>Aaron's letter >
>Dear Nanny, 19/11/01
>
>Um...
>
>Hi...
>
> Here I am again. I felt that I owed another letter so here it is: I wrote
last from, well, I just checked my records and am horrified to find that you
haven't heard from me since Australia. Opps, sorry. Since you still claim to
love my letters, I will give you another dose until you finally beg for mercy.
Then and only then will I think about discontinuing my steady stream of
corruption of the English tongue.
>
> We are currently bashing our way through head winds, head seas, and of
course contrary currents. Our position is the southern end of the Malacca
Straight. The following is an excerpt from a letter written to a friend that
covers most of the passage up to the Komodo Islands from Australia.
>
> OK, I might as well start when we left Australia. That was a story that
stood alone.
> Two days before we planned to leave Darwin, we spent an evening with the
crew of a boat called Interlude. There are three adults onboard and two girls
13 and 14 (almost 15 I think). The girls seemed mildly interested in computer
games so that was where the kid's conversation led.
> The next evening, after a day of getting ready for passage, we were sitting
down to a quiet dinner with the engine running to top up the batteries, when,
the oil pressure sender alarm went off. After a brief inspection of general
areas, water was found in the oil.
> NB: In reference to the sociable evening: when we got back to the boat, three
members of our crew took sea sick medication due to the violent motion as the
boat heaved and swayed at anchor.
> There were two possible analysis:
>(1) The head gasket was blown, thus fresh water from the cooling system would
have gotten into the cylinders and then into the oil.
>-Or-
>(2) All of the heaving had managed to get saltwater up into the mixing elbow by
first filling the water lift muffler and then continuing back into the engine
cylinder and finally into the oil.
> We pumped out all of the oil that night but the real test would come in the
morning. Would the water that settled out of the oil be fresh or salt? My dad
took the pessimistic point of view; that it was probably the head gasket; that
would mean another week in Darwin getting parts and putting everything back
together. Darn, we had just arranged to sail in company with Interlude at least
until Bali.
> After the taste test the following morning, dad wasn't convinced of the
water's salenity. However, mom and I were "fairly sure" that the sample was
salty. So we dried it out in a pot and tasted the residue. It was very salty.
Dad said "maybe."
> After those fun and games, Dad and Ethan went ashore to get several bottles
of cheap oil and order a new head gasket.
> Sorry, I'm getting tired of this topic; I'll make the last bit brief.
>We flushed the engine with about two and a half gallons of oil and then ran it;
the oil was still clear which was a good indication. Meantime, the other boat
was fixing their refrigeration (I hope that wasn't a side issue of waiting for
us). The head gasket would take about a week to get to Darwin and there were
rumors that their availability and pricing were better in Singapore. The other
boat was ready the next day and our crew, deciding to forget about the head
gasket - since ours didn't seem to be leaking and the replacement would wreck
our chance of buddy boating - decided to leave as well.
> Phew...
> Our passage from Darwin to Roti, (An island off of the South West tip of
Timor) was interesting, to put things mildly. Every night, between Midnight and
2:00am (Part of my watch) we passed through fishing fleets. They didn't bother
us and we didn't bother them. It was a little nerve racking though. There were
sometimes a dozen of them and we had to keep track of all of their headings so
as not to be run-down.
> We arrived at Roti with no idea of whether the Interludes had arrived or
were still yet to make landfall since their VHF antenna was particular about
when it choose to work. After about an hour and a couple of chess games, a
sailboat was spotted rounding the point. "Oh Joyous Day, Calloo Callaa" (Quote
from the poem "Jabberwocky" in "Through The Looking Glass.")
> The crew of Interlude immediately went snorkeling. Our family, on the other
hand, didn't go because Dad, Mom, and myself, after a long passage, were the
image of walking dead. After a bit of a recharge that night, another happy
hour, normal buddy-boat relations, we were feeling a little more human.
> The next day both boats moved down to the island's main town called Baa. A
very forgettable town that reminded me of the San Blas islands that had been
exposed to the tourist trade. The streets were narrow and dirty, open sewers
were a normal sight, and there was rapid building development in most places
along the waterfront.
>
>[END OF SECTION]
>
> Ok, that's as much as I can steal from the letter. Now I have to "make it
up as I go along."
>
> We left the following day and headed to the world famous Komodo National
Park.
>
> I think that it would be best to summarize the events that took place in the
Komodo Park as I could make another letter of just those happenings:
>
> We made landfall at Rinca, an island in the SE corner of the Komodo group
around mid morning. After lunch, the crews of both boats went ashore in search
of Dragons. A dusty brownish deer was spotted and lots of deer droppings but no
dragons. Boo Hiss.
> On the following morning, we had a family excursion to a little cove across
the bay. As we approached the beach in our dinghy we spotted some monkeys,
unfortunately they had seen us as well. They scampered up the beach and
disappeared into the brush. We landed and after a short walk, we found a bit of
a deer skeleton, some monkey prints, and some Dragon dung. No dragons again!
> That afternoon we took the big boats across the bay in hopes that we would
be able to see the dragons on the beach in the morning. Our efforts were
rewarded when several dragons came down to the water in the pale light of dawn.
After they had disappeared back into the bushes we upped anchor and headed for
Komodo Island.
> Komodo was a settlement of little shacks paid for by the tourist industry.
The town wasn't very impressive in my opinion. Still, we saw five of the
dragons lounging around the kitchen shack waiting for scraps. (Again, a little
cheesy if you ask me.) After that slight let down, we went on a guided hike and
saw a few dragons in the wild. I didn't feel that the dragons in the wild were
that special so I will not waste any of your time describing them. You can
probably get better descriptions on the web. However, the guide knew an
impressive amount about the wildlife of the area and was able to fill in the
empty silences with lectures about "this lizard" and "that snail."
> We returned to the boats at about midday and again upped anchor. We headed
for a little cove called Red Beach. It was given this name because of the
beaches pinkish color. Ground up red coral that had washed ashore was mixed
with the sand and thus the reddish color.
> Both crews now went snorkeling and were happily rewarded. The snorkeling
was superb! It was the best that we have seen since Fiji. We stayed in as long
as the temperate water would allow and then went over to Interlude again to
socialize.
> From Red Beach, we Island hopped towards Bali seeing much more marine life.
Mom bought a string of baroque pearls for about $10 U.S.! Wow! Then on the
following day, she bought another at the same price! "One's to wear and the
other is to make into earrings," was her explanation. (Right mom!)
> At Lombok, the last major island in the chain before Bali, we were invited
to a local wedding. "Ok," I thought, this might be interesting. Well, the food
was... Very sweat and mostly made of rice. There was a bread like thing, made
of rice, some squishy pink candy, made of rice, and for the main course, a leaf
wrapped around - I bet you've guessed - rice. Oh, and I forgot to mention the
brown substance that was placed before us in a cup. The taste was not
dissimilar to that of molten brown sugar and the color was not dislike that of
tea. We later found out that it was "tea"! I am guessing that the sugar to tea
ratio was along the 50:50 lines!
> The bride and groom's ages were very much different from what we had been
used to in western cultures. The groom was only 16 and the bride... the bride
was only, 14 and pregnant! I only hope that it works out for the new couple
since there is no such thing as a divorce in Islam.
> While we were at Lombok, we also took an all day tour and saw a few things
of the local culture. Here are the highlights:
>
> On our way to the first major sight on the tour, we stopped at "The Monkey
Forest" and feed the little fuzzy monkeys half a large bag of peanuts. It was
great seeing the little primates with their tiny hands deftly popping open the
peanut shells. We could toss them the peanuts one at a time and they would leap
into the air and catch them. Better yet, when holding a peanut just out of
their reach they would first try in vain to grasp it. Then, after glancing
around to make sure there were no, bigger monkeys, waiting to steal it, they
would jump up and grab the peanut right out of your hand.
>
> Our second stop on the tour was a place where the women of the village do
the ceremonial weaving that is called an I-cat. Each cloth is made on a loom
that takes about three months to thread. Then, the cloth grows at the rate of
five centimeters a day until the desired length is achieved. The "women," most
of them only in their mid-teens, work the looms for about 12 hours a day and I
was afraid to ask what their pay is.
> The patterns that this weaving creates are almost all unique. The textile
does not have the standard plaid or reoccurring pattern that is normally found
on loom woven items. Instead, there are sticks tied to certain treads and each
stick pulls a different combination of threads. There are maybe 20 of these
sticks, which can be combined into more than (If my calculations are correct)
2,400,000,000,000,000,000 combinations, or, for the mathematicians among us, 2.4
x 10^18.
>
> Next stop, pottery factory: There were a large number of wares on sight but
not much activity. Two of the women were working small clay vessels but
otherwise the rest of the attention was turned towards painting on glaze, which
actually consisted of a turpentine-based lacquer that is not fired. Oh, and I
forgot the men's involvement: They sit on a shady, upraised, mat and drink
coffee while munching local snack foods.
>
> Well, it's their culture...
>
> Before lunch, we made another stop. This was at the old king's summer
palace. The locals called it "The Water Palace" and rightly so. The main area
was taken up by two large "pools" (one partially natural the other manmade in
its entirety.). The view from the king's main villa looked out on both pools as
well as a little Hindu temple that was set atop a terraced hill. The story
behind the temple on the hill, inside the palace courtyard is as follows:
> When the king was young, he used to climb to the top of the highest mountain
on the island and visit the temple on the summit, once a year.
> This temple was a two-day hike from the bottom of the mountain and, as you
can imagine when the king returned he was quite tired and probably quite sweaty.
Therefore, he had a ritual bath in the natural pool (the man made one wasn't
there yet) followed by a nice relax in his villa.
> As he got older, he no longer had the strength to climb to the summit and
had a temple built in the palace for convenience.
> By the time that we had finish the palace tour, the group was beginning to
feel the pangs of hunger. I suppose you can guess what the next stop was.
>The seven of us piled back into the mini van that served as our tour bus and
headed for a low rent district restaurant.
> Lunch was taken at a fancy (By Lombok standards) restaurant that served the
standard Indonesian fare. The group, excluding the tour guide, bought some
local delicacies like fried noodles and chicken satay. The tour guide on the
other hand, ordered a plate of French-fries and Tomato Sauce (Ketchup). After
the meal, several of us took a dip in the spring feed pool that bordered the
eating area. It was, "Refreshing," to put it warmly.
> We dried off and thawed-out, then headed for the tours final destination:
the wood carving town.
> There were about two blocks of small buildings. That was the entire little
woodcarving town. The shops were dark, dusty, cluttered, and did I mention
dusty? There was so much dust on some of the items that it was almost
impossible to distinguish where the table began and the carving ended. Aside
from having a rather "dusty" time the carving themselves presented a rather,
unspectacular visage. A bit of a disappointment if you ask me. Oh well, after
perhaps a half-hour of perusing, we again piled back into the van and headed
home.
> Actually, the people on the other boat were a little more impressed with the
carved items so our trip back across the islands was made with a bamboo ladder,
and a little, coconut hatted, fisherman.
> No, don't even ask how we fit it all in! I don't want to think about it.
>
>Now,
>Bali...
>
>Let me check my previous letters...
>
>Hmm...
>
>Ah ha!
>
>I found the missing letter that wasn't sent! If you saw my directory, you
would understand that triumphant note.
>
>So, here's "Bali.txt."
>
>To all:
>
>I am sitting hear in Bali, Indonesia. It is a Hindu town so it is relatively
safe from the violence and upheaval. We will skip the Island of Java as that
that is the heart of the Muslim population and there are reports of violence
there. For the most part, we are staying away from the Muslim villages, and
cruising as a fleet (along with the other cruising boats in the area) as a
safeguard.
>
>So, don't worry too much about whether you will have to forgo the agony of
another one of my letters. You have another one to suffer through. Heh, Heh,
Heh.
>
>________
>
>Bali is a pleasant green island set in a rather greenish-blue section of water
to the North and West of Australia. The current crisis in Afghanistan has not
bettered the Muslim's lives here. Instead, it has apparently backfired. An
island rich in the tourist trade before September 11 is now suffering slow
starvation as many governments have warned their citizens not to come here.
While the tourist stay in their home countries feeling Mr. Osama Bin Laden's
Terror. The very people he claims to represent are suffering because of his and
his "close followers" actions.
>
> It is saddening to go anywhere on this island and be mobbed by these poor
people. Always they try to sell trinkets or other souvenirs, never looking for
a hand out. Their very existence rests on the sale of these modest,
handcrafted, resources. They sell these pieces for sometimes a couple of cents
U.S. With no tourist, no money, no Muslims. Tell that to the big Osama Bin
Laden who seems to have declared a war upon his own peoples.
>
>________
>
>[END OF LETTER]
>
> Ok, so you get the idea. We took a tour of Bali and saw the highlights and
almost no other tourist! The highlights of Bali will have to wait for another
time though as the boats motion is making me long for fresh air.
>
>20/11/01
>
> We are currently at anchor part of the way up a river mouth about halfway
through the Malacca straight. Dusk is about a half-hour off. There are huge
container-cargo ships passing about every 15 minutes going up the river to a
massive commercial dock. As we were approaching this spot the large cranes all
lined up and gave the illusion of a giant UFO landed at the loading piers. That
was a little weird but...
>
>22/11/01
>
> Sorry about that but duty called and the GPS (Global Positioning Satellite)
wanted more waypoints.
>
>So, I promised the highlights of Bali? That's going to take some thought.
>
>Again, we booked an all day tour of the "highlights" with the people from
Interlude. Did I mention they had two girls? Well, Ethan and I suddenly wanted
to schedule events with them - parties, tours, etc... - I'm sure you understand.
>
>Anyway, we set off at eight in the morning to see what we could see.
>
>Now, I will apologize at this point for things not necessarily being in
chronological order. I am abysmal at retelling things in their proper order and
I'm afraid that the "cut" and "paste" buttons on this machine are going to
strike for better pay and shorter hours. Regardless, I'll do my best to
remember.
>
>Of the places visited, three places stand out in my mind:
>
>The Elephant temple:
> The temple was situated high up in the mountains and afforded some nice
quite walks through lush greenery. The cool mountain air and the mountainous
environment gave me a longing to be back in Virginia. That and the tranquility
made it easily my favorite place on the whole of Bali.
> There was some old stone work around the temple, some of it symbolic in
Hindu tradition and some of it merely ornate. Some of the stone had been there
long enough to begin to be retaken by the earth and was covered in lichen and
moss.
> All around, I say it again, my favorite place on Bali.
>
>Vendors:
> Next came a bit of culture shock. We stopped at an area renowned for shops.
All looked tranquil and sleepy until... we had left the vehicle, venders came
from every direction. Mom and Dad got cornered and had to make a break for the
vehicle while others of the group, being possessed of wisdom far beyond the
usual allowance, retreated to the van and haggled out of the windows.
> I had a lot of fun since I had no money and said so. The vendors quite
obviously didn't believe me and began lowering prices, sometimes 50% at a time!
Ah, if only I had money, I could have restocked my entire T-shirt wardrobe for
less than ONE DOLLAR US!
>
>Silver:
> Sometime during the day (I can't remember whether it was before or after the
vendors), we visited a silver jewelry factory. It was a small well kept
operation but again, nothing spectacular so I won't mention anymore than the
fact that prices were about 80% of those found Stateside.
>
> After some heavy provisioning, we left Bali with the intent of going
straight to the Singapore area. Our plans were altered underway and we set a
new course for the south end of Borneo along with Interlude.
> Visiting Borneo meant going about 15 miles up a river and anchoring in the
main channel where the logging boats go up and down the river. With this
cheerful thought in mind, we had at fist axed the plan to go there.
Nevertheless, having decided that the risks were outweighed by the gains, we did
stop on our way to Singapore.
> The river was, at best, a river. We had to be constantly on alert while in
transit, looking for floating logs, some of which were bigger than our dingy.
We anchored off the town, cleared with the local officials, and organized a tour
the following day, all on the afternoon we got in. That makes a bit of a busy
day, but no, of course, there is the social gathering to celebrate the end of a
passage. I'll put it this way: when we did get to bed, we slept well.
>
>28/11/01
>
> I promised my dad that I would turn this over to him as an English
assignment when I finished. Now, he is getting impatient and has requested that
I cut this letter short and resume it somewhere else.
> Thus, you will hear about our adventures in Borneo at another time and
place.
>
>Love to all,
>Happy Holiday's
>Aaron