d checked in at, he was told that to check out he’d have to go to the customs guy downstairs. Once there, the officer was outraged that the other people had checked us in in the first place because only he had the authority to do that, and if he had, then he would have checked us out at the same time and we wouldn’t have had to come back. It seems they may need to communicate with each other about consistency in their procedures 😉

We had laundry to collect so called the service boat for a pick up (could easily get used to that handy service). On shore, we returned to the fresh market we’d walked around the day before and bought some of the gorgeous mangoes we’ve taken a fancy to here. The town was very busy and noisy with the roar and thrum of various motor engines. I’m getting used to the nifty trikes now, though which are so much cheaper and more available than taxis.

Our third call to the service boat took us to the yacht club later that evening. Wednesdays are curry night there and judging by the amount of people, it’s very popular. It was all laid out in self-serve heated containers at the end of the bar and after paying, you simply helped yourself from a choice of seafood, beef or vegetable curry, plain rice, papadums with all the traditional Indian accompaniments. Both of us went back for seconds, it was so tasty. We were joined at our table by two elderly Swedish sailors and their young Filipino companions. They gave us useful advice regarding our imminent trip to Subic Bay, and were entertaining dinner companions, both having plenty to relate from their sailing experiences. Time to move on in the morning, although we agreed it would have been lovely to see and explore more of Puerto Galera. The images below show only part of its charm.

Kathy

 

Sunday 5th May 6:00 AM

Up early for a 7am departure. It’s Sunday, very quiet and very calm. The skies are clear and we have no trouble springing out of our tight mooring between two big motor boats, all alongside on one long pontoon. We motor out to sea and once we have cleared all the fishing marks/nets, I get the mainsail up, with one reef, as I’m expecting the weather to get quite windy later, and both headsails. We spotted this Hydrofoil ferry shoot past,they go so fast and make no wake, but leave a foaming thin spread of white water behind them, like contrails.

The wind is on the beam and building and soon we are doing a fast 7-8 knots, on calm seas with a sunny sky, what could possibly go wrong. Well more of the same, the wind built and built, the sea soon followed with big waves and then it started to rain. Later we would add fog to the mix.

We were on our way to the entrance to the inland sea, this enclosed mass of water is similar to the Med in that it has narrow connections to the outside ocean, three in fact and although much better connected than the Med, with its single opening between Spain and Morocco, it still has a large mass of water to move in and out on each tide. Consequently the currents that race through the entrance can be quite fast. I wasn’t aware of this when I chose the narrowest entrance to the inland sea, and having arrived in Fukuoka, the nearest main open port to the entrance, I did some research and realised that we couldn’t go fast enough to cope with the worst of the current and would have to time our passage to be just after slack water, when there was little current, and race through with the increasing current. The strait we were passing through is called the Kanman Strait, and is about a mile wide and does a big u turn, it has a big city on each side and is almost as busy as Singapore for commercial shipping. I checked on a web site provided by the authorities here and found that 8am would be our best bet for a passage through, that meant arriving the night before and waiting at anchor.

Our passage there was getting rougher and rougher, and with the wind often hitting 28knots, I now had a double reef in the main, and just the staysail up, and we were still flying along and heeling a lot. I decided to get as close to the shore as possible, the wind was blowing offshore and was a little weaker near the shore, also the sea was a lot flatter there. However there were shallows, rocks, and a lot of concrete constructions to navigate around.  The area was becoming more and more industrialised, and looked like a giant version of Ellesmere port/Stanlow oil refinery where I come from. The air was full of sulphurous smoke from the power station on the shore front. I sailed between wind turbines, and while trying to understand what this huge pylon was that I was sailing towards, about 0.2 nm from shoreI noticed the chart had printed on it OVERHEAD POWER CABLES, crikey I thought, we’re about to be frizzled, or at best, get the electric toaster working for free. The thing was the pylon didn’t seem to have any wires on it, just a mass of aerials, and looking closer to the shore I could see the aforesaid cables going out to some big round structure off to starboard. so false alarm.

It was quite an exhilarating ride, and when we entered the Kanmon Strait at the western end, the sea was quite rough, we turned immediately to starboard into a river / tributary of the strait, which was seriously industrialised, and headed along to a spot I had marked to anchor and wait until the next morning. It seemed too rough there to stay, the wind was making the sea quite choppy, but I noticed a coastal cargo ship and a tug attached to a barge both at anchor where I had my waypoint. I went beyond them, turned into the wind, slowed the boat and decided it wasn’t that rough at all, we sleep through much worse on night watches, and the forecast was for an improvement anyway, so down went the hook in 10 metres of water. Kathy came to help with the anchoring, she couldn’t believe me that I was going to anchor in such a rough sea, but once the anchor was set, and we went below, shut the hatches and removed our soaking wet-weather gear, everything was just fine. We both slept very well, the new duvet we bought in Fukuoka, along with the three blankets works well, how very different from just a month ago.

I was up early, around 6AM and checking on the VHF to see if the harbour master (Kanmon Martis) was issuing any warnings about the strait, looking outside, it was a lot calmer, but I couldn’t see much due to the dense fog. I expected the strait to be closed, but looking on the AIS I could see a stack of ships passing into and out of this end of the channel. By 7AM the fog had cleared and I could see the giant video display a mile away showing the current in the channel, it was flashing 3, then E, then Up arrow, meaning three knots eastward and increasing. I had worked out slack tide to be at about 8AM and 3 knots to be at 9AM, so I was out by an hour or more. I quickly explained to Kathy we had to get a move on. The previous evening I had heard Kanmon Martis announce at full flood that the tide was now running at 10 knots and ships that could not make 14 knots must not enter the strait! Up came the anchor and off we went, we hugged the outside of the marked channel, I hand steered while Kathy spent most of the time at the chart table shouting out AIS Collision warnings to me, several of the ships in the strait we’re entering or leaving the many docks and channels along the passage and we would need to avoid them if they crossed our path. I was very pleased to make it to the bridge, the most dangerous part, in just under an hour, and with 3 knots pushing us along, we shot through, then 15 minutes later we were in the inland sea proper. A place I had wanted to see for many years. Unfortunately during our passage along the strait, the fog and rain returned, this is normal in Japan at this time of year, and so I wasn’t seeing much at all, Kathy maintained AIS watch, and I looked out for small boats from the helm. What disappointed me was the huge amount of fishing buoys/flags we encountered, I presume they have nets strung between them. They are everywhere, and although they don’t present much of a problem to us, due to the underwater shape of our hull with an enclosed propeller, it’s still a fear we might snag one, or have to deal with a fisherman who insists we go around them.  Our charts show lots of Fish Havens, which back home usually is a place where fishing is strictly banned, I presume to allow stocks to recover. Here it seems to be a place where you can fish and string out loads of nets. Interestingly our charts also shows Fish Heavens

I wondered if this was heaven for fish, but Kathy pointed out that with the amount of nets in the ‘heaven’ that it’s more likely where they start their journey to heaven!

From the exit of the Kanman straight we headed over to Nakatsu Harbour, about 2 hours away, arriving early afternoon, sadly I  had forgotten that wasn’t our destination. I had worked out a much better place to stop the previous night, but forgot all about it in the morning. Nakatsu has a small ‘sea station’ which is meant to be a yacht friendly small marina, often just a pontoon and maybe a water supply, but nicer to yachts than a harbour wall. Unfortunately we didn’t have any co-ordinates for it, just a fax number. We headed for the harbour in town, but realised it was way to shallow to enter, so we backed off and headed to a harbour that was shown as being under construction in the chart, several years ago. This was a big industrial harbour, and when we entered it, kathy spotted some yachts at the end, we motored along to them, but they were moored med style to concrete walls, no pontoons. then we saw a pontoon, full of commercial boats, so we turned round, found a quiet spot in the corner of the harbour, behind a breakwater and dropped the hook. very calm and peaceful.

Tomorrow is Tuesday, at least at the time of writing, when we next get internet is another matter altogether, and we have just two more day sails then we will arrive at Yugi Shima, the start port for the rally, we then have two weeks of laid back sailing, and social events, I expect we may have to drink some tea, and I’m not so sure about the naked bathing bit! Then we will start to prepare in earnest for the pacific crossing. I have been reading up on that, and my initial plan to travel 700 odd miles further north may be flawed and that we can leave from Osaka or Yokahoma and get more favourable winds, which also gives us a few weeks extra to relax and prepare the boat and ourselves.

 

Thursday 10th May Update
We have now arrived at Yugi port on the Island of Yugi-shima, the rally organiser was here to take our lines in a lovely quiet and pretty town. We are on a pontoon with water and electricity, unfortunately its 110v USA style, so not a lot of use to me. The journey here was fairly uneventful, except for one strait we had to pass through, underneath a huge bridge, I planned to sneak through the bridge using a route that was quite direct, unfortunately we had a tanker bearing down on us that thwarted that plan, then I had to port controller telling me off on the radio, first for not contacting him, then for not knowing the prescribed route, and finally for not being able to make 4 knots over ground, despite doing 8 knots over water. There was quite a strong current flowing. We have sailed for most of the passages in Japan, but for the last two days it has mostly been under engine, but at least that goes hand in hand with calm clear weather.

 

I have put some charts below showing our cruising area

 

Lots of ships pass through the inland sea, we had constant warnings on the AIS telling us of possible collision risks, where the CPA (Closet point of approach) was less than 0.1 NM

Paul Collister

 

It was going to be somewhat of a race to get through the Philippines, and then journey on to Japan in time make the 11th May start of the Setouchi Rally. At one point, Paul was considering cancelling our places on it and cutting our losses. I did feel for him because along with route planning, he had to take typhoons, wind direction and sea states into consideration as he mulled over the options, as well as to decide on back up plans. His illness in KK had seriously disrupted the schedule. Pushing those thoughts to one side for the time being however, we weighed anchor just after 9am on March 26th and left Ulugan Bay for El Nido, a journey which included an overnight stop at the delightfully named Jib Boom Bay on the way. We arrived there at lunchtime, having made better speed than we had anticipated and anchored in 9 metres of water. The pictures show what a peaceful spot it is.

I was so taken by its beauty in fact that later, when we took the dinghy ashore, I was too busy gazing at the beach, trying to determine whether I was looking at a house or a shed, I didn’t pay attention to watching the depth and checking for coral on the sea bed. An awful grinding noise as we drew close to the beach soon reminded me. The propeller had hit a rock causing its pin to split. I wasn’t sure how serious that was but felt terribly guilty, and relieved when Paul managed to fix it. This lovely, remote picture postcard location, we soon discovered, was home to a family who had set up home on the beach. Three people had watched us arrive and they looked with interest as we dragged the dinghy up the sand to secure it. A young couple were sitting outside a small dwelling made of bamboo. The woman was cradling a tiny baby, and an older woman, presumably a grandmother of the baby, stood just behind her – all of them smiled as we walked nearer to them. Three barking dogs, who looked a bit too keen to investigate us, backed off at a command from the man. Thinking of the many ‘No Trespassing’ signs we’d seen, Paul asked them if it was ok to walk along the beach. The man nodded and despite the language barrier, a conversation of sorts took place about where we were from and where we were going. We learned that they did indeed live on the island. The man was a fisherman and looked pleased when we indicated how beautiful their home was. He was amused when Paul told of his own efforts to catch fish. I couldn’t help wondering how they all fitted in such a tiny house which afforded little protection from the elements – or privacy for that matter. On the way back as we passed the bamboo house, I spotted a much bigger, sturdier structure set behind some trees, complete with a satellite dish! Not so primitive after all then. I didn’t take my phone with me unfortunately so the only picture I have of the beach is the one below, taken from the anchorage.

We would probably have stayed another night if we hadn’t been in such a hurry to get further north. An early start was necessary for the long leg to El Nido so at 6am on a stunningly gorgeous morning with the sun glowing behind a mountain before it revealed itself in all its glory, we motored off on a flat calm sea.

Paul was busy working below on the water maker later that morning while I kept watch in the cockpit. A fishing boat I’d been keeping an eye on suddenly drew alarmingly close and I could see the three men on board gesticulating wildly and – to my mind – angrily. Their fishing net marker buoy ahead was clearly visible but it was still some distance off. Paul came up and said they were warning us to keep our distance. Their gestures (one of which looked decidedly rude to me) seemed to be directing us where to go so we duly followed. One of them held up a fishing net and shook it in our direction in case we hadn’t got the message. I was feeling a bit indignant at their presumption that we wouldn’t have been cautious around the net without their intervention and had to resist the temptation to ‘gesticulate’ in return, especially when Paul said we were never any threat to their net anyway. The detour took about thirty minutes but they seemed satisfied once we had passed their final buoy. We parted with waves and smiles (at least I think they were waving ;)).

We arrived at Corong Corong around 5 30 and instead of being the only boat in the bay we joined several others. Paul was pleased to spot a boat he knew, belonging to Phil and Eva, a couple he had befriended in Malaysia while I was away in February. We motored around a bit before choosing a spot. Corong Corong is a noisy, busy resort with lots of activity taking place. There were scuba diving boats, fishing boats and jet skis among the yachts and catamarans at anchor as well as kayaks and snorkellers all around us. On the beach, a quiz got underway early in the evening. We joined in for a while as we could hear the questions clearly. The enthusiastic DJ and booming music that followed almost tempted us to go over and join in the dancing, too but we fell asleep instead unfortunately 😉

On the way to check out the town late the next morning, we stopped at Phil and Eva’s boat to see if they knew where we could buy fuel and to get any handy info on the place. They told us the best place to park the dinghy, the short cut from the beach to the town, and recommended places to eat. There didn’t seem to be any shortage of bars and cafes on the beach itself, and there’s no shortage of alcohol here. The heat from the sun in a cloudless sky beat down relentlessly as we made our way along the narrow lane leading upwards from the beach. It took us straight onto a noisy, dusty and chaotic town road.

There were no pavements, and the dust was increased by the amount of building taking place along the roadsides. From what I could tell, more cafes, hostels and two-storey hotels were being constructed. Without the breeze from the sea it felt hotter than ever and we had opted to go on foot to El Nido, only a 20 minute walk but felt much longer in temperatures of over 30 degrees. The traffic consisted mainly of trikes but a fair few lorries and cars contributed to the noise and the stifling atmosphere. Despite all this, the environs were a feast for the eyes. An assortment of quaint houses and shops lined the road, along with souvenir shacks, food stalls and outdoor markets. Life is lived largely outside in this climate so a gathering of children, dogs and chickens among lines of colourful clothes hanging from string attached to porches indicated living quarters.

The ‘back yards’ of both homes and businesses inclined steeply down towards the beach and had been used variously for growing crops, animal pasture and pens, storage sheds, or levelled for construction to expand existing premises. The area is popular with backpackers. We passed several westerners and noticed signs advertising burgers, pizza and beer, which can be enjoyed while watching live sporting events in some of the bars.

The first place we headed for on reaching El Nido was a beach café for a much needed drink and sit down. After that, we had a short amble around to find a bakery and an ATM before hailing a trike to take us back to the village. Interestingly, the trike drivers, when asked how much the journey will cost, always ask you how much you think you should pay. Paul made a ‘no idea’ gesture the first time this happened and the driver shrugged in return, until Paul made an offer, the driver upped it a bit and we got the hang of the system. Some pics taken at El Nido below

The next day (Thursday March 29th) was a bit of a rest day before resuming our journey to Puerto Galera which would be a two or three day passage. Paul went for a snorkel to look at the underwater life near a little beach opposite our anchorage and late in the afternoon we went out to find Corong Corong’s public market. It was a typical outdoor Asian one with buckets of dried fish, and a separate wet area for the pungent fresh fish and meat (and associated flies). The fruit and veg stalls dominated, however, and were as attractive and colourful as ever. We bought potatoes, pineapple, tomatoes, onions, cucumber, peppers and apples, all from different stalls because the sellers are great to interact with and it would be a shame to limit yourself to just one. At other stalls we bought some ‘genuine’ Rayban reading glasses and some organic insect repellent. With everything so cheap, it would have been easy to give in to a spending spree judging by all the designer bags and perfumes on display 😉 Anyway, the insect repellent would be of much more value to us if it prevented any more of the itchy bites we’d been suffering from.

We had dinner in a restaurant close to the beach. It looked as if it might be expensive because it is part of a leisure resort and appeared plush. However, there was a reggae band playing, the menu looked good (and wasn’t too pricey after all) so we had good food, drinks and entertainment all for just over a tenner.

On Good Friday morning, when everyone back home would be tucking into hot cross buns, we weighed anchor and negotiated a tricky gap between two headlands to save going around the whole island. It was bit of an anxious time in case there were shallows and coral but it turned out fine and saved us a bit of time. The Filipino navy called us on VHF just as we had got all the sails out; they just wanted to know our last and next port of call. The sails stayed up all afternoon and we hurtled along at 6-7 knots for most of the day with no engine. After a dinner of pasta and pesto in the cockpit, I took the 8 until midnight watch under the comforting glow of an almost full moon. There was a bit of a tense time when I had to keep my wits about me among a host of fishing vessels. We were surrounded by them and your sense of perspective gets distorted by staring at so many bright and luminous lights. I thought I’d tweaked the course sufficiently but grew so alarmed by the proximity of two very brightly lit squid boats that I called for Paul to come up. I was worried about nets getting caught in the propeller, not to mention incurring the wrath of the fishermen – although it would have been too late by then anyway. Paul tactfully said he wouldn’t have got quite as close as that (I think he said we could have shaken the Captain’s hand across the decks) but thankfully all was fine.

We spent the last day of March at sea. For a while I actually believed we were heading for a place called ‘Dead Man’s Bay’. It wasn’t until Paul later referred to it as ‘Decapitation Bay’ that I realised he was jesting! A new course had been set so that we could have a night at anchor and Paul told me that there had been pirate incidents in the vicinity, but they happened such a long time ago there was nothing to worry about (!). By late morning we were tacking to reach the anchorage on a sea heavy with a swell that rocked us gently from side to side. This motion is easier to move around in than bucking up and down and is less likely to cause sea-sickness (for me anyway). By now, we had advanced north of Palawan, close to the island of Mindoro in the South China Sea. At 1 30 we were in a bay looking for a spot to set the anchor but there was a lot of rock on the sea bed so our first attempt failed. We moved further along and set in 13 metres among several fishing boats. One of them came up to have a look at us and the family on board waved and smiled. Hopefully they are pleased to see yachts visiting the area after pirate activity put many off going near the Philippines.

It was nice to have a break from the watches, but the tiredness that builds up from the alternate four hours on four hours off regime soon caught up with us. Both of us crashed out on the cabin bunks and were in a deep sleep by 9 30. The Spanish-sounding name of Puerto Galera would be our next port of call as the race to get to Japan in time for the Setouchi Rally begins in earnest.

It’s been a while since my last blog, mostly because we have been racing through the islands trying to get to the start of the rally on time. Normally I don’t like rushing, and taking on bad weather because of a deadline is something you shouldnt really do on a boat. However, our 2 week rally was meant to be the exploring bit of our visit here, so I don’t mind the rush, also I’m very much testing the boat before our pacific crossing. If the mast breaks, or the rudder falls off, we have a god chance of being rescued and getting to a port safely, not so in the North pacific, where rescue options are quite limited, out of range from helicopters, you have to rely on a satellite picking up your distress call and a merchant ship in the area diverting to help you. Usually you have to scuttle your boat when your saviour arrives. So I’m happy to push the boat and ourselves on this trip. We will have a few weeks before we depart for the USA to rest and make any lasting alterations we need. So far I have managed to check quite a lot of systems out in real conditions, we have had some very rough weather over the last few weeks.

Before we left Ishigaki we had a bike ride along the coast, It’s very pretty, and also very shallow with reefs extending tens of miles offshore.

I managed to get the boat status changed with customs, from a ‘special’ ship to a ‘coastal’ ship. This means that for the duration of our stay customs don’t give a hoot what we do or where we go. They wouldn’t give me this status because as a special ship, I had to give them my plan for our route, and that included a port that we hadn’t yet received permission to visit. When I wanted to leave they wouldn’t let me because this port on our route hadn’t been cleared. It was quite farcical, as I resolved it by saying I was going to one port, approved, then leaving Japan. they kept asking me if that was true, and I kept saying yes, so they changed my status to coastal ship, I said I might change my mind now and not go to that port and might go elsewhere, they just looked at me and said, we don’t care what you do, you are a coastal ship now. Since then they have ignored me at each port, despite the marina manager or harbour master calling them. Also the coastguard don’t seem interested. It’s gone from the most bureaucratic system ever to the most lax ever!

Kathy will give details of the passages better than me, they all seem to blur into one big battle with the wind. We had some sunny days, but mostly wet and cold. What we did have was wind, and plenty of it, and with the wind we usually got big waves, up to 3 metres often. At one point it was very bad, but everything worked, and we sailed most of the time, hardly using the engine once we left port.

Our first stop after Ishigaki was Yonabaru / Naha on the island of Okinawa, we arrived into a newly built marina on the east coast, lovely people and the manager came out to greet us, for the first time in months we had running water and electricity. Although we hardly need it these days with the solar panels and the watermaker, it was good to go crazy with the shower and leave it running hot water for minutes on end!

Japan has a lot of these guys protecting everything, I think they are called Shiso.

Yonabaru doesnt have a lot to offer, but a few miles over on the west of the island is the big city of Naha, we went looking for a bus to visit and see the castle and markets, I asked a man walking down the main street if he new where the bus stop was, and he insisted that he give us a lift in his car, he took us right to the castle which was really kind of him.

The castle is well old, 15th C I think,

This is a mockup of the layout.

Some nice architecture, disguising the fact that most buildings here on the islands are made of chunky concrete, and tend to be very boxy, designed for earthquakes and tsunamis

The market (above) was great, but everything in Japan is quite pricey, at least compared to what we have been used to, in actual fact it’s not that different to the UK.  Below you can see they have some unusual offerings.

Crime is very low here, people rarely lock up there bicycles, and like below, these cylinders were left on the dock where anyone could nick them, they were there for all our time in town.

From Okinawa we headed up to Miyanoura, a nice port on the island of Yaku-shima, This is a gorgeous island full of wonderful mountains, forests, hot springs, wildlife etc etc. We were running a day late because the previous marina here couldn’t accept us when we planned, due to being closed on Tuesdays! When we arrived we tied up to the only wall we could find, but it was very rough and high, and had a lip that the boat would slip under at low water, so I tied up, took another hit on the cap rail, fortunately on the section I need to replace, but I also lost the bow light (port) when a wave threw us onto the wall. I headed off to explore the port for a better berth and was directed to an inner harbour I hadn’t even seen when we entered by a local fisherman. You can see us on the wall below. We need 6 feet of water to stay afloat, the local fisherman looked worried when I said 2 m water, he shrugged and indicated ‘maybe’. The tide was going to drop by another metre so I took out the lead-line and measured around the boat, on the quay side we had 1.5 metres, on the offshore side we had 3.5 metres, so I figured we might just make it. In the end we didnt touch bottom, but must have been close.

The wall we were now on was much kinder, and you can see below how we rig up the fender boards to protect the boat and fenders

Later on we had a walk around the island, I had planned to hire a car for the day, but we had to leave the next day for Fukuoka, so we didn’t get to see the 3000 year old cedar trees. However we did get to feel the very peaceful mood of the island. Later we found a small funky bar/cafe that did nice food.
One thing I have loved about Japan is the food, standards are very high here, everything tastes amazing, the fruit and veg is the tastiest I have ever had. The fish is so fresh and also very good value, I bought a loin of tuna the size of a small loaf, for about £6.

The trip from Miyanoura to Fukuoka  took three days and nights and was quite rough, the wind was in the high 20 knots, Near gale force and the waves grew to be quite seriously threatening at times.  by now I had the boat prepared, I have been tuning the reefing systems, gybe preventers, jackstays etc, so sudden increases in wind don’t catch me out. 

You can see above at times we recorded 14.1 knots on the GPS, this must be when we got thrown off waves. We had the wind behind us most of the time, this has the effect of making things seem a lot calmer than they are. At one point as I was heading up the companionway to the cockpit when a big wave hit us hard and swung the boat around by about 45 degrees, this caused a crash gybe, this is where the boom flies across the boat from one side to another. This is really dangerous and has been the cause of many casualties on yachts, fortunately my preventers (ropes tied to the boom)  took the sting out of the gybe, but not as well as I had hoped, so there’s work to do there.

On this last leg we saw several shark like fins in the water, and finally for the first time in Aisa, we were joined by some dolphins.

I had put a waypoint in to miss some rocks on the chart, the height of rocks isnt normally shown, so it’s always a surprise to see them towering out of the sea.

Sometimes a fishing buoy will appear out of nowhere, at one point I was pondering how deserted most of the sea was, and keeping a constant watch wasn’t really needed so far offshore when a bloody submarine surfaced about 0.5nm from me. quite a sight.

We passed many islands, often uninhabited, but this one stank of sulphur, so I presume it’s still an active volcano.

The sea was very rough and the wind growing to 30 knots when we arrived at Fukuoka in the middle of the night 2AM, I had hoped to find my way into the marina with the help of the full moon, however the cloud cover took most of that advantage out. We were being tossed around the bay trying to identify the entrance to the marina, you basically have to come off a rough sea and into the marina, I was worried if the wind was as bad in the marina as outside I wouldnt be able to control the boat, never mind finding somewhere to tie up. I had a rough plan of the marina, but it wasnt matching up with what I could see. In the end we nudged the boat in and found it to be quite calm in there, I found an empty pontoon, and at 3AM we tied up and crashed out. I expected to be woken about 8am and told to move, but no, they left us alone, when we woke up around 9:30, I went to the office, they assigned me a new berth, and told me they didn’t need any ships papers, and as the authorities were on holiday due to ‘Golden Week’ we wouldn’t be bothered. Bliss.

The marina above is next to a big wheel, which is part of a huge outlet mall.

Later we went for a walk and found the locals all down on the river at low tide, cockling I think.

Below is the view from our berth, this morning a gang (not sure of the correct collective noun)  of jet skiers appeared Kathy ponders the instructions for the fender covers we make from a kit of tubing and cable ties.

I managed to fix most of the problems we had earlier, the LEDs were rebuilt for the compass, I have bought a new starter battery, and the boom cover has been restitched.
I have the AIS over wifi working reliably now, part of this meant trashing the wifi routers, and I couldn’t get wifi to the outside world working, but now it is, we have good wifi on the boat via the marina.  Moving the aerial on the wind sensor module seems to have solved that problem.

Yet new things break at a pace, the sump pump switch for the shower has failed, both of our toothbrush charges packed in, why?

I tried to get the blog to update with emails from the sat phone, but so far it only publishes the title, not the body of the email, so I will have to post empty blogs with very long interesting titles if I want to update from offshore.

Tomorrow morning (Sunday) at 7AM we leave to head for the inland sea, its about 200nm to the start point of the rally, and we have 5 days to get there, so it should be a breeze. We will be passing through the Kanmon strait, a very busy shipping route, but also one with very fast currents, On Monday when we enter the currents will reach up to 7knots, they also have the effect of pushing you into the path of oncoming ships at one narrow place.  I’m not too worried, I think I have the timing such that the tide will push us through very quickly and the whole passage through the strait will be less than 2 hours, also having sailed up and down the Mersey, I have some good experience with strong tides.

Plans are evolving as we progress, currently I think we will leave the boat in Seattle for several months and return to the UK earlier, I have lots of things I want to do with the boat once we get to the USA, including bringing the mast down for a service. we may return in the new year, do some work, then head up to Alaska or Vancouver for the spring/summer, leaving Mexico till the following year. If we do this, then we have more time for the pacific crossing, and may be able to break up the trip with a stop at the Aleutian Islands, somewhere I have been curious about since I first saw them on a map.

Once again, we won’t have much in the way of Internet access now, Kathy has a SIM with 500mb left, so we need to wait until we find public wifi again. At least now I have the Airmax working well again, I might be able to get connections from the boat.

Paul Collister

Early in the morning of Wednesday March 21st we waved Ian and Marilyn off from the anchorage at Kaoua and soon afterwards, set off for Ulugan. Ian had told Paul the forecast was for little wind and we had a bit of a choppy start to the passage with no sail to stabilise us on the waves. Now that we’ll be doing more overnight passages, and especially as we’re more likely to encounter rougher conditions the further north we go, our ‘grab bags’ were filled. Like several things on a boat, they are something you have on board but hope never to use. Waterproof bags are placed near the hatch, ready to grab in an emergency (when we’re preparing to board something else we never hope to use, for instance: the liferaft!). Inside one bag, we placed passports, boat’s papers and bank cards. The other bag contains sachets of water, seasickness tablets, torches (one of which is clockwork) an epirb (a device which informs of our position) a hand held VHF radio and GPS .  The waves increased as night fell, and although the wind picked up it was in the wrong direction for sailing. Our night watches now have us life jacketed and clipped on as we stumble around doing checks. It’s one of my biggest fears that in rough seas, Paul has to clamber onto the coach roof to adjust sails and poles while being thrown around. The likelihood of him slipping in rough conditions is all too real for me and the first thing I do when I wake is to check he’s ok.

The boat rode a switchback of high waves all through the night, which causes a decidedly ‘drunken’ gait when moving around. Bruises appear on knees, thighs and arms from being shoved into hard edges, and like monkeys, we grab overhead rails to propel ourselves along. Apparently it wasn’t supposed to be this rough and Paul was sure it would improve shortly. Before that happened, though a few items left their shelves, flew through the doors and scattered all over the floor, including a box of washers and a container full of provisions we’d bought for the Pacific crossing. Paul got covered in diesel while attempting to fill the tank, and had to turn the boat into the wind to stabilise it. Worst of all, my shelf of books overturned so that the spines were hidden and only the pages were showing – a nightmare for me to look at and to be unable to rectify.

Making a coffee or eating anything more ambitious than a cereal bar or bags of snacks, biscuits etc was not possible and a timely reminder that I need to prepare things in advance for these passages. The day blurred into both of us alternately sitting, lying, sleeping, checking conditions, course speed and direction. Paul made us pot noodles – or the Malay equivalent – for dinner which, with the addition of bread made an ideal easy passage meal. The squall arrived just after midnight!

It was terrifying at times. The sails that had helped our speed were banging and flapping in the wind. The wind vane had been doing so well but the wind changed direction and caught us off guard. It increased in knots very quickly and I watched anxiously as Paul crawled along the port side to sort out the sheets while the boat was listing and crashing into the waves. I struggled to hear the instructions he was yelling above the roar of the wind and the banging of the sail block. I had to turn the deck lights on, switch the autohelm on, change the course on the dial above the hatch – all of which meant trying to locate my glasses, and a torch in order to see where the switches were, while trying to remain upright in the rocky conditions. The rain was coming down in sheets and I looked at Paul, all lit up by the spreader lights as he brought the boat back on course, soaked with rainwater and dodging the waves that were crashing into the cockpit. ‘Are we in grave danger?’ I asked. His response (which reassured me) was that he felt in grave danger of going insane if the alarm on his phone wasn’t switched off soon! This is the alarm he uses to wake him every 20 minutes while he is on watch! I hadn’t even heard that in the background with all the other noise. That example is par for the course on any passage and never seems such a big deal once it’s passed. It didn’t stop me from sleeping to be ready for my watch, but only after I extracted my usual promise that Paul would clip on if he had to go on the coach roof. By the time I took over at 5am, all was calm and I took pleasure in watching the sky go through a fabulous range of colours before the sun peeped up on the horizon.

Our progress was slow but steady throughout the day, but we were burning more fuel than Paul anticipated due to not being able to sail as much as we’d wanted to. Nature’s elements take on increased relevance at sea because of their impact on our comfort and progress. We’re constantly checking the wind speed and direction, looking for dark clouds on the horizon, the height of the waves as well as what phase the moon is in and when it will rise. I can also see why sailors get inspired to learn about star constellations and planets. That night, after a dinner of sausages, potatoes and beans I sat in the cockpit admiring them. Because it was such a clear night, with no light pollution or obstructions, they appear beautifully vivid in the blackness and are quite mesmerising.

The next night, I had to wake Paul a few times to sort out various incidents with the sails. Once, the topping lift became disengaged and the boom was ramming against the solar panels. I watched as he attempted to retrieve its rope with a boat hook while it was flying around fairly high up. He had to get in some precarious positions while the boat was rocking, which had me mentally rehearsing the man overboard procedure until he retrieved it. We ploughed on through high waves in an up and down motion, consequently not making much headway: our average speed was 3 knots instead of the desired 6. There was also a lot of sea spray coming over the sides, which certainly wakes you up when you’ve just come on watch all groggy, and stick your head out for a quick look around!

Making coffee down below one morning, I was shocked when I noticed a boat alongside us from the window and rushed up to see it. It turned out to be the first of the many fishing ‘bancas’ we would see in the Philippines. Three men were on board the wide, raft-like vessel which is distinctive for its balancing wooden contraptions on each side of the hull. It seemed they had simply come for a closer look and waved and smiled at me when I appeared in the cockpit, then motored off into the choppy waves. I marvelled at how far out they were; land, in the form of Palawan, was a long way off and it looked too flimsy to withstand the increasingly rough water but really, what do I know  ;).

Despite Paul’s repeated assurances that it would soon get calmer, it never really did for the whole of the passage, but at least he provided me with the hope that it might, and it was nice to feel justified in lying around reading because it wasn’t possible to do much else. On the morning of Saturday 24th March we watched Ulugan Bay get closer. More bancas began to appear and in the lee of the hills the sea finally grew calmer. Finding a spot to anchor in meant tackling the dreaded coral. Even with two depth sounders and me at the bow looking out for the shallows, we still managed to scrape along a bit of coral – a horrid sound indeed. We meandered around for a while practising spotting it and attempting to determine if the bed was mostly sandy. So many factors need to be right, and all at the exact moment. It gets very stressful, especially after not much sleep and the intense heat beating down. Still, we did it on our second attempt and were secure by 1 30 in a peaceful and picturesque bay on the west side of Palawan Island. Paul went ashore on his own a bit later to check out the procedure for immigration while I got myself and the boat shipshape. He returned to state that it resembled parts of The Anambas Islands in that it was very basic. He also said he’d arranged for a tricycle (which I found hard to picture) to take us to Puerto Princesa in the morning.

Ulugan Bay looked gorgeous just after sunrise the following day, surrounded as it is by lush green hills and pretty mangroves, with only a few fishing boats on the calm water.

Our approach to the little dock in the village of Macarascas was watched by a few curious and smiling faces who continued to stare as we tied the dinghy and unloaded our bags for the day trip. The village is primitive as Paul said, but it looked lovely, and had a friendly vibe. I thought it was charming, and I liked the fact that the villagers hang out at the waterside, chatting, smoking, children playing nearby. There were a number of dogs too. Once the guy who’d dealt with the trike hire had been found, we were led to the tricycle – which turned out to be a motorbike with a sidecar.

These are like taxis in the Philippines and each one is customised and decorated according to its owner’s taste. I had no idea how long the journey would take and once we’d squeezed into the surprisingly small seat and the engine started, I couldn’t ask because the noise was deafening. Puerto Princesa is located on the east side of the island, directly opposite Ulugan so our route traversed the middle of the island. It seems the custom is to honk the horn at anyone coming towards you, whether it’s a car, bike or trike. Unable to talk, there was plenty to look at. If I was expecting the Philippines to resemble Malaysia and Thailand I soon discovered that it differs from them in ways that are hard to pin down. I couldn’t take pictures on the journey but took as many as I could during the stops. The houses we passed looked very much like chalets, each one different but all quite small.

We stopped after about 30 minutes at a place called Salvacion. Here, we were supposed to get a bus to Puerto Princesa. We hadn’t even got out of the trike (not an easy task when you’ve been scrunched up in such a small space) when we were approached by guys from a roadside café who urged us to try their wonderful coffee while we waited. He was very proud of his coffee and rightly so as it happened. We sat at a table where dogs were snoozing under the chairs. We  sipped strong Americanos and chatted to the owners about where we were from, going to and so on.

The owner had promised to let us know when the bus arrived but I did wonder, noticing one drive off if perhaps that was it. We’ll never know because not long after a guy came over and said the bus was full and the next one was an hour away. We were offered the chance to take a trike for the rest of the journey with this guy’s friend who happened to be free. After a bit of haggling we agreed a price and were led to our second trike. Paul suspected we might have unwittingly helped the mate get some business as we had no way of knowing about the bus times or availability but it hardly mattered anyway as long as we got there. We hired him for the whole day and he would be taking us to the immigration building, the yacht club where we would be meeting Ian and Marilyn and back to Macarascas too so it was a better deal really. After the tank was filled with fuel from a stash of coke bottles, the journey resumed on bumpy, gravelly roads through rural Palawan. Tiny villages were set back from the main road, bordered by lush vegetation with rolling hills beyond.

Some parts of the route were steep and I wondered if the trike would make it when the engine juddered and we slowed right down. Undeveloped land was littered with signs saying ‘No Trespassing – land belongs to…’ suggesting there are plans for construction right across the island. Every single shop we passed was named for its owner; ‘Lhily’s Store’, ‘Franky’s Store’ for example. I saw no brand name shops in the villages, but I guess that could change if planned development takes off. There were several churches of various denominations along the way, and we were reminded that it was Palm Sunday by groups of people waving the traditional branches around as they came out. Gradually, larger and more industrial buildings began to appear, along with gaudy signs for local karaoke bars, night clubs and restaurant and I knew we must be approaching Puerto Princesa. Our driver stopped a couple of times to consult with people for directions, but we came upon it almost by accident –both of us recognising it from the google images. It was a complex of three shops on a busy street in the centre, but there was no immigration building there. A handwritten sign adorned with smileys informed us that it had relocated to a shopping mall, which was closed on Sundays. Checking in would have to wait until El Nido.

Our next mission was to find an ATM. Quite a few wouldn’t accept our cards and Paul ended up changing some US dollars at a money changing kiosk. Puerto Princesa is a busy, traffic-choked town, quite a contrast from the rural idylls we’d driven through. On our way to the yacht club, the thin metal sides of the side car radiated heat as we queued in traffic and it felt like we were being boiled as the journey went on. It was worth it when we found the place though. Situated by the waterside overlooking the bay, there was a cooling breeze and a bar offering food and drink. Soon, Ian and Marilyn were dinghying over to join us from Songbird and we had a pleasant hour or so eating lunch and catching up with them.

We called our driver (we really should remember to ask names) and got him to take us to a mall so we could stock up on a few things and then readied ourselves for the return journey. This was a lot less uncomfortable because the heat of the sun had waned by then. Back at Macarascas there was the expected interested group of people at the quay watching as we parked up to load our things into the dinghy. The plan was for me to wait there while Paul got our driver to take him to a petrol station to buy fuel (a one hour round trip). Thankfully, a helpful guy, overhearing this, pointed out that the shop right next to us sold diesel. The lady owner poured 60 coke bottles full of it into our containers which we loaded that into the overcrowded dinghy. To the accompaniment of children waving and shouting farewell and dogs barking, we set off back across the bay to figure out our plans for the next leg.

 

 

I will write more about the trip through the Philippines at some point, but now we are in Japan I wanted to get an update down before I forget it all.

Leaving the Philippines

We checked out in San Fernando La Union on the North west coast of the main Philippine island of Luzon, we had a lovely stop there, a local fisherman rowed out to us in his banca and offered to do any jobs we wanted, he took my diesel jugs ashore and returned with 60ltr of fuel, he also got us 30ltr of drinking water and finally he went to the timber yard for me and brought back two freshly sawn planks I could use as fender boards, I had heard they were a must in Japan. He did all of this with a smile and didn’t want very much for his time. The people there were very poor, they lived in a small shanty like town on the edge of the beach, and although very basic, the people there seemed happy.

It was some 500 odd miles to the southern islands of Japan from there and we called into Basco port on Batanes Island, which was a days sails out of San Fernando. On the way we had an engine problem, it’s only small I think, some gas escaping on the cylinder head, it may be a gasket or the injector seating as that was a problem before. However I don’t fancy finding a mechanic in Japan, or paying his bill. We will have to see. Anyway the winds were good so we hoped to sail the rest of the way. We anchored just into the harbour, and had hoped to get a nights sleep in without any fuss, but the coastguard had other ideas and ordered me to visit him in his office, which was a right pain, as I had stowed the dinghy and outboard away, not expecting to need them before we got to Canada/America. Ashore he went over all my papers and passport and after 30 minutes of questioning I was told everything was fine and now I had to visit the port authority to get permission to stay. Eventually I was back on the boat and checked the weather, using our sat phone. Things were planned to get worse in 3 days time, so I suggested to Kathy we leave now, and try to beat the bad weather, as it was coming our way anyway, so off we went. We didn’t beat it.

Although the first night was calm, early in the evening I smelt a familiar smell, that of a battery gassing, our batteries are sealed and so can’t gas unless they are in a very bad way, I looked at the battery monitor and could see the battery volts to be very low, and given the strength of the smell I assumed things were not good. In a controlled panic sort of way we emptied pots pans, clothes , two bicycles, and much more junk out of the quarter berth, and removed the mattress to get to the battery bank. As I thought one of the batteries had gone into thermal run-away. I wasn’t quite sure where this might lead, but batteries can explode, I wondered if they can catch fire, so I very quickly unbolted the connections to it, and saw the battery voltage rise on the other 3  120AH batteries in parallel with it. I lifted the faulty battery out of its wooden box and let the air flow around it, it was too hot to touch. I think we just caught it in time. Kathy went to bed, and I continued with my watch.

The next morning we put the quarter berth back  together, I replaced the faulty baterry with the engine starter battery, which was from the same batch. A few hours into daylight Kathy pointed out an approaching dark patch, the temperature was already dropping and it was a very grey day, within another hour it started raining then the wind hit us, we were now in the 20 knot range and the seas started to build quickly. I had hoped it was a squall, and the radar seemed to confirm this, yet when the rain passed, we still had grey skies, strong wind and building seas. A few hours later we were being thrown around something wicked.

Not long after this A pigeon landed on the boat and made it his home, shortly followed by four more pigeons.They were all ringed, so presumably they were on their way home.  Kathy loved it, and tried to feed them some nuts and cereal, but they seemed fat enough and all it did was to create even more mess for me to clean up later. That night was difficult, there was no moon and with a cloud covered sky it was black. The wind was on the nose, the waves were about 10ft – 15ft high and we were going north, but a starboard tack sent us SW and a port tack sent us SE, so we were going backwards, and getting beaten up. In the end we tied the rudder midships, left the mainsail reefed and went below for the night. The boat moved along nicely at about 1.5 knots and we tried to get some sleep. At one point a very big wave lifted the boat up and spun us through 90 degrees or more, so that when we hit the water again we were on a different tack, but as we only had the main up we left it like that for a few more hours, perhaps the wind knew best.

The next day was still rough but we could make a little progress forward, during the night the wind sensor failed to work, it’s wifi and often looses contact with the sender, I need to investigate.  Also at one point the auto helm gave up against the seas and decided to send us back to the Philippines, I came on deck, stepping over pigeons to take control but found the wind sensor out, and worst of all the little LEDs that light the normal binnacle compass were out, so I couldn’t read it. In the total darkness, when you can’t see the sails, or the instruments, it’s very difficult to work out the course to steer. Also waves were making it into the cockpit and I had to have my full set of oililies on, and I was feeling cold and damp.I began to wonder what madness had driven me from Malaysia. Of course all was fixed with the help of a torch and a few resets on the wind sensor.

The next day was predicted to be calmer by predictwind.com, our source of satellite weather data. It did calm a little and the pigeons all took off in unison, there were two great big ships on the horizon and I wondered if that was were they were heading.

Soon we were in the lee of Iriomote, a large island we have to go around to get to Ishigaki, and things calmed right down. Kathy sailed us into the harbour were we headed for the best berth that I had been informed of by a local I contacted via noon site.

On arriving at the port, the berth I wanted was full, the berths here consist of huge concrete walls you go alongside, mostly designed for big ships. A man came out and waved at us to go to a space on a nearby wall, which we did, he helpfully took our lines and immediately 3 coastguard (CG) officials turned up and introduced themselves.One was the official I had been in email contact with to notify them of our arrival. Pre arrival notification, along with the 7 page forms you have to send is just the start of a prolonged check in process that takes a day or two. The CG was very polite but also vert very keen that we stay on the boat until formalities had been completed, he even seemed upset that kathy put a hand on the wall. We waited an hour while the CG made phone calls and chatted amongst themselves before we were told we had to move to another berth. Then they arranged for one of the big (200ft) CG vessels to launch a RIB to guide us to the dock next to us, something we could have found ourselves by them pointing to the spot. When we were in the new dock, much more foreboding in terms of concrete covered in barnacles, and also 6ft higher up than the decks on our little boat, the CG men reappeared, they were joined by several more CG staff. A regular occurrence over the next 2 days as we started the check in process. We were told to stay on the boat and Quarantine, customs and Immigration would be along soon. Sure enough they all duly turned up and I had 8 people in the cockpit taking turns to get me to fill in forms, customs, Quarantine and Coastguard. Immigration would be done later at the immigration office. While I was dealing with all of this the tide was dropping. I wasn’t allowed ashore to adjust the lines, and they had tied me off with little slack, I hadn’t noticed at first, but the boat was close to the wall, and some passing wake from a powerboat pushed us hard onto a big rubber fender bolted to the wall and smashed a chunk of caprail off, this is the very pretty wood that goes around the edge of the boat.I pointed this out to Kathy and she went and had a look and came back and told me the bowsprit was smashed up. Fortunately it was only the platform,This was on the replacement list anyway, but I expect it smashed when we slammed down into a wave on the passage. I have sellotaped it back together and hope it will get us to America. I may have to screw some wooden slats over it to make it more secure.

After a few hours they all left, customs did a search of the boat and took swabs from all the surfaces, Quarantine asked the usual question, did we have any dead animals on board, had anyone died on passage, were we ill etc. The coastguard wanted lots of documents we don’t have, Lloyds certificate, gross tonnage documentation, cargo description, last ten ports we called at! Had we ever been to North Korea? Later the Immigration officials drove us to their office were they very cheerfully gave us 3 month visas and drove us off to the port authority were we had to pay our dues for the concrete slab that was ripping our boat to bits. I paid for 5 days as I expected the boat jobs might take a while.

Thankfully by now I had rigged up fender boards from San Fernando and the boat was coping well.

Next we headed into town for some dinner and our first experience of Japanese culture. All I can say so far, things are different here, I didn’t spot a single chain/brand here, so far I haven’t been to a large town aywhere in the world that doesn’t have a McDonnell’s or Starbucks, but I haven’t seen one here yet, no Body Shop, no KFC, no Pizza Hut, but lots of very individual shops, bars and cafes. Kathy will elaborate I’m sure. We found the post office and got some YEN out, wandered around the market, I saw some amazing tuna loins, then found a nice bar that did food and had an english menu, and had dinner.

WiFi is proving difficult here, it’s complicated to get a SIM card, and prices are high, most people rent a MiFI data modem, but that’s difficult for us, I’m going to see if we can get one here and return it up near Tokyo. Until then I’m using roaming on my Malaysian SIM, or we use cafe internet.

I asked the CG today if they could help me get some fuel, this ended up with 8 CG staff all standing on the quay discussing the problem. after 30 minutes they arranged for a tanker to visit and refuel me. However they couldn’t fill my plastic jerry cans due to Japanese law saying cans must be made of stainless steel. They all disappeared and 30minutes later another man appeared saying he would wait until the tanker arrived. Not long after 6 CG people arrived and discussed the fuel situation. Then two guys turned up from environmental  control, they advised that my boat could not be refuelled this way because of the chance of spillage from the deck filling point, given the ‘High Pressure’ from the truck. More flapping, more CG come and go, next a CG with some english explained that I could use my plastic cans with fuel in them to fill my tank and the lorry could fill the plastic cans, something that was  illegal an hour ago. So I went to fill the tank with the 6 * 20ltr jerry cans, when there was uproar about a possible spillage, I showed them I could do it without spillage and they relaxed, until the 4th can, when the boss CG sent a man onboard to monitor my fuel gauge, and as it was showing 3/4 full he told me I could do no more in case it overflowed. I argued and tried to explain the gauge is not linear, and 3/4 meant there was room for another 50ltr, but he got pissed off with me and said he would cancel my request to visit the closed port. We compromised on another 20ltr.

The truck didn’t arrive, but one of the CG took my cans to the petrol station and filed them for me.

After the fuel was sorted I had to go to the Department of Transport to register my intent to visit some closed ports. Basically Japan has several thousand ports, and for many years no foreign ships were allowed into these ports without special government permission, after WWII they opened Tokyo to foreign ships, and later a handful of the bigger ports were opened, like Ishigaki where we are now. However several of the ports we wish to visit are still closed so we have to apply, in person, the the department of transport, in a building out of town for permission. it didn’t help that two of the ports we are visiting aren’t on their list of open or closed ports, so I have been told to apply for them in the office nearer to them when I get there. Customs here have already made me sign a form to say I can get 2 years in Jail and a 2,000,000 YEN fine for going to a closed port without the permit.

We ended the day with a trip to a supermarket a bit out of town which had a fantastic range of fresh food and fish followed by a lovely drink in a cafe with very fast internet.

I just received an email from the CG asking me if I got fuel and if so, can I call into their office to fill out a form for Ships taking on provisions. They like their paperwork here.

To be fair, the officials have all been extremely helpful and courteous, and given the communications problems, I can’t fault them, I think it might help them to see that yachts travel all around the world with very little paperwork, and it doesn’t seem to cause any problems.

Paul Collister

After a deep sleep we woke to a lovely Sunday morning, but there wasn’t going to be any chance of customs being open, we hired a Trike, which is basically a motorbike with a sidecar welded on. The whole construction seemingly made of re-bar. It was a one hour ride into Peurto Princessa (PP) where we were very pleased to meet up with Ian and Marilyn from Songbird, who had set off the same time as us from Malaysia, but had been more daring and gone up the east side of Palawan, spitting in the faces of the pirates, and they were able to sail right into PP. We had lunch at the delightful PP Abalinco Yacht club, and then hit the Mall for some real bread, wine, drinks etc. Then an arduous 90 minute ride back to the boat in the trike, and at the harbour/jetty I was able to purchase 60 litres of diesel from the corner shop which would get us to our next port of El Nido, I hoped.

I’m going to be brief about the following days, we have been racing through the islands here hoping to get to Japan on time, and my illness didn’t help. I could write pages on each location we visited, but we need to come back and spend at least one whole season, or year here. It’s a great country. However, I have to get working on my passage plan for Japan, I don’t have a lot of internet, or time, so briefly… (Pics to follow)

From PP we shot up to Jibboom bay, partly because it was a convinient stop, but also because I loved the name, it was a very secluded, and the perfect getaway, if it wasn’t for the sand flies that wreaked havoc on our legs. The next morning we left and arrived in Corong Corong with is a bay next to El Nido, full of tourists and quite a crazy place. I was beginning to get the feeling that Filipinos like to party. We stayed 2 nights there to recuperate a little then off again to Puerto Galera overnight, the place is gorgeous, we anchored as the yacht club mooring buoys were all taken by there easter regatta. We had four nights there and loved the place, we restocked on fuel and food/drink, and checked into the country proper. We were now legal and hadn’t had to pay any ‘coffee money’ yet.

From there we sailed to Subic Bay, doing this 24 hour passage overnight. However the wind was so good to us, we arrived in the middle of the night, 2AM, so we anchored off the coast till daylight then went into the bay, hoping for a marina berth in one of the two marinas there. Both were full due to a big regatta taking place, but we picked up a free mooring outside the lighthouse bar/restaurant. A great place to provision with huge well stocked American style supermarkets. After one night there we slipped are mooring and headed north doing another overnighter to San Fernando La union, where we are now. We went to checkout of the country this afternoon, but found their is a holiday today and they are shut. So tomorrow morning we check out and head for Japan.

Paul Collister

Our intention was to stay in Sutera Harbour for a few days, prepare for the trip to the Philippines and continue travelling north to the island of Palawan. Things, as they say, didn’t quite go to plan, however.  We spent Wednesday March 7th sticking to our schedule, which was mainly shopping for drinks, fresh produce and other essentials for the two-week passage. The morning was taken up with a visit to a supermarket known for its variety of Western products and selection of cheeses. In the afternoon, we visited the market in KK’s centre so that Paul could buy some fresh fish, and stopped for a drink in one of the waterside bars overlooking the bay, noting that it would be the last time we’d see it for several years – if at all. From there we went to Imago Mall for a bite to eat and a final shop in the supermarket there, and took a taxi back to the boat to stow it all away.

The morning of our departure got off to a promising start. Provisions were stowed, the water and fuel tanks were filled, engine checks done and the passage plan was all set up in the cockpit on the iPad. I reached into the fridge, to get some spread for my toast and remarked that it didn’t feel as cold as usual. Paul did some checks and confirmed that the fridge had stopped working. A more detailed examination revealed that it wasn’t going to be a quick fix, and it looked as though we would have to postpone leaving. We quickly dispatched our frozen goods to Ian and Marilyn’s boat where they kindly agreed to store it for us. The rest would be fine for a while as it was still cold enough inside the fridge, but there was quite a lot of food in there for a two-week passage. We also had the added stress of having checked out and without knowing how long the problem would take to fix, weren’t sure whether we should check back in again. Word spread about our plight and we had several offers of help and advice from neighbours and marina staff. Paul spent most of the day researching, emailing and contacting various firms and distributors about obtaining a new controller for the fridge to replace the faulty one. By the evening it had been ordered from a place in Devon to be delivered here by DHL on Monday. We had also acquired a huge bag of ice to help preserve the contents of the fridge, so things were looking up and we decided a few days’ delay wasn’t such a big deal . Paul took advantage of the extra time to take his water-logged iPhone to a kiosk in Imago Mall. A chap there had offered to fix it over the course of a few days but at the time we had planned to be leaving the following day.  On the walk back,  we discussed how we might spend the unplanned extended weekend we’d be having in KK…cycle rides maybe, swimming in the resort’s pools, a bit of bowling perhaps? We did none of those things as it turned out. The next ten days would prove to be a lot more stressful than sorting out a broken fridge.

We were both up early on Friday 9th March. Paul had begun to feel ill during the night. He complained of feeling chilled, was shivering uncontrollably and said he was aching all over. He’d also been sweating a lot and had a headache. He’s had random attacks like this before so he took some paracetamol which usually helps, but he didn’t feel much better by morning. He decided this might be an opportune time for me to practise taking and recording vital signs with the medical equipment we have on board. I retrieved the thermometer and a blood pressure and pulse monitoring device and following the instructions, recorded both of our results so that we could compare and contrast. Although Paul’s pulse was normal, his temperature was quite high and his blood pressure was slightly low. He felt lethargic, too so we guessed a day or two taking it easy with regular doses of paracetamol and ibuprofen would sort it out. He dozed most of the day but whenever he woke he still felt rough, he was shivery and his temperature remained high. That night we made the mistake of looking up symptoms online and checking what to do when someone’s temperature doesn’t go down. The number of life-threatening diseases he could potentially have was staggering and scary. Malaria and dengue fever seemed the most likely, according to his symptoms and I kept thinking of his time in the volcanic mud pool on Tiga. Moreover, I had sat in the cockpit earlier that evening so as not to disturb his sleep and ended up with several mosquito bites of my own. We’d heard that incidents of dengue fever had been reported in the nearby stilted village and I thought how awful it would be if we both went down with it. It’s easy to imagine all sorts of worst case scenarios when someone falls ill in a tropical country, and I’m the first to admit that dealing with sick people is not one of my strong points.

Saturday dawned with no improvement after another night of uncontrollable shaking and sweating. I kept suggesting calling a doctor, and even got the list of numbers we’d been given by marina staff for emergencies but typically, Paul kept insisting it was a viral infection and it would pass in a day or two. By the afternoon, though, his temperature had risen to 40 and he’d become delirious;  by which I mean he was awake but narrating a vivid dream about rivers of chocolate among other bizarre things.  It’s so not like Paul to ramble on making no sense and I was seriously alarmed. I told him I was going to get Ian and Marilyn, thinking they might be able to persuade him to see a doctor. I knew he was bad when he didn’t protest, just nodded and said that would be fine. They both agreed with me he needed medical attention as soon as they saw him. Marilyn took his temperature and said he should get checked out at the hospital. I was very grateful for their help and advice. Sometimes you need the assurance and second opinion of a third party to confirm your instincts (as well as to convince a stubborn patient).  Paul felt very dizzy and weak by the time we’d got ready and shut the boat up. Ian helped him up the steps to Sutera’s reception area where we called a Grab for the short distance to the Queen Elizabeth Hospital. There, we answered a few questions at the admissions desk and paid the £10 treatment fee for foreigners. We were told to take a seat and wait until someone called the number we’d been given.  A thoughtful security guard, seeing us looking around at the array of led numbered displays and straining to hear the announcements over a tannoy,  made sure we didn’t get confused or miss our turn by looking out for us and prompting us about when and where we had to go. We didn’t have long to wait before being called into the consultation/examination area and after asking a series of questions, the doctor recommended a blood test and rehydration treatment. We had left the boat in a bit of a hurry and hadn’t brought any spare clothing with us. Paul was still shivering and because it was icy cold in the air conditioned building, it wasn’t long before I was too. After his blood test, and while he was attached to a rehydration drip with my shawl around him I went outside for an hour or so to warm myself up and to find a shop to buy water. The diagnosis, when we eventually got it, was a viral infection (if Paul had said ‘I told you so’ at that point I would have been very tempted to slap him 😉 ). Anyway, we were relieved it wasn’t dengue or malaria…and I still blame that mud pool.

The next week or so was all about waiting for the worst of Paul’s fever to pass and to wait for the fridge part to be delivered. At times he felt better, and was even well enough to walk to the mall to collect his iPhone, which had been successfully repaired. To keep the fridge contents cold, we needed to keep buying huge bags of ice from a guy who supplies it to the resort. We’d obtained a number for him from reception but could never get hold of him that way. It was funny hearing Paul on his mobile asking ‘hello, is that the ice man?’ We had to resort to waiting until his van arrived at the car park and making the poor man jump by hailing him when he got out. The virus continued to lay Paul low, however, especially in the way it sapped his energy and he had to resort to just lying on the bunk in the cabin feeling weak and listless. Marilyn pointed out to me that it was strange the results of the blood test had ruled out dengue so quickly as it usually takes longer, which was something I hadn’t considered. It was clear that we wouldn’t be able to continue our travels for at least a few more days.

I took to walking to the mall on my own late in the afternoons to get drinking water and fresh bread while Paul rested in the cabin. Sometimes I stopped at a bar to read or people-watch and enjoy a change of scene. On Monday (12th) the fridge part was delivered and I helped to unload the contents of the locker in the cockpit so Paul could access the area to work on it. Thankfully it seemed to work but we left all the stuff out in case it needed more attention. It was frustrating for Paul to feel confined and restricted from doing anything by feeling so exhausted. The delay in leaving had already meant our time in The Philippines would be cut short, and there was concern we wouldn’t have enough time to get to Japan for the start of the rally we’re booked to take part in. All in all, what with the humidity and the illness, and the frustration of confinement it wasn’t the most content of atmospheres on Sister Midnight. I think my bedside manner could do with some refining and I couldn’t help smiling in amazement when I remembered how I had desperately wanted to be a nurse when I was about 14 – it would never have worked as I’m sure Paul will agree  😉

One afternoon, we met a Japanese lady called Mio who was looking for a boat to crew on as a means of getting back to Japan. She was quite an amazing woman who for six months of the year travelled around wherever she wanted to visit with earned money from collecting rare seaweed on a fishing boat in Japan. Her only rule was that she would not fly anywhere. She had heard we would be sailing to Japan and came to visit us. She understood that we weren’t looking for crew but thought it would be good to chat and to swap information. She very kindly brought us a papaya as a gift. We tried it later and I loved it but Paul’s description made me laugh. He said it resembled a melon, tasted of sock and reminded him of mice! I don’t think the delirium had returned ;). She gave us some useful tips about Japanese culture and food and we passed on some names who might be able to help her.

Paul was keen to get a haircut before we left so we got a taxi to a mall a bit further out of town which has a couple of ‘hair studios’ as well as two bookshops and a good supermarket. I bought a guide book on Japan while Paul had months of hair growth shorn away; he looked and felt much better for it. The excursion exhausted him though so we were definitely right to delay our departure. He ate a meal that evening for the first time in days so although the process was slow, he was definitely improving. Our extended stay allowed time for sorting and arranging the many maps and huge paper navigation charts that are on board. They are fascinating to look at, and selecting the ones that relevant for our imminent travels gave me a better perspective of Philippine locations, especially as I’m reading a book about prisoners of war who were held on Palawan Island during the Second World War.

We hoped to leave sometime during the weekend of March 16th/17th, but Paul still felt like he hadn’t enough energy to do anything other than lie in the cabin and doze. Both of us are feeling quite desperate to move on now, and I was worried in case he was relapsing. By Sunday evening, however, after we’d taken a taxi to Giant Supermarket to get some provisions for the Pacific crossing later this year, Paul said we would leave in the morning as it was only a short hop to a place called Sambulong, and we could always turn back if he felt bad. We left at 10 30 on a blistering hot morning, waved off by Ian and Marilyn who we’ll be keeping in touch with. It was the right thing to do because it wasn’t long before the cool breeze invigorated both of us after being stuck in the heat with little change of scene for so long.

Psychologically, we felt we were moving on and making progress with the planned itinerary, even though our time in The Philippines would be shorter.  The highlight of this short passage was the sight of the imposing Mount Kinabalu when it came into view. I had read all about it during our time in Sutera in December. It’s possible for novices to climb this mountain, and many do. Maybe if we had stayed longer and felt fitter, we would have attempted it. The descriptions of altitude sickness sounded a bit off putting but seem worth it for the spectacular scenes of sunrise visible from the summit. We anchored at 6pm near some FADS (fishing aggregation devices), which are best described as large wooden platforms for fisherman. They use them as a base to fish from, and they have facilities for making drinks, provide shelter from the elements and even have a generator for lights. It looked quite cosy from our position near them when it got dark, and we could hear the men laughing and chatting during the night.

The guys on the FADS waved us off when we left in the morning. Mount Kinabalu looked striking in the early morning sunlight before it faded into the distance behind us. Our destination was Tanjung Kaoua, where Ian and Marilyn were already anchored so we had a chat with them on the VHF before settling down for the night. The spot was pretty but a little bit rolly. This would be our last anchorage for a while. It was to be night passages (and taking turns at four hourly watches) all the way to The Philippines for the next three nights.

 

 

Breaking news…..

You can also see our latest position courtesy of our new Iridium Go satellite device. It updates every hour when on, unlike the map I have on this site which updates whenever I remember I have a map to update.
You can find the iridium tracker at this location (Opens on a new page)