Category Archives: Eric’s Posts

“How to” Filter Diesel & Store for Long Crossings 2018

October 2018

My wife, teenage son, and I are circumnavigating aboard our 42-foot Tayana sailboat Kandu, currently waiting for a replacement freshwater pump for our Yanmar engine in Agadir, Morocco, in preparation for our trip to the Canary Islands. I have some time to pass on some how-to’s we’ve learned over the past 4 years of cruising. Diesel fueling is a frequent chore on our boat.

DIESEL STORAGE: In order to motor distances greater than Kandu’s 500-liter tanks would allow, like when we motored thousands of miles through the pirate zone north of Somalia, and up the Red Sea, to minimize how often we have to go to fuel docks, we’ve loaded Kandu up with 320-liters of cannisters or Gerry jugs. In a Belgian museum, we learned that the term “Gerry jug” comes from WWII US G.I. slang for fuel cannisters modeled after those used by the German military. “Gerry” was slang for a German, thus Gerry jugs.

RECYCLED or REPURPOSED JUGS: In the US, sailors buy their Gerry jugs complete with nozzles, whereas the rest of the world uses alternatives which are free and readily available sans nozzle, converting 20-25 liter heavy duty plastic motor oil, coolant, and/or vegetable oil containers into diesel jugs. In Gibraltar, smugglers loaded with jugs of fuel throw overboard their empty and sometimes full jugs. Each morning, fishermen collect the discarded jugs. That’s how we got our last five 25-liter jugs, from Pepe, a helpful man you got them from a fisherman. The jugs interiors are cleaned with soap and water and then rinsed out with diesel that is discarded to provide a container ready to top up.

Recycled or repurposed gerry jugs

GASKETS: Not designed for re-use, these types of recycled jugs often leak fuel from their caps. The standard third-world solution is to cut squares from recycled plastic bags and screw them on between the cap and the jug, a poor man’s gasket. These gaskets are good for one or two uses before they fall apart and need replacing.

Recycled jugs need plastic bag gaskets

FILTERING: Diesel engines require clean fuel to run properly, free of debris and water. We rarely take fuel directly into our tanks without filtering it through our specifically engineered water fuel filter funnel; diesel is able to pass through the filter’s fine screen but amazingly, water does not. Water molecules are too large and don’t pass through the fine mesh.

Water separator fuel filter

SYPHONING: To migrate the fuel from a Gerry jug into one of our three tanks, we set the jug such that its bottom is above the level of the deck fitting and then use a syphon hose with a chambered glass ball that when shaken gets the syphoning action going without having to suck fuel in with our mouths and risk swallowing and/or breathing it in. An alternative way to get the syphoning action to start is to place a short second hose alongside the syphoning hose with a firmly held (air tight) rag, and blow through it to cause the air pressure to initiate the syphoning action.

Bryce Rigney syphoning and filling diesel tanks from gerry jugs
And lastly, old-school, just dip the hose as far you can into the jug without losing it. Place your thumb firmly over the hose’s opening, and quickly pull the hose out, drawing with it the fuel that filled the hose, releasing your thumb.

So that’s it. That’s how we store and fill our boat’s tanks with diesel.  Hope this proves helpful.

Here is a pdf version of this article: 2018-11-2_Diesel Fill by Eric Rigney

Agadir Marina, Nearby Cities & Marrakesh, Morocco October 2018

This article can also be found on the world cruiser’s Noonsite.com called Morocco: Agadir Marina and nearby cities.

The day before our departure to the Canary Islands, I discovered an  irreparable leak in our engine’s fresh water pump.  It would take more than 2 weeks before our replacement would arrive in hand. Moroccan customs are notoriously painful.  Thus we remained berthed in Agadir Marina for more than 4 weeks, a great place to be “stuck” and here’s why:

Eric working on the water intake pump

Finding it was not immediately obvious when we came into the marina, here’s the entrance waypoint: 30°25.2 North, 9°37.0 West.

We called two days in advance by phone from Mohammedia to insure they had space for our 12.7m monohull (+212 (0) 5 22 79 84 84). They did. Apparently, although they monitor channel 9, they don’t reply. Upon our Friday morning arrival, we hailed the marina on VHF channel 9 with no reply. As we arrived, we were waved toward our berth and assisted in tying off bow first, our preference as we have a windvane. The dock pontoons are low and short. The distance between pontoons is large enough for catamarans. When a heavy swell comes, boats sway with great force.  Chafing gear and extra lines are recommended. The staff does what they can to assist.

Kandu in Marina Agadir

Water (reportedly potable – although we still filter it) and power are included in the slip rental, as well as toilets, a hot shower, and WiFi. Water requires a pipe thread to garden hose adaptor. The meager toilets and shower stalls are locked behind a single door, with the key hidden outside. The toilets (2) are sit down with toilet seats, but bring your own toilet paper. The poorly maintained single shower has enough hot water for one and half showers and is clean enough for those who aren’t particular.

Marina Agadir Shower

Morocco houses Immigration, Customs, and National Police at the marina office, 24/7.  There sole role is to process pleasure craft. I think they hear us hailing, but don’t always reply. Once you’re tied up and settled in, they come immediately to your boat and process you quickly and professionally. We offered them coffee which they seemed to like. They filled their forms, we provided them copies of our ship’s documents, and they took our passports to be stamped and returned 1-2 hours later. They asked for a blue customs form from Mohammedia, which we never received. They accepted our explanation without issue.

Agadir Marina Rates 2018

Speaking French helps, but English is fine.  Note: they asked if we had a drone. If we did, they would have held it in their office until our departure. There were no charges for processing.

Checking into the marina office was casual. Check out is the same.  They want to see your ship’s document for measurements. Their credit card machine doesn’t usually work, so be prepared to pay cash when you plan to leave. An ATM nearby usually works, but other ATMs are not far away. Make sure your statement reads “Paid in Full” to eliminate any potential misunderstandings. Let officials know when you plan to leave, at least 12 hours ahead, or the night before if you wish to leave early. They do break for lunch and they do have shifts, so best not to wait until the last hour to check out. Note: the marina office is closed on weekends and holidays, but you can pre-pay your slip fees. They are very accommodating.

Marina Agadir office

Security is excellent, 24/7. The common gate leading to the pontoons is not locked, but closely monitored. We left our boat to travel to Essaouira and Marrakesh. The free WiFi in and around the office is adequate for basic needs, including phone and video chats. We were able to slowly upload short videos and handle all Facebook and internet needs for communication back home.  For decent phone and data service, go to Telecom Maroc and buy a sim for 20 MAD. Once you have your sim, head over to a local tabac or convenient store to top up on phone and data service…50 MAD buys you 5 gigs of data.

Maroc Telecom Sim

A nearby fuel dock offers diesel, gasoline, and cooking gas at normal local gas station rates.  We gravity fed our own propane tanks at the station’s boat yard using our own adaptors.

Gravity Propane Re-Fill

Here is an instructional video we made while hanging out at the marina on the subject:

Light provisions can be found close to the marina, but a 20-minute walk there and a 20-40 MAD (Moroccan dirham) taxi ride back from Carrefour and/or Uniprix, or from the main Souk (closed Mondays) is worth the time and incidental cost. Marjane is a super modern supermarket near Mr. Bricolage (Home Depot), accessible by the #98 bus (3.5 MAD pp, one way) discussed in more detail later.  Car rental agencies occupy one block near the marina (we liked Lotus), or the marina can arrange one (we did this too). We paid about $33/day for a 4-seater small diesel car. When we first took possession of the car, it had almost no fuel, so our first stop was the station to top it up. Parking on the street or in a lot where there are attendants is normally 2-5 MAD, not 10! Apparently, some insurance is automatically included within the rental rate. Good thing as we were broken into (small back passenger window) while parked at a beach. Nothing was stolen, but insurance covered half the window replacement; we paid US$70. The window was replaced in a couple hours.

Rental car with back passenger window broken

If you need any assistance buying parts, getting supplies, or with repairs, Youssef Ajewher, a kind local yacht service person and former merchant ship engineer, working privately at Marina Agadir would be glad to assist you. He helped us with many issues, including medical, getting recommendations, driving us around, bargaining and translating for us. He even knows where to dine. Having him care for us was a great relief and time saver. He accepts whatever you think his services are worth. If it were a simple errand, we paid him a little more than twice what a round trip taxi would cost because he knew where to go, who to talk to, and how much to pay. Sometimes, he spent nearly the whole day when we had a medical issue, making sure we knew what was what, and advocating for us. Obviously, we paid him more when he spent so much time, and he was grateful. I love that guy! Youssef Ajewher, +212 (0) 6 77 45 68 87, email: aj************@gm***.com

Youssef Ajewehr

Agadir is a great place to visit and an excellent base from which to visit, Paradise Valley, Essaouira, and Marrakesh. We enjoy the sights, sounds, and scents of Moroccan souks (open marketplaces). Agadir’s souk is huge. Be sure to explore the nooks and crannies. Again – note that the Agadir Souk is closed on Mondays! Spices, olives, dates, almonds, walnuts, fruits and vegetables, butchers, bakers, souvenirs, electronics, cleaning supplies, clothing, it’s all there. The freshly peeled prickly pear cactus fruits are fun and wonderfully sweet and tasty. Expect to bargain, and even then, to pay more than a local. Bargaining is not our strength. Inside Agadir’s souk are wonderful micro cafés with inexpensive and delicious Moroccan dishes. Don’t be afraid to try out a café or two. On Fridays, couscous is served with vegetables, chicken, or beef. A portion serves enough for two and chicken couscous is 20MAD ($2.20 USD) which comes with additional sauce/broth. I recommend getting the bag of sour milk, a sort of buttermilk that marries perfectly with the couscous if your stomach handles dairy. They serve the milk with a bowl of plain couscous to mix with into a paste as an additional separate treat. I tend to leave an extra 5MAD as a tip. To get to the souk from the marina, walk awhile or take a taxi for about 30 MAD, or take a bus for about 4 MAD each.

Agadir city map 2018, Morocco

Another souk a bit further away from town central, more rustic and active than Agadir’s, can be found in the town immediately south of Agadir at the end of the #98 Bus. Catch the bus just north of the marina (just north of the large round about by the fish market) and take the 98 bus to its terminus. It’s also your bus back. As you exit the bus, facing in the same direction as the bus, walk a few blocks further up and to your right. Ask around for the souk or “marche.”

Agadir Wholesale souk

This part of town survived the 1960 earthquake and its souk feeds the south of Morocco, selling mostly in bulk and wholesale. Chickens, turkeys, goats, cows, and camels are slaughtered between 5-8 a.m. The whole thing is an extraordinary experience sending you back in time.

Promenade Agadir Beachfront

Our favorite Agadir promenade restaurant is Herguita (aka Hurguita), a little place located just south of the La Coupole restaurant.  It’s a wonderful stroll alongside locals and tourists. The Herguita breakfast and lunch/dinner combos can’t be beat for price, taste, service, and location. Breakfast of fresh squeeze orange juice, café au lait, Moroccan pastries is 20MAD. A two-egg a la carte cheese omelet is 16MAD. One lunch/dinner menu: soup or salad, brochettes or tajine, ice cream or mint tea for 60 MAD ($6.60) serves two of us. The avocado-date-milk drink is Bryce and my favorite Moroccan smoothie type drink.

RigneysKandu at Hergita Agadir Promenade Restaurant

Take a taxi before sunset up to the Kasbah overlooking Agadir for a wonderful view. They offer camel rides up there too, but we just took in the view of twinkling lights coming to life.

Through travel agency ‘AdmireMorocco’ located on the Agadir promenade relatively close the marina, we booked a local sand dune sand boarding trip located near Tamri (north of Taghazout right on the coastline) that included a traditional tajine lunch in the home of a Berber family; the three of us loved it.

One bummer about Marina Agadir is its proximity to the sardine fish packing plant just north. The smell and occasional dead fish floating around your boat can be a bit much for some. It doesn’t bother me, but then I don’t shower enough to notice.

PARADISE VALLEY is less than an hour’s drive from the marina.  We rented a car.  Don’t be fooled by the first beautiful stream-side date tree orchard with a Paradise Valley sign.  Continue to take the ‘highway’ (currently under construction) much further into the valley, hugging the majestic sedimentary rock wall faces, layers of rock resembling pages from an enormous geological book.  Keep going until you come to a ‘parking lot’ from where you can hike up, then down into the quaint picturesque valley.  Little “resto’s” are everywhere along the 2-3 km trail, ready to serve you fresh juice or even a tajine lunch.

ESSAOUIRA is a picturesque well-kept old fortified seaport that can be a day visit from Agadir. Two and half-hours by car, buses are a likely option as well since the old town is small enough to tour entirely on foot. The excellent wood crafting is not to miss.

Essaouira City Map 2018
Eric Rigney ready to get’em w/ his new antique Moroccan knife.
Moroccan post office parking lot

For MARRAKESH, reserve seats on a CTM or similar bus for 200MAD round trip per person. Take a red-colored taxi from the marina for 40 MAD to the Gare Routier (bus station). I don’t know how often a bus fills up, but tickets can be purchased in advance and paid with by credit card at the Agadir station.

CTM inner city Moroccan bus

The bus is very comfortable but no onboard toilet. The bus makes one toilet stop. Note: 2MAD is the standard fee for a toilet visit. It’s about 80MAD (maybe less) by taxi from the Marrakesh Gare Routier to the center of the old town. I recommend pre-booking a Riad in old Marrakesh (bed’n breakfast type accommodation). They are inexpensive, private Moroccan/exotic guest homes designed with a garden patio in the center, centrally located within walking distance of nearly everything, and include a delicious breakfast. Some have pools; all have roof top terraces. The beds are often hard and our room’s shower didn’t have hot water (no morning coffee required!), but we only paid $40/night for three adults at Riad Chennaoui. We booked the night before through Booking.com.

Riad Chennaoui

Two to three nights should be adequate time to enjoy most of Marrakesh, but there’s no rush either. A guidebook like Lonely Planet is all you need. Not necessary to hire a guide.

Moroccan pottery

JAMAA EL-FNA – In Marrakesh’s main square called Jemaa el-fna, we found a food tent, #31, serving only Moroccans. We ate there twice. The Café Glacier rooftop is the best way to experience the square as the sun sets; great photo ops, day and night. From there, you can enjoy the street performers (snake charmers, African drummers, acrobats) without their aggressive demands for money. Some sailors found Marrakesh to be an aggressive, overly populated, tourist trap. We avoided traveling there on the weekend and found it to be a treasure worthy of its worldly acclaim.

SURFING: And the main reason why we came to Agadir was for the local Atlantic surfing scene. There are several spots north and south of Agadir that are good. A 20-minute bus ride (just 7 MAD) north from Agadir on either L31, L32, or L33 is a favorite spot due to the nice accommodations at Richie’s Cafe located at K11 on the beach front route just south of Aourir and Banana Beach. It’s generally a beginner wave, but fun when Anchor’s Point, further north off Taghazout is not pumping. Taghazout is a surfer hangout surrounded by up-and-coming tourist resorts. Even more north just south of Tamri village is Boiler’s Spot where a big ship’s boiler can be found rusting in the wave break. It is a more intermediate to advanced break where Bryce had a great time when the swell was strong. Wetsuits starting in October are generally used.

Some things we didn’t do that sounded like fun:

1) Fez, just too far for us even from Mohammedia.

2) Book a camel trip to a desert Bedouin tent adventure. Sounds great, but we did camels in Egypt, and everything we were finding here was a bit too expensive for us. Those who did it, loved it.

3) There’s also a renowned film studio, but it’s a bit of drive from Agadir. Ouarzazate is the most famous where Lawrence of Araba was filmed and more recently: The Sheltering Sky, Last Temptation of Christ, Alexander, Gladiator, Black Hawk Down, Kingdom of Heaven and Prometheus to name a few.

Whether planned or not, an extended stay in Agadir proved of great value to us.  Hope our insights help you get more out of this friendly corner of Morocco.

Eric Rigney

Mohammedia Docking, Clearance & Casablanca Sights Sept 2018

An extended versions of this report for cruisers is available on www.noonsite.com. Follow this link: Morocco-mohammedia-report of visit in october-november 2018

September 17, 2018

Unable to reach the Yacht Club du Maroc, a private enterprise, prior to departure, we set sail from Gibraltar in hopes a space would be available.  A forecasted large NW swell had us forego the shallow entrance of Rabat, and Casablanca has no facilities for receiving yachts.  Upon our morning approach, Port Control Mohammedia responded to our VHF call on 16.  We were instructed to enter the port and head directly to the marina where someone would point us to a berth.  Warned in reports of underwater obstructions near the marina, we arrived at high tide. The private marina resides tucked away in the corner of the commercial and fishing port. Seeing no one of authority, we stayed just off the marina’s two large pontoons, toward the commercial portion of the port rather than the likely shallower small fishing port.

Kandu waiting to be welcomed to Yacht Club du Maroc in Mohammedia

Within 10 minutes, an official looking person with collared shirt and long pants, holding a handheld VHF guided us to raft up alongside one of two possible boats, the choice was ours.  They have limited space for visiting yachts.  Looking at our depth sounder during our maneuvering into place, the depths were more than adequate, never below 18 feet.  The official, who we never saw again, asked us to drop an anchor which I said I would do later, but intending only to stay for 2 nights, with no bad weather forecast, we did not.

All officials came to us within an hour or so, boarded our boat, and processed us politely and professionally in English and French, . . . no “gifts” asked, none given.  Leslie offered coffee, which they gratefully received. No charge for clearance. They took our passports for an hour to process, stamp, and return them to us with shore passes (as we were in a commercial port with high security), and held on to the ship’s original documentation to insure we checked out properly.  Check out was as simple and painless after 9 a.m., presenting our passports.  Taking only 15 minutes, we had our exit stamped passports and original ship’s document. Agadir officials said we should have received a blue paper from Customs, but did not belabor the point with us.

The YC charges two fees, theirs and the port’s.  Warned of the high price and that they charge per day, not per night, I was mentally prepared to see a high bill.  Accepting only cash, up front, the YC manager was pleased I had made the effort to have Moroccan dirham on hand, having exchanged in Gibraltar before our arrival.  He charged us for two nights, not three days.  Perhaps because we planned to leave at the same time that we’d had arrived.  The two-night YC charge was slightly higher than the port charge, but for a 12.7m monohull, the charges were about 500 dirham each, 1000 total, or $55/night.  Price includes 220 power and potable (we don’t trust) water, separate men and women’s toilets and hot showers (clean and adequate), excellent security, trash, access to their restaurant across the port, and weak to non-existing WiFi.  Our pontoon was for larger boats and was shared by mostly sports-fishing boats. While there are smaller local cafés nearby, to get to the center of town, a 10-dirham taxi ride makes it easy.  ATM’s are common.  We used the ATAM at the train station and purchased via cash our tickets through the ticketing vending machine.  We hopped aboard the frequent (±every 30-minutes) half-hour train to Casablanca (showing up at least 15 minutes late), costing 32-dirham R/T, and walked 20-minutes to the Hassan II mosque, taking the 100 dirham English-speaking tour, by far the best and most worthy experience we had in our short stay in Casablanca.

Hassan II Mosque, Casablanca, Morocco with Bryce Rigney
Moroccan art at it’s very best: Hassan II Mosque of Casablanca with Eric Rigney

Rick’s Café Americain was charming and elegant, although more expensive than we’re use to paying (4x the cost of the normal hole-in-the-wall places we frequent), very delicious, and the portions are large enough to share between two (wished we had known earlier).  As with most all less technologically developed cultures, non-written prices must be negotiated before you engage in buying open market food items, but especially with taxis, where you might pay as much as 3 times the going rate.  In perspective, sometimes that means paying $3 instead of $1, but it can also mean paying $50 instead of $20.

SIM cards are an excellent deal in Morocco, 20 dirham ($2.25) for the Maroc Telecom SIM which allows you some limited calling then you add separately a top-up at a tobacco/convenience store to acquire data or more phone. 10 dirham per 1 GB data. Valid for 30 days. We bought 50 dirham worth (about $5.50). SIMs are purchased at a Maroc Telecom or other brand store.

Maroc Telecom Sim

In summary, Mohammedia is a friendly, efficient, and secure place to berth if Casablanca is on your must-see list.  Reportedly, the most populous Moroccan city, except for the Hassan II Mosque and the train station, we found this historic city to be unattractive.  The old colonial architecture described in tour guides is not maintained and disappointing to behold. To be fair, we did not pay for a guided tour, nor did we have a local showing us the charm of what may otherwise be a very lovely place.  Bryce did get to surf at Florida Beach, but even that experience was just okay.  Eric Rigney

Dar Bouazza / Florida Beach, Morocco, Sept 2018
Dar Bouazza / Florida Beach Morocco Sept 2018

Leslie’s brief Facebook excerpt:

Casa Blanca on the ocean claims to be the largest city in Morocco. But not having a yacht marina directly in Casa Blanca, we headed instead to port Mohammedia 10 kilometers north from the city. From Gibraltar we left with perfect wind and tide circumstances hopping the Gibraltar straights shipping lanes to the south like a rabbit to avoid the big tanker traffic. With Kandu docked in Mohammedia, we took advantage of the inexpensive train and taxis to see the sights in Casa Blanca. We visited Dar Bouazza Beach for some long overdue surf and the renowned Rick’s Cafe for excellent 1920’s art deco ambience and delicious Moroccan couscous.

We were spellbound by the most impressive architecture found in the large and beautiful Hassan II Mosque (inside and out as they allow non-muslim visitors to tour the interior for US$11/person). We also walked the city to visit the acclaimed business city center, local souk and the famous Rialto Cinema…all of which were underwhelming. Not a beautiful or romantic resort town, two days was plenty. Sadly, most of the city was run-down and dirty…with hopeful construction everywhere especially on the beachfront which was completely torn up and off-limits except on the outskirts like Dar Bouazza / Florida Beach.

 

Estimators, One and All by Eric Rigney

September 11, 2018

Gibraltar City, Gibraltar

One reason I travel is to learn more about us, the people who inhabit this planet.  Recently, here in Gibraltar, an understanding hit me . . . epiphany?

Geographically, Gibraltar is a small place with a population of 32,000. An overseas protectorate of the United Kingdom since 1967, the culture is very mixed; Maltese, Moroccan, Spanish, English, Christian, Jewish, Muslim, something like 61 different cultures in total.  Additionally, a labor force of 12,000 Spanish cross the border each day to work in Gibraltar and 1,000 to 6,000 cruise ship passengers make their way through the streets and sights of the famous “Rock,” returning to their ship each evening. During our stay, Gibraltar held its week-long annual end-of-summer family fair; Ferris wheel, bumper cars, ice cream, churros, beer garden, loud music; you get the picture. At the fair, our son Bryce was doing his thing, trying to meet pretty girls and cool dudes. Just as with other European countries, Bryce thought he’d have no problem meeting young people, especially with English being their primary language. Much to his disappointment he discovered the youth were socially closed off, disinterested in making new associations. “Why?” we wondered.

Gibraltar City with Spain in the background

Surrounded by, but cut off politically from Spain and Morocco, far from Britain, under such unique circumstances, Gibraltar seems to have cultivated a particular breed of isolationist village-type mentality, manifested and simmered over a thousand years of various occupations and waves of immigration. They’ve their own language, Llanito a type of ‘Spanglish,’ Spanish with sprinkles of English. The unusual circumstance of the community thus makes it hyper-confined. Anything a member of the community says or does travels through the gossip channels as fast or faster than any technical version of social media. What is said among fellow villagers matters. When for instance, a young girl was seen talking with Bryce, her phone rang constantly. “Why are you with that guy?” It’s made clear: “He’s not one of us.” To be seen spending time with Bryce, a visitor, places the young lady’s reputation in possible question. Guys are equally as brief and dismissive of Bryce’s attempts to connect. This is an unusual circumstance for us. Visiting country after country, an average of two countries per month for the past year, we’ve learned that lifetime friendships can sometimes be forged within days. People who don’t travel much may not appreciate just how quickly and frequently this occurs. At the same time, we’ve learned that, when it comes to preferences as to which people most people wish to associate, people are simple: they prefer to engage with people just like themselves.

Bumper cars at the Gibraltar fairground

Bryce’s Gibraltar experience sparked broader impressions within me. Obviously the more someone is like us, the easier it is for us to receive them. The more unique a group, the more narrowly it is defined, thus allowing for fewer options for developing associations and/or friendships and the possibility of changing their minds, something they don’t really wish to have happen anyway. On the other hand, any possible differentiation that can be discerned naturally gives us pause, a cause to guard and nurture what is ‘us.’ The distinction can be obvious, like skin color, age, sex, sexual orientation, style of dress, weight, the way a person walks, shakes hands, a visible handicap, the vehicle a person drives. It can be less obvious: religion, geographic coordinates, socio-economic class, occupation, food, culture, language, education, etc. Within each of these categories, there are subcategories, for example: education. We differentiate whether one is a high school grad, the school attended, public or private, foreign or domestic? Did they attend college? Which degree? Degree level? Which college? Ivy league? Which one? Fraternity/sorority? Sports? Scholarships? It goes on and on. And to what end do we differentiate others? What greater good is served by cultural confinement? Survival of our offspring? Of our clan? Could it be simply a case of “I want ‘my’ people to thrive, let the others worry about ‘their’ people?” Is this why humans migrated from Africa, into Europe, Asia, South Pacific, and North and South Americas, to get away from the ‘others’ that prevent ‘us’ from thriving? “To heck with you, I’ll find my own hunting grounds!” . . . I wonder.

While I was in college (American, west coast, California, Southern California, San Fernando Valley, public, Cal State University, not UC, no fraternity, graduate degree, mass communication (not law, MBA, medicine, etc.)), a professor described a study that had participants estimating the number of dots flashed from a projector on a wall. The participants were then isolated into two groups, over-estimators and under-estimators. Unbeknownst to the participants, the purpose of the study was to observe how people would compare their group to the other group, solely on the basis of how many dots they thought they saw. Guess what? Each group could be heard extolling the virtues of being like them and the drawbacks of being like the others. Dots . . . something as simple and benign as estimating dots is enough to create an ‘us’ and a ‘them.’

Sailing around the world, except for the occasional trip to McDonalds, we intentionally cast aside our natural tendencies to seek cultural experiences similar to our own and instead actively pursue immersion within other groups. The less something is to what we’re accustomed to, the more excitedly we pursue it. This approach allows us to meet many wonderful people, briefly experience their way of life, their perceptions; thus, opening-up our perception of the world and/or re-enforcing that which we held. More often than not, we find kind, generous, hospitable people. Mutual respect and admiration (love) seem to melt away otherwise persistent barriers. Likely, those individuals with whom we come to form friendships share a similar type of curiosity and willingness to stretch beyond their comfort zones as well. This exchange can sometimes be made easier among the youth who, through music, movies, and attire trends, share a global ‘teenage’ culture. That’s in part why the experience in Gibraltar was unusual. As with most kids across oceans, and especially Europe, the Gibraltarian youth listen to the same music, dress the same way, speak mostly the same language, do the same things, but yet would not readily open themselves to conversing with a foreigner. Not all “Gibs,” as they call themselves, behave in this manner. As disappointing as the youth experience was for Bryce, I met mostly kind, helpful, and generous middle-aged Gibraltarians. So maybe in Gibraltar it’s a generational thing?  Difficult to know. Maybe Bryce for the first time stumbled into a group of teenagers representative of the average Western teenager: “yeah,” “maybe,” “sure,” “I don’t know.”

As much as closed-societies are disappointing, more troubling are cultures whose mission, in part or in whole, entail the termination of the “other,” non-identical culture. The multitude and quality of positive cultural interactions personally afforded us these past 4 years make the knowledge – that groups exists to destroy the “other” – more intolerable. Take the category of religion for example: history depicts many examples of one religious group trying to exterminate another. To the extreme, Islam requires Muslim societies to force non-Muslims (kaffirs) to either convert to Islam, be enslaved to serve Islam, or be killed. Furthermore, as with other religions, Islam splits into different versions of the faith. Within the different Islamic versions, the difference leads to death and destruction between them. These are just religious examples. Similar lines can be drawn economically, politically, and obviously between races.

In the USA, as with any nation, we find many opportunities to discriminate against “others.” Skin color is an easy one, pick a color, any color, it’s all the same if they’re not your color, your exact color to be precise. Within color groups there’s discrimination (differentiation). Yellow: Among the different ethnic Chinese groups, they might discriminate based on pale versus darker skin tones, freckles vs. clear complexion, eye shape, nose shape, etc. White: How white, red-headed freckled white, Anglo-white, blond blue-eyed, Mediterranean bronze, brunette brown eyed? What’s white? Black: Within their group, African-Americans distinguish how black or less black an African-American is. Traveling around the world, we’ve had the opportunity to observe that dark colored skin isn’t exclusively African and that not all “Africans” are black-skinned. Arabs and Berbers inhabit nearly all of North Africa. Pacific Islander Melanesians share the same features as peoples from central and south Africa; skin color, wooly black hair, broad noses, etc. Should geographic ancestry play a role in establishing skin color, another layer, another dividing line? Besides, genetically speaking, aren’t we all from Tanzania . . . Adli and Eidi, not Adam and Eve?

Marquesan fisherman
Fijian farmer
Vanuatuan land-diver
Egyptian merchant

Skin color and religion aside, globally today no other groups are belittled or marginalized more than women and homosexuals. By limiting half of one’s population, does society not limit half its potential? While women are typically relegated to a lesser societal position at best, or subjugated and/or murdered at worst, homosexuality is treated as an incurable contagion/psychological or genetic defect. In Sudan as in much of Africa, parts of the Middle East, India and Southeast Asia, we read that many to most young women have been circumcised and some received clitorectomies, a mostly Islamic practice that Judeo-Christian nations deem as reprehensible female genital mutilation. In New Delhi, India, Hindus are known to set brides ablaze for not satisfying the dowry demands of her husband; contrasted by the Baha’i Lotus Temple’s prominently displayed poster of a large man seated at one side of a balancing-scale in perfect alignment with a small woman seated on the opposite side of the scale, indicating that in the Baha’i faith, women are regarded as equal to men, possibly the only international religion to hold such a perspective. Yet, when asked about their view on homosexuality, the young Baha’i volunteer explained that they have much compassion for people afflicted with this “illness” and hope for a cure someday soon, a view shared by many cultures around the world. “Nothing wrong with being a homosexual. It’s only a sin to engage in a homosexual act,” Christian friends explain. In Sumatra, Indonesia, they cane homosexuals, as if to beat it out of them. Learning how women and homosexuals are treated around the world, it makes visible how far Western cultures have come, and are coming, to accept and protect “them.”

The list of us-vs-them categories is extensive. But I find myself in a dilemma. Is it hypocritical to hate haters? To be intolerant of intolerance? Does that make me just like “them,” because I “know” “my” side is right . . . truly right . . . right?

Ok, so what have I learned. People make us a “them” for any and all reasons, large and small. I have learned that if I want to get beyond these natural tendencies, theirs and mine; if I want to navigate more freely within “their” culture, it’s easier if I honestly modify what I can to match their cultural tastes: dress like them, talk like them, love their children, make some of their problems mine, watch their sports, listen to their music, eat their food, visit their places of worship, go to their schools, participate in their charities, hang at their clubs, visit often their neighborhoods, in general, show genuine interest in their culture. I can’t change my age, sex, height or skin color, but I can otherwise respectfully play the role of [insert cultural group here] to the best of my ability, without lying or betraying my core self. It’s not perfect, but it’s the best I can do if I want to move more freely in their village and gain the benefit of their different perspectives, their “spice” on life, thus opening further my horizons. Experience teaches that often the better flavors are generated where cultural fusion occurs. I’m told the most nutritious part of an entire carrot is the small purplish line that borders between the flesh of the orange root and the base of the green stems. Likewise, I think where two cultures honestly and respectfully meet is where the healthiest humanitarian perspectives develop. Or, we can continue to be “us,” unadulterated, full strength, “what you see is what you get, take it or leave it (or die?).” And guess what? “Our” people will love us for it, cheer us on. But before we get too proud, we might wish to ponder one simple question: Are we over-estimators or under-estimators?

Sailing around the world from port to port in our little sailboat Kandu, it’s obvious: one race, one planet, one time.

Eric Rigney on Easter Island
Eric Rigney in Bali, Indonesia
Eric Rigney in Egypt
Eric Rigney in Gibraltar

Across the Tale…poem by Eric Rigney

Across the sea, I chose to sail. No life of ease . . .

a soulful tale.

Plans were laid, efforts then spent. Pathways will fade,

without relent.

Waves of resistance, waves of assistance, same wave . . .

different approach.

Comfort is gone, lessons are learned. Brain’s turned on,

much feels earned.

Faults are found, strengths are too. Change profound . . .

when both collude.

Faced with choices, purpose defined. Soul rejoices . . .

when goals refine.

Risk is a mirror, few wish to see. Confront the fear,

or live it eternally.

Joy uncovered, doubts aside. Love discovered,

when love’s inside.

Choose to stay, choose to go. Which is best,

I cannot know.

Eric Rigney in India 2018

Across the sea, I thus have sailed. My mind at ease . . .

I’ve lived my tale.

Delorme LogNotes: Singapore Waters, Oct 2017

Singapore Police boat

Oct 24 2017 – Our arrival in Johor, Malayasia, Puteri Harbor  was “aided” by Singaporean Police. Illegally entering their sea space to avoid world’s most active shipping lanes, Police intercepted Kandu in their maritime parking lot, as we were weaving our way btwn anchored ships in a squall, lightning included. After checking our paperwork & hearing our explanation & apologies, they kindly offered to escort us all the way to our Malaysian marina destination (instead of fining us or worse), to insure our safe arrival. 2 hrs & 4 police boat hand-off’s (blue lights flashing) later, we arrived. No ships messed with us…. Thank you, Singapore!
Best stupid thing I’ve ever done.

Suakin, Sudan in April 2018 by Eric

This article is also posted on the World Cruiser’s Noonsite website under Soaking in Sudan.

April 8, 2018

Before leaving Massawa, Eritrea, I emailed Mohammed Abubaker, Port Suakin’s wonderful yacht service agent, via inReach SE satellite text of our pending arrival. He had arranged a tourist visa, hotel, and transportation for my brother Nick Rigney who flew into Port Sudan from U.S. to join us. No commercial carrier offered flights to Khartoum, where visas are more expensive/complicated and U.S. State Dept considers the city a Level 3 security risk.

Kandu motoring into Port Suakin, Sudan. The ruins of Suakin Island as a backdrop.
Mohammed Abubaker awaiting Kandu’s arrival.

Hailed Suakin Port Control on VHF Ch16 and 14 an hour before arrival. Not until 06h30 when we were almost at the entrance did we get a response, which after answering the standard questions (port of registry, size of yacht, number of crew and nationality, etc.), came immediate port entry permission and a kind welcome. Once well within the channel, we hugged the ruined city of Suakin Island to avoid the shoals of the channel’s opposite (western) side. Nearing the end of the season, we were the only sailing yacht except for an unmanned yacht anchored and covered in Red Sea dust. We anchored just south of the island, before the fishing skiffs, in about 20’: good holding on mud bottom. We were so guarded from swell that below deck, I thought we were in a well-protected marina.

Mohammed Abubakar and Eric Rigney clearing customs and immigration in Kandu’s cockpit.

Per my most recent email arrival estimate, the friendly Mr. Mohammed Abubaker (mo****************@gm***.com) was there to greet us, fresh local bread in hand. His English is excellent. He’s tall, handsome, cheerful, and has a deep bass voice, features worthy of a character-actor movie career. His white fiberglass panga/skiff served as our dinghy dock, from which he boarded our dinghy to our yacht, and efficiently collected our documents:

  • 1 passport picture per person for the shore pass
  • 1 passport photocopy per person
  • 1 crew list

Charge for clearing the four of us in, including his commission, $220 USD.

He returned with our shore passes within a couple hours. Additionally we requested 600 liters of diesel (US$0.70 per liter delivered to shore in our gerry jugs), 2 10GB data SIM cards (US$15 ea), and to exchange US$140 (25 Sudanese pounds to the USD, an excellent exchange rate with the understanding that he’d buy back what we didn’t use). Our diesel jugs returned full within 3-4 hrs. Mohammad lent us his portable WiFi hotspot device gratis, so we could spread decent Internet joy among the crew installing one of the 2 SIM cards into the hotspot. (We hadn’t had Internet since leaving India, as Eritrea doesn’t really have anything useable).

Suakin Island ruins. After 100 years of no maintenance, the coral block buildings fell apart.

Visiting the Ruins of Suakin costs 10 Sudanese pounds per person (US$0.40) for an all day pass. Each time we walked around, we bumped into a friendly local authority ready to describe the ruins in his best English; very kind. After visiting the local museum a few days later, a short taxi or motorized rickshaw drive away, we had greater appreciation for what we were seeing, how old the site was and how quickly it fell apart.

That evening, Mohammed drove us in his worn four-door Mercedes to an excellent local herb-grilled chicken restaurant. Reading how traditional Muslim Sudan is, whenever ashore, Leslie opted to wear her full body Muslim dress and head scarf so as not to draw too much added glares against herself and the family in general. We saw many more men than women out at night (women made up only about 5% of those out after dark). Our tab for the delicious dinner of 4 chicken halves, 3 bean plates, fresh bread, 5 small water bottles and 2 Cokes was $14 total. No flatware or napkins, yet all food establishments have set up a water can with working spiget and a bar of soap to wash before and after. Air dry always.

Eric Rigney, Mohammed Abubakar, Nick Rigney at Port Suakin in front of Mohammed’s car.
BBQ Chicken Restaurant in the adjacent village.

Mr. Mohammed answered all our questions and solved all our visiting requests. He was our dream official and guide. He drove us to the open market for fruits and vegetable provisioning, as well as shops that sold UHT boxed milk, pasta, and canned goods. He then drove our provisions and us back to the “dinghy dock.”

Leslie wheeling and dealing the local Sudanese merchants for quality produce.

He found a replacement 30l gerry jug for one of ours which its lid no longer held tight. And he arranged a taxi fellow in Port Sudan to act as a city tour guide (Mr. Gafar’s English not so good, so he called Mohammed to clarify whenever necessary. It worked fine). We took a 1hr public bus from Suakin to Port Sudan (US$1/pp). Mr Gafar met up with us and drove us around the port, took us to a fish market, to a wonderfully rustic restaurant for grilled lamb, and an open market for more fruits and vegetables, (we didn’t know how to ask to see the handicrafts bazaar), and drove us back to Suakin Island. There, he took us to the museum and to an awesome local bazaar to buy smaller aluminum jebbanas for serving Sudanese coffee. Total cost for driving us all around: $20.

Leslie and the boys decided to relax on the boat, while my brother, Nick and I went ashore to find some local dinner adventure. We stumbled across a small popular shack serving among other items a traditional bean dish, sprinkled with cheese, topped with fresh chopped tomatoes, onions, and greens, as well as a medium spicy oil sauce. They called it the “special.” Served with the local leavened pita-like bread, we dug into it with relish tearing pieces of bread to dip like tortilla chips at home and drinking small glasses of hot, sweet mint tea. Total cost for two, including 2 teas each: US$2. Note: I’ve been traveling awhile in ancient-culture nations, so I’m perfectly ok to eat with my hands, no flatware, communal plates, bread tossed on a rickety table, flies everywhere, goats, donkeys, etc. Tourists love it, tolerate it, or hate it. I happen to love it . . . a lot. The locals watch us with curiosity and esteem when we partake in their ways.

Early the next morning, Nick and I went to a flimsy blue coffee shack Mohammed recommended, and enjoyed strong ginger-flavored Turkish-style coffee served from a small aluminum jebbana, complete with a filter of dried grass stuffed in the jebbana’s spout. The ceramic shot glasses were half filled with granulated sugar. We spoke in informal international hand language. Flies, goats, donkeys, cats, hawks, local stares, dirt floors, rickety old timber construction, table about to fall down? . . . Loved it!!!

Clearing out with Mohammed was equally as simple. The cost was low, don’t remember because the 30l jug filled with diesel was included in the over all price. Another boat arrived, a French charter captain who’s sailed this part of the world for 14 years. Mohammed highly recommended we speak with Captain Jack. Jack gave us advice that we are exercising:

  • On the way to Egypt, stop at Sanganeb Reef & lighthouse to snorkel, buy a T-Shirt (US$15 ea. supports the workers), and tour the lighthouse. Per the Red Sea Pilot Guide, we just tied up to the lighthouse pier’s bollard for a couple hours as the current and wind gently kept the boat off the pier. We did all that Captain Jack suggested, enjoyed the pristine beauty and then easily untied and took off. Wonderful experience, super friendly people.
  • Check into Port Ghalib, cheaper, faster, and friendlier. Make arrangements with one of the two Egyptian Suez Canal agents before proceeding. Visit Luxor.
  • Skip Hurghada where a new bureaucrat charges boats a lot to check in again and all other costs are high.
  • Check/clear out of Port Suez after visiting the pyramids.
  • Stop in Ismailia, required anyway, and visit the wonderful yacht club but don’t leave it to go further ashore as we would have already cleared out of Egypt from Port Suez. Stay until the weather is good, but hopefully spend a couple days at the club: laundry, showers, etc. Hire a pilot.
  • Drop the pilot off in Port Said, but for the sake of your boat, sanity, and wallet (damage due to ship’s wake, clearing out is harder, more expensive, etc.), keep on going, preferably to Cyprus. From there, cheap flights can take you to the rest of the eastern Med for a lot less money and hassle than arriving by boat.

Well that’s our experience and learning. We were one of 28 boats this season to stop in Suakin. We heard only 18 stopped in Eritrea. With Mohammed’s help, nothing could be simpler, easier, and more enjoyable than stopping in Suakin, Sudan. He really made it a great experience. If you have more time, I hear you might wish to see Sudan’s pyramids, precursor to the larger, newer Egyptian “copies.” If you want to scuba dive, you need to make arrangements ahead of time through the dive companies in Port Sudan. Most scuba operating boats are liveaboards and in high season, depart for a week at a time. We didn’t dive because all the boats were booked and there were no day trips available. We don’t carry our own dive equipment on Kandu. Just no space.

Tangled or Knot? To Bintan Island, Indonesia by Eric

Nick Rigney, Leslie Rigney, Rainer, Bryce Rigney, Trent Rigney

October 16, 2017

We left Ketawai Island this morning after saying good-bye to my brother, Nick. He’d just spent a beloved week traveling with us, having brought a lot of gear and gifts, and taking back with him a lot of our souvenirs. We were all emotional saying goodbye. Our ‘live’ link with home has left and we were back to being the 4 muskateers. Bintan is the last scheduled stop for the Sail Indonesia Rally 2017. Our rally’s member boats have dwindled to a mere remaining 5-6. Some participants never really followed any of the rally and some headed off to other parts of the world after following most of it. The US Thanksgiving holiday season is approaching. So some needed to leave their boats elsewhere to fly “home” for a visit with family and friends. Most of the rally boats preferred not to sail overnight. Being predominantly couples, they found themselves exhausted upon arrival, losing a day to recover. We are not such a boat. Overnighters are simple for us, being that we are four and can spread like a fan the burden of night watches. Our night watch routine has now become habit.

Indonesian fishing platform.

Winds on the northern side of the Indonesian island chain are light and typically from behind as we sailed westerly. The mainsail was mostly used to steady our vessel as we motored along in a light following swell. We chose such weather purposely, wanting to avoid adversarial conditions whenever possible.

This night was like our other Indonesian crossings in that regard. What I didn’t expect was the challenge the fishing nets would throw at us. We’ve grown accustomed to weaving our way around the fishing boats and their obstacles, including their fish attracting devices (FAD’s), free floating or anchored constructs of various size and materials, usually equipped with a small double D-cell battery operated LED flashing light, activated by the darkness. The fishing boats are also of various sizes, some no larger than a Mexican panga, others equivalent to small tuna boat. Typically, fishing boats with nets deployed fall down wind or down current, whichever is stronger, of their nets, their bows thus pointing up toward the other end of their net. We pass behind these boats. The larger boats with racks of large bright lights blaring on both sides, carry their nets close to their sides and behind them to attract and snag squid. These boats we pass on their ‘away’ side, the side opposite their direction of travel. Where the shallows meet the deep must be the region of great schools of fish because it was at this point we passed through what seems a 15-mile line of lighted boats a mile thick. It felt like we were a starship, breaking through an imaginary line of alien starships. Just before the first night watch, we spied a larger than normal lighted fishing buoy. We had to quickly make a choice: sail to port or starboard of the buoy.

Indonesian fishing boats.


We chose to sail starboard of the buoy and that choice forced us to carry forward for 50 minutes taking us further away out to sea away from our island destination. Every 100 yards there was a small white buoy attached to the net to indicate a net was there – no electronic bobbers or beacons in site. It wasn’t at all clear where the net ended. Bryce and Leslie headed to the foredeck armed with flashlights to watch for each new buoy hoping there would be an end. Eventually, the net culminated at a medium sized wooden Indonesian fishing boat. Motoring around the fishing boat, we then headed back to our original line – this adventure adding an extra 2 hours or so to our intended plan all the while motoring on placid night seas. So far, we have avoided getting tangled in fishing nets. We’ll remain vigilant.

 

Delorme LogNotes: To Bintan, Indonesia Oct 2017

Oct 15, 2017 3 am – We will dock Kandu at the suggested Bintan Island Marina & visit Singapore by ferry. Taking a breather from all the recent touring. Indonesia has been a jewel. Imagine we’ll return by plane some day. I’d like to help them develop & showcase their tourism capabilities. Think a job may be forming for my future: economic development via tourism & media (film & TV programs). That would be fun for me. Maybe get certified as Project Management Professional (Nick’s suggestion) & media (film & TV programs). I would use media by making movies/TV programs (dramas/romance) to entice viewers to want to visit, & create local programs to educate locals on available solutions for existing social issues.

Oct 15 2017 9:17 am – A subdued motorsail. Need to average 4.5 kts or greater to arrive before dark tomorrow. Will cross the equator before dinner today. Don’t think we’ll be crossing the equator again between here & CA as we go N into the Med from here, then across to Caribbean. Columbus hoped to find East Indies (Indonesia) for spices, but stumbled on the West Indies (Caribbean). It’s fun to explore both.

In FP, sailing friends suggested we see more of the S. Pac, 1-3 more yrs. In Indonesia, sailing friends say the same for SE Asia. I’m already hearing the same about the Mediterranean and will likely hear the same for Caribbean, and S & Central America. I say we’re doing it “buffet” style, not “sit-down dinner” style. When they push I say they’re right…Since we’re not dedicating adequate time, we should just go home!

And that’s actually what we’re doing…but the long way back. All of us dream of flying back to CA for 2wks, but at our current pace, that would mean missing one extraordinary experience or another, something none of us are willing to risk. Sure we’d like to skip the long passages, but that wouldn’t be fair to the rest of the crew. Each of us makes it easier on the others.

Oct 15 2017 21:27 pm – Took pictures of us crossing the equator. Turned around & did it again so B&T could swim across it. 2hrs later, avoided a 2 mile fishnet, driving us temporarily off course. Recycled bottles floated the net. Difficult to see. B saw ’em, saving us from tangling the net in our prop. Sea snakes swimming made me even more grateful we didn’t have to jump into the sea to cut off a tangled net caught in our prop.

Delorme LogNotes: Ketawai & Bangka, Oct 2017

Oct 10 2017 – Arrived at Ketawai, small island à la Gilligan’s Isle, anchored in shallow water, rather exposed to the mostly benign elements. Hope the wind doesn’t turn on us.

Oct 12 2017 – Organizers of the Ketawai rally stop boated over a make-shift stage, pavilion, kitchen, & store to this uninhabited island. Fed us all day yesterday, guided us on snorkeling tour, and had a young dance troop perform trad’l Indonesian/Sumatran dances for us accompanied by trad’l orchestra. Plus another band of excellent contemporary musicians & singers performed hits from Beatles, Bob Marley, country, & today. L & B took turns performing on stage. Earlier in the day, the boys & Uncle Nick had fun getting up to speed flying the drone, capturing cool images. Boys & friend Rainer r camping ashore tonight.

Today, organizers plan to shuttle boat us to main island, Bangka, for a town & mangrove tour. Marine police r on hand to guard our boats while gone. Mostly in case of weather, but maybe to keep the fishermen honest. The gov’t really takes care of us, insuring we’ve nothing but good experiences. It’s been off-the-charts great, especially the friends we make on each island. Astounded how quickly solid friendships can be formed over such brief periods. With sailors, I get it, but with locals, 2-3 days & you have a possible lifelong friendship. I think often the community’s brightest people are paired with us and those that speak English, of course, since we only know a couple words in Bahasa. Maybe that’s why it’s so easy.

Oct 13, 2017 – A police boat brought us cross the channel to main island Bangka. Police escorted our 2 busses to mrkt place. More police in mrkt including undercovers to insure nothing goes wrong. We are considered tourism emissaries, thus must have nothing but good to report. Indonesia even has its own special tourism police branch to help tourists, often young & attractive, English speaking.

Nick Rigney featured on left in photo.

Many photos taken of us by press & locals wanting selfies w/us. We made the paper twice. Gov’t wants to show they are developing tourism in their remote regions. Vocational High School went crazy for boys again, especially when Rainer quickly kissed a girl’s hand. CRAZY!!!

Once again Kandu Crew is surrounded by the ladies!

This region is more conservatively Muslim, but no feeling of tension, perhaps because we dress & act appropriately. Indonesian smiles are infectious.

Organizers had us take a panga boat thru narrow, windy mangrove waterway to an eco center for lunch. Elevated wooden walkways thru thickly forested mangroves, made for a magical adventure as we made our way to a treehouse restaurant.

Red Cross volunteers were completing training in the water while we were there, all dressed in red Tshirts, black pants. The First Lady of the provincial governor was there to meet us & support the Red Cross volunteers’ graduating ceremony, placing red baseball caps on their heads as they exited the waist-high marsh.

The speedboat ride back was quick. The dinner ashore was bittersweet as we bid farewell to many. Some boats leaving that we won’t likely see again. Rainer, the boys’ buddy from Santa Cruz CA flies out today & Nick flies out tomorrow. So last night’s dinner was a farewell celebration, with promises of meeting up again some day and keeping in touch.

I must make reservations for the next 5 marinas in Malaysia that are part of the Rally, plus Thailand. 75 boats are signed up. Not enough room for us all in each marina. We expect to meet & make more friends & find the group to transit the Red Sea. Although so many boats have registered for the Malaysia Rally, experience shows us that less than 25% stick with it. In our Sail Indonesia Rally, USA boats were a minority, but almost all stuck with it, making US boats the majority.

Slow, easy day today at Ketawai. Three of the 7 yachts have left. Breakfast was eaten Indonesian style, on the beach under palm trees, served over banana leaves. We had a great time releasing baby turtles into the ocean. An entire crowd gathered around to pray for them and see them off. Evidently, the surviving turtles will return to Ketawai after 10 years to mate. Evening entertainment: a great 5 piece contemporary band, a traditional band & young dancers, speeches, and gifts of handmade batik scarves.

We’ll miss Ketawai. After brkfst on the beach tomorrow, Nick will depart aboard a speedboat loaded with a suitcase full of our junk to store in our storage space. He will be taking a plane to Central Java to visit the incredible Buddhist and Hindu temples. Kandu will also depart and sail two days to North Bintan, our last Indonesian Rally stop. Lots planned for us. Few boats remain.

Oct 15 2017

This is Leslie @ 3:40 am on watch. Stars showing in full force. Motoring as no wind. Experienced most fab time at latest stop Ketawai. Ketawai is similar to a motu. Very small fishing and tourist island for locals from bigger neighbor island Banka to get away for the day.

Nick’s visit was way too short. He left this am to Java to visit the Buddhist n Hindu temples near Yogyakarta. He brought us stuff and is returning w/ stuff as usual. The boys loved their bday cards as did I and the very nice letters you sent. I spent at least an hour pouring over your letters/notes. Very sad to say goodbye to Rainer. Boys really enjoyed his N. California Santa Cruz flavor.

Goodbye Ketawai!