Chapter 9 Idling through Indonesia (1)
Setting the expectation
David, a lean, laconic Australian, led the briefing in Darwin for the crews of the 90-odd yachts entered in the Sail Indonesia 2006 Rally. "Indonesia is probably the most dysfunctional country in the world", he said. "Almost nothing works, things don't happen when they are supposed to, it's a total shambles". As if to underline his point, we were told that the Indonesian organisers had failed to catch their plane and would not make the briefing! "But", he continued with a smile, "the people are probably the friendliest, nicest people you will ever meet. Take it as it comes, keep a smile on your face and you'll have a great time".
We had been warned.
Darwin to Kupang, West Timor
Although billed as a Rally and not a race, there was a formal start, 11.00 hours in front of the Darwin Sailing Club. A few boats decided this could be dangerous and sailed away early, and others hung back from the line but we went for it. At least, we wanted to, but (shades of Indonesia?) the committee boat failed to take up its position at one end of the line when the ten minute gun was due and , although it did arrive soon after, we never quite got the timing right. Still, we can't have been more than two minutes late and were well up as about 80 boats sailed across the line in a light breeze and set course for Kupang, 480 nautical miles away.
The trip was uneventful, barring a close encounter with a large fishing boat on the third night out. We had had a splendid day's sail under spinnaker and decided, rashly, to leave it up as darkness fell, since we were going at a great pace and passing loads of other boats. (A rally, not a race, remember). Luckily the wind remained light for to avoid colliding with the fishing boat we had to gybe the mainsail, leaving the chute to take its chance. For non-sailors, this is the rough equivalent of a 360 degree spin on black ice on a busy highway and not to be recommended. We were lucky; nothing carried away.
We had been warned that Indonesian fishing vessels are not much given to displaying the lights prescribed by the International Rules for Avoiding Collision at Sea, indeed, the smaller ones usually don't display any lights at all, which makes night sailing a bit of a lottery. That caused many of us to slow down during the last 24 hours so as to arrive off the approaches to Kupang with the dawn.
Do you remember going abroad maybe 40 years ago? One of the first things that struck you was that the cars were different. Well, while cars all look the same these days, we knew we were in a different land as soon as we saw a local boat. Indonesian boats are different from those we have encountered around the world. They are mostly long, narrow, usually travel at high speed and are powered by a single cylinder, un-silenced diesel motor. They often have quite high raised cabins, usually at the back end. Mostly they carry a large crew, since hauling nets is done by man-power, not mechanical means. All the crew smile broadly and wave and many cry out "Hello, Mister".
All the rally yachts anchored off the old town of Kupang. There was a small beach decorated with dozens of flags, not the shape of Western flags but tall and narrow. They made a cheerful sight as we awaited clearance from the officials. Behind the beach were the buildings of the town, mostly two-storey and fairly dilapidated so far as we could see. All hours of the day and most of the night there was noise, horns honking, music blaring and, from a nearby mosque, the amplified voice of the Imam calling the faithful to prayer five times a day. (Timor is mostly Christian, by the way, so on Sunday we had Church bells as well).
The officials duly came and processed us quite quickly and efficiently. We were only boarded by five people; some boats had as many as twelve aboard at the same time, all with at least one form to be filled out, signed, stamped and counter-signed. But it was all done with great good humour and no requests for "presents".
Now we could go ashore. From ALIESHA we could see that quite a
surf was breaking on the beach. Happily the organisers had assembled a
team of young men whose job it was to help each dinghy to land safely.
Into the water they waded, the dinghy was grabbed and man-handled up the beach
and out of the surf, and all for a mere 20,000 Rupiah a day (About #1.25) 
There were young people with quite good English there as guides, ready to show
us around the town, arrange a tour to farther afield, show us where the ATM was,
where we could change money, where to get information. It wasn't a
shambles at all, it was very well organised and just the welcome we wanted.
We wandered into the town on our own and made a few purchases. Our Bahasa Indonesia was, and remains, skeletal, but we managed, helped by ready smiles and a few words of English from the shopkeepers. On a subsequent day we took a guide to visit the market and the newly-built supermarket and were treated to several rides in the "bemos", the local mini buses that ply set routes and stop anywhere on demand, hooting their horns and playing music very loudly over massive speakers. It was excitingly different, but we always felt safe and it was fun.
Came the night of the Gala Welcome Dinner, to be attended by the Governor of the Province. We were asked to dress up for the occasion and everyone did, despite the difficulties of landing on a wave-swept beach from a small dinghy. (There were even a couple of little black dresses). After a few beers at Teddy's Bar we were invited into the hotel where the dinner was to take place. Many exquisitely-dressed local ladies and gentlemen stood in line to welcome us. Inside there were, as expected, small round tables laid up for dinner. On either side of the tables several lines of plastic chairs had been laid out and at the end of the room was a small stage with microphones.
Slightly to our surprise, we cruisers were shown to the lines
of chairs while the people who had welcomed us
took the seats at the tables
where they were joined by other locals. There was a brief welcoming speech, a musician performed on
a kind of lute with 40 strings and then another speech from the Governor, translated
for our benefit.
The first course was then served to the people sitting at the tables. We sat on our chairs at the side and were puzzled.
There then took place a prize giving for the winner and runners-up in what was described as a "Table Manners Competition". We were confused. Also hungry.
Word then passed down the ranks of chairs that dinner was ready at the side of the room behind us. Swiftly two lines of cruisers formed and we were served with a very tasty, if spicy meal which we proceeded to eat on our laps. The diners at the tables waited patiently.
It was rumoured that dessert was also being served and with equal speed the cruisers queued, were served and enjoyed their dessert. The diners at the tables stayed put.
And so we passed into the outside courtyard, a little confused at how these things were done in Indonesia but, we all agreed, the food had been pretty good. Outside were rows of stalls, laden with local foods, all freely available - but we were no longer hungry.
Talking it over the next day, there were two schools of thought. One held that the room had been double booked and the organisers had decided to combine our welcome Gala Dinner with the Table Manners Competition. Others said we shouldn't have eaten the food inside, as the diners had only been served a starter, while we had eaten their main course and dessert and then ignored the people who had toiled to prepare regional dishes for us outside. Nobody knew the truth. It was, after all, Indonesia.
In fairness we must report that the following night there was another dinner, this time billed as a BBQ Reception given by the Mayor of Kupang. It was a perfectly normal, pleasant evening with a nice meal, brief speeches, singers and a troupe of dancing girls in traditional costume. True, it was organised by Teddy, proprietor of Teddy's Bar, owner of Teddy's Hotel and Taxi firm and married to an Australian. It was very enjoyable.
Rinja and Komodo
After five days in Kupang the rally timetable called for us all to head North East to the island of Alor where more fun and festival awaited. We said "No". Being in so large a gathering day after day, being organised (!) and scheduled (!!) day after day was beginning to pall. Since mid February, when we first learned of Edna's accident and knew we had to hurry back to England we had felt we were no longer in control of our lives but were dancing to another's tune. We wanted peace, quiet, to avoid being organised, to chill out.
So we turned ALIESHA away from Alor and the delights the programme promised (more dinners, more welcome speeches, more local artistes and crafts) and headed north west to the Island of Flores and then to Rinja (aka Rinca) and Komodo, home to the monitor lizard of that name. BLUE SIPP and AZIMUT came with us.
An easy overnight sail brought us to the small town of Ende half way along
the mountainous south coast of Flores. Ende sits on the neck of a
promontory about five miles long. At the seaward end of the promontory is
an active volcano, breathing clouds of smoke and steam into the air as we passed
by. Volcanoes fascinate us. If this one really blew, that
would be the end of Ende!
We anchored just off the town on the western side and soon were approached and boarded by two small boys who informed us that the officials were coming to inspect us. This they duly did, although current Indonesian regulations do not require it. Perhaps they hadn't heard, or maybe they were just curious. Anyway, after taking a copy of our passports, ship's papers and and Cruising Permit, they went on their way, again with no requests for "presents" and we were left to enjoy the evening.
The shoreside was black sand. On it the local boys played endless games of football while the girls strolled together and talked about the boys, or whatever took their fancy. It was a happy, relaxed scene. No-one took much notice of us, or came out to view us at first hand. If they had any concerns about living on top of a volcano, it didn't show.
N ext day the sail along the mountainous south coast of Flores was spectacular. One mountain towered some 3500 metres above sea level and was partially obscured by clouds. It remained in sight until dusk.
Rinja is a small mountainous island, just off the western tip of Flores.
We entered the pass at the southern end
after
an easy overnight sail and anchored off a white sandy
beach behind which were low trees before the mountains rose steeply, covered in
scrub. We were reminded of some of the Greek islands, the Dodecanese and
the Cyclades. There were no signs of human habitation. Soon AZIMUT
came up on the VHF. "There's a pig on the beach behind you, and a Komodo
dragon just after the pig". And there was, too!
We went ashore. It is truly awful to see the accumulated mess of
plastic on the beaches of such beautiful spots. 
Much better were the two Komodos we encountered, each maybe three metres long and heavy bodied, moving
purposefully along the beach and paying us little heed. Still, Dick armed
himself with a stout stick and was careful to send Pam in front from then
onwards. Eckhardt from AZIMUT did better. Venturing away from the beach he
found a watering hole and there glimpsed a deer. Buffalo droppings hinted
at larger quarry but none revealed themselves on this occasion.
After a couple of days we moved to a mooring buoy provided about half a
mile away and there enjoyed the antics of a troupe of monkeys on the beach every
evening. This was the place we had been seeking.
Rinja offered more delights, especially Gingoe Bay on its western side.
Here more monkeys
played on the beach in front of us. Travelling up a
watercourse from the beach we glimpsed a buffalo, presumably wild. There
were more Komodos, smaller than we had seen before but menacing for all that.
Only the snorkeling disappointed as the water was very cloudy.
From Rinja we sailed the 14 miles to Komodo Island, joining AZIMUT in a
deserted bay where wild pigs provided the evening entertainment. Soon a
small sail approached and we met Hakim, wanting to sell us carved dragons
pearl
necklaces and bracelets and T-shirts. He had an engaging manner and after
some good-natured haggling we bought some of his wares. Leaving, he asked
if we would like a fish and promised to bring us a big one at 1000 the next
morning. Well, 1000 came and and no Hakim. At 1030 we pulled up the
anchor and sailed away, but Hakim intercepted us and showed us his catch, a
beautiful Red Snapper. After more haggling a price was agreed and it must
have been too high as he then offered to scale and clean the fish for us for no
extra money! It was delicious.
We tried some of the other anchorages on Komodo Island before heading back to northern Rinja and the town of Labuan Bajo on western Flores, where we would buy provisions. Disaster struck. Pam realised that the fridge was no longer working. But then, serendipity. We anchored next to another Rally boat, Calypso JJ. Hearing of our problem they not only took the contents of our fridge into their own (they have a pretty large boat) but also armed us with a contact in Labuan Bajo who spoke good English and who, they thought, could find us a fridge engineer.
And they did, and he worked for eight hours to diagnose and fix a partially blocked pipe. Our fridge has never worked so well and we lost nothing. The cost? 500,000 Rupiah, or about #30.00. Thank you, Indonesia.
