Holiday in Indonesia - Kevin to the rescue!

Date: 19th August 2025

Location: Pulau Besar, Flores

Holiday time.

Mehalah's boat stamp which made checking in so much more fun.

Yesterday morning Kevin heard a big "wumpf" and then Shawna saw a big cloud of smoke appear behind our local volcano. Turns out it was Flores' big one called Lewotobi Laki-Laki with a very impressive eruption of its own that hit the international news sites, with ash being thrown 8km up in the air. Here's a picture taken at the time.

One big bang.

There are active volcanoes wherever you look here. Two nights ago we could see three of them and in the morning the decks are covered in black volcanic dust. All pretty surreal really.

One night's black volcanic dust on the deck.

Anyway, back to Kupang. It's big, busy and bustling. Mopeds everywhere bearing gas bottles, up to three children and long lengths of bamboo. Matthew organised for us to visit the veggie market where we as white folks caused quite a stir. Still not used to the massive bank notes I'm pretty sure we were ripped off but with a 50,000 rupiah note being worth only £2.50 it was a very worthwhile experience. Sweet corn, onions, tumeric, avos etc - we stocked up for the next leg of our journey to Flores.

Kupang - the fuel dock!

Kupang style transport.

The veggie market at Kupang.

Matthew, our Mr Fixit organised for us to take a car trip to some of the close by sights of Timor for a day. I have to say the sights were not that amazing but we saw a nice waterfall (they really don't know how to make the most of these places) and had lunch out at a famous pork(!) restaurant where they cook the meat over a fire.

The day started with pre-study dancing with some college students.

Attractive waterfall....

...but a lot of rubbish - no one seems to care.

Now that's what I call a real BBQ.

Ablutions, Timor style.

The following morning we were off at 10am for the 110 mile passage across the Timor Sea to the main island chain of Indonesia. It was blowing 20k behind us so we anticipated a fast sail. But after just a few miles Meraki radioed us to say they had problems with the furler, it wouldn't, and with the autopilot which was not working. They were going back to Kupang to fix them. What would we like to do? Although it meant bashing back to windward for a couple of hours we decided to follow them. After all we are buddy boats. Buddy boats don't stop buddying when the going gets tough. So we had another day in Kupang. Their autopilot was quickly fixed (something had knocked a switch and switched it off). But the furler was more of a problem. This is the thing that allows you to wind the front sail around the stay when you aren't using it. Several hours later they determined the top swivel had lost its bearing race leaving a couple of the remaining ball bearings on the deck. Amazingly they had bought some spares in Fiji(!) so they slotted them into the swivel, closed the little entry holes with tape and rehoisted the sail. Unfortunately our anchor windlass had also started jumping again and was getting pretty dangerous.

Kevin at the top of the mast fixing the furler.

So off we went again. And again a lively sail at 7k in 20+ knots of wind. We worried we might arrive at the pass between the next two islands before light and we knew there was likely to be a strong current up between the islands - best done in daylight. And then the wind stopped. Just like that. From 20+ knots to 5 knots in 10 metres. Weird or what? Engines on and with the wind now ahead of us and a nasty swell we motored uncomfortably through the night to the beginning of the Lamakera Strait. We approached the southern end at 5.5 knots. And then Meraki who were ahead of us suddenly slowed to 1.1 knots and were only travelling sideways. We had hit the famous 6 knot adverse current wall. Water swirled around us, big eddying pools, overfalls and all the time water rushing past us. We slowed even further and with 16 miles of this ahead of us we feared we would be forced to turn around and find shelter at the entry anchorage. But with no real idea of the tides maybe it would only get worse. We kept slowly inching north with the volcano to port barely moving. We cheered every five or ten minutes as another 0.1 of a mile was recorded even if half of that had been sideways. It wasn't the most stress free section of the route!

Sailing past another volcano.

After several hours we finally popped out the other end of the pass and into a narrow, reef fringed channel which led to Kroko Atol. What an anchorage! Possible the most spectacular anchorage ever and we arrived in perfect conditions. Deep at around 20m with a strong current flowing it was absolutely magnificent. We were the only boats there but a short distance away was "A" one of the biggest and most controversial private yachts ever built. It looks like a nuclear submarine and cost over US$300m to build for a Russian oligarch. It's since been seized by the west and we think is now owned by a Bulgarian guy. Anyway one of their lackeys came buzzing over in his giant tender and said they were coming up the channel to anchor and would we keep clear. Hmm. Not impressed. In they came, VERY close to us and dropped their anchor.

Mindblowingly amazing.

Slightly miffed but we were considerably mollified when the rib returned with two bottles of 2020 Châteauneuf du Pape to thank us for our inconvenience! We have decided one bottle for Gilly's upcoming birthday and one for Kevin's. The holiday starts here. Just 200 miles to do in 6 weeks before we meet daughter Emma and Chris.

The yacht "A" and its little dinghy. Now well past us.

Very nice indeed. Thank you "A".

We lazed around, swam, watched the sun go down and played games (anyone for Mollkë) on the little sand island. So so good after the slog up the east coast of Australia and long passages to get here.

Our very own volcano.

Playing Mollke as the sun sets.

The end of a fabulous day.

Next morning the wind was up and we had to move for "A" to leave anyhow so we decided to push on to the village of Sagu just 7 miles away. Delightful. A rather muddy tricky bay but good holding. Small dugout canoes propelled by little children puttered out to see us. "Book?". "Pencil?" A few old guys came out too. I gave them some of the fishing hooks I had bought for the purpose back in Gladstone.

The following morning we braved the shallows and pulling up onto the black volcanic beach. Immediately we were surrounded by schoolchildren smiling and laughing. Indonesia is pretty poor but what a happy country it seems to be. Everyone wanted their photo taken - either with our cameras or with theirs. We walked on into the mainly Muslim village. Little groups of young children everywhere, all smiling and giggling.  Shawna had some pencils to give out and she was soon surrounded by more children. We met some of the school teachers and asked where was the market, the pasar. The other side of the village. We walked on. More smiles, more selfies. A truck with tuna and a motor cycle passing us and then returning for yet more selfies. Great fun. As we made our way back to the dinghy a young woman approached us. Her English was better. Did we want some fresh coconuts? We did. Five minutes later we were in a big coconut grove. At the top of one of the trees is a guy with a machete dropping coconuts down to the ground. We watched as he shinned up the near vertical trees to reach the coconuts at the top. When he came down the whole family prepped the coconuts for us and we first drank the fresh water before chewing the slimy flesh. How much for the coconuts? "These are not for sale". Before we left the young woman wanted Shawna's Instagram address so they could be friends! I'm not sure how everyone has a mobile phone and each family a moped when the people seem so poor.

Three little cuties.

Pencils for the Muslim girls.

Boatbuilding. Painted drink cups for the safety barrier.

Tuna en route from the market.

The girls school.

The boys school.

Up the tree we go with machete in one hand.

Watch out! Here it comes.

The coconut family.

A lot of the anchorages here are really deep with the seabed rapidly rising from several hundred metres to a coral reef lying just offshore leaving little room to drop an anchor. Our poor windlass even with its new gypsy was skipping badly threatening to jump off entirely taking 100m of chain hurtling to the sea bed. As we arrived at one of the deepest anchorages this came to a head and I needed to do something about it urgently. Kevin came over as we mulled over our options. The real issue is that the windlass is not high enough above the bow roller and it can't be raised because the furling drum is too low. We needed a way to hold the chain down as it came off the gypsy. I was pretty despondent and wondered how we could survive with it jumping so badly until we reached Malaysia. I suggested somehow holding the chain down and then Kevin went off to find some bits. He returned with an old anchor shackle, a stainless hook and a small stainless shackle. A few minutes later we had the solution that you can see in the photo. Really neat and the sort of thing you need to think about when your raw materials are limited and you have a problem. Fantastic Kevin. Rescue number one!

Kevin's Mk1 chain safety shackle.

We tied to Meraki that evening to allow the repair to be devised and implemented. It was calm so we were all comfortable to be sharing the Meraki's anchor even though we were in more than 20m of water.

Rafted up with Meraki 2.

16 miles from here to our next anchorage at Wodong so we upped anchors and motored most of the way weaving through the fads (fish attracting devices) and marvelling once again at the amazing so recent volcanic landscape all around us. 

A typical fad. That's why we don't want to sail at night.

Famous for its chilled out Happy Dive School we dropped anchor at Wodong and reversed back to make sure it was set hard. All good. Except. What's that fishing line doing! Oh no, it's wrapped around the prop shaft. I should have reeled it in before we anchored. Gill was not a happy bunny and I received several earfuls of justified abuse. You'll remember Gill's free diving skills are minimal (her bum comes up but her head won't go down) and mine are non existent. Not ideal but we are with Kevin and Shawna and there's a dive school here. After explainiing the situation to K&S they came over equipped with masks, snorkels and fins. With knives and pliers at the ready under they went. Gill had already seen there was a lot of line wound around the shaft. The question was had it worked its way into the cutless bearing? Soon they had my favourite lure free and then fistfuls of short lengths of blue line were passed from K&S to Gill and to me on the transom. Finally the remains of the metal trace were recovered and thankfully the line had not forced its way inside the cutless bearing. Thank you both. That could have been disastrous. And it's Kevin's second rescue in as many days.

You don't want that lot wrapped around your shaft.

We were still anchored off the dive school at Wodong along with the first two cruising boats we had seen since Kupang. Their occupants had gone into nearby Maumere for provisions when Kevin called me on the radio. "I think that beautiful Neel 45 is dragging its anchor." It was. I was making bread and water at the time and Gill was cleaning the hull. We quickly reallocated jobs and I sped off with Kevin and Shawna in their dinghy on the next rescue mission. The yacht was still drifting and before long it would be on the unforgiving coral reef. We tied on to the big trimaran and tested the anchor windlass. Nothing. Engine. Nothing. Boat locked. But what's this? Shawna had found a small hatch open. I made myself very small and squirmed in on my back. I let the others in through the patio door (this is a big boat) and we hunted for a main breaker switch. Kevin found the emergency switch in the engine room which did the trick. Engine on, anchor raised and we headed for the shore. Just then the French owner couple Bruno and Pascale arrived back on shore and raced towards us in their dinghy. We explained what we had done and left them to it. That evening they took us all out to dinner at the dive club to say thank you. Quelle excitation and Kevin's third rescue in three days and Shawna's second!

Bringing the rescued trimaran back to the anchorage.

And finally. We mostly use Navionics as our chart application but here in Indonesia their charts are not too accurate. Add that to the fact that Garmin who own Navionics have decided to withdraw their Indonesian charts for several months and we are using an open source app called OpenCPN which is excellent. It uses satellite images rather than traditional charts. The problem though is that the images are pretty dark in the glaring light of the tropics so we have to improvise.

Port 15 degrees please Gill.

Indonesia - never a dull moment.

Passage to Asia

Date: 2nd August 2025

Location: 160 miles from Kupang, Indonesia

It's 23.29 on Saturday night. I'm wrapped in a blanket with my left arm curled round the port staysail winch and my right foot wedged against the frame of the companionway. There's a nice half moon shining so the stars aren't all that bright though I have spotted Scorpio my favourite constellation up above me on the left. Half a mile ahead of me I can see Meraki's orange stern light.

Around me hisses a moderate and confused sea with occasional waves jumping the hull sending seawater swirling down the side decks. The day after tomorrow we should arrive in Kupang..

To check out of Australia we had to leave our anchorage in Fannie Bay (a great name by the way) and motor a couple of miles to the Customs  Dock at th entrance to Cullen Bay Marina. There's a fuel dock there too so we filled up both tanks and our jerries to ensure we had sufficient fuel for the four day passage to Indinesia.

It was hot as Border Force arrived. Our passports were checked, Mehalah's Control Permit was scrutinised and regulations explained (extension misplaced but then found - phew no fine or jail!). Leave Australia immediately, call us if you need to return, no stopping in Christmas Island or Cocos Keeling. Rules are fairly strict but you can reclain GST if you are lucky. I had prefilled the form in advance electronically to save time but apparently I had failed to inform some office of the fact so I had to redo it all again manually anyway.

And then it was time to leave. Mehalah and Meraki motored out through the shipping channel and then turned left. [Oops, just been thrown off my cushion and across the cockpit!].

We expected two days of motoring but at first we had lovely conditions. Flat sea, nice breeze and a strong west going current. But the wind soon died and the motor was started. Yup. A whole day with the engine droning in the background and very little to report.

And then the predicted wind kicked in. Dead downwind we poled out Kevin's spare genoa which is larger than our yankee. With our new sail and a clean bottom we flew along. The wind built over the next hour. Not gale force but not far off. Apparent winds of 22-25 knots plus boats speeds of 7-8 knots. All good but we're no longer protected behind the Great Barrier Reef. Big, big waves around four metres with a short period. Shawna calls them lunkers. Stuff starts to fly around. It's hard to move below decks without a bruise. A red wine bottle (Pepperjack, the best) breaks. A white wine  breaks. The green cabbage goes into orbit. Oranges and one tomato fly out of their basket. Gill's glass coffee percolator smashes. We moan a bit, set up the downwind pole (twice at 40 minutes a time, clipped on and safe) and take in another reef. Nothing breaks and the repaired forestay furler holds up fine.

Hey, what's this? Out of the waves comes a pretty Indonesian fishing boat. Beating upwind just a couple of boat lengths away. Big prow with a fisherman somehow keeping his footing as the boat rears up over each wave. And 20m ahead of them a red flag cutting through the water. They must have hooked and speared a really big fish. I wondered how far they've chased it and what it is.

Over the few hours other boats slope passed. They are a long way offshore but look pretty fragile. We think they are fishing in this shallower area that also sports several oil or gas platforms.

Date: 3rd August 2025

Location: Closing on Timor, Indonesia

150 miles to Kupang and we've slowed down to avoid doing the last tricky 20 miles in the dark. 4.5 knots for 20 hours should see us to the approach to Kupang early tomorrow morning. Sea much flatter and the sun is trying to peek through. It's all quite pleasant.

Date: 7th August 2025

Location: Kupang, Timor, Indonesia

After a beautiful sail up the approaches to Kupang we finally arrived in Indonesia. Tired after the four day passage we were looking forward to a sleep before checking in. But before the anchor was set in 22m of water(!) quarantine were on board. Wearing Covid masks they checked our drugs cabinet, took temperatures, checked our papers and finally passed us fit to enter. Then they photographed us taking down the yellow quarantine flag and replacing it with the red and white Indonesian flag. Four of them including one woman and Mr John who was pleased to share my name. Then came the document signing. "Do you have a boat stamp?" Yes we do (though it's never been used). Great excitement. Gill as skipper (more excitement and amazement) was then required to sign around six forms all with several signatures. After each signature I was required to over stamp with our beautiful new boat stamp and then they had to photograph each stamped signature! As she left Gill was admiring the quarantine lady's headscarf brooch. She wanted to give it to Gill, most unusual for a official!

By now we were in touch with Matthew our agent. We usually do our own entry formalities but because our visas had our entry port as Saumlaki not Kupang we decided on utilising Matthew the local Mr Fixit. For $200US (very expensive) he proved amazingly helpful as we next dealt with immigration (who had just implemented a new system that didn't work very well), customs (whose system for entering Mehalah to the country had broken whilst being upgraded) and finally the harbour master. It would have been tricky hiring taxis or scooters to move from office to office without any Indonesian so Matthew made things so much simpler at the same time teaching us about this new country.

Indonesia is very different from Australia. Although most of the 4,000 islands are predominantly Muslim Timor is a mix with the majority actually being Protestant. That doesn't stop the muezzin chanting their prayers every few hours though (in fact I can hear him now). There are a few official buildings and the odd supermarket but the overall impression is of a plethora of small businesses hosted in insubstantial huts or lean-tos. Matthew organised a visit to BCA (Bank Central Asia) to get some money from the ATM. Armed guards reminded us that Indonesia is the most corrupt country in the world though all we have seen is friendliness and helpfulness. With our £300UK pounds converted to 6,000,000 Indonesian rupiah it was off to the fruit market to buy snake fruit, bananas and oddly shaped mangoes for next to nothing. It is SO cheap here. A visit to the opulent Telcomcel offices for SIM cards took each of us, Kevin, Shawna, Gill and myself 

two and a half hours to complete. Final cost for a SIM card and 30 days worth of 38gB of data was just over £5UK. Amazing. Biggest laugh of the visit? When we told the lady that Gill was the skipper. When we also said Gill was the chef she asked me did I actually contribute anything at all!

As usual getting our UK propane gas bottle proved a bit problematic until Matthew found a way to (over)fill it. I needed to make up yet another hose to allow him to decant from another larger cylinder. Rules are slightly more relaxed here than in Australia.

Anyway after two and a half days all formalities were complete and the four of us celebrated along with Michael and Nina from Serendipity who arrived just after us. Our destination was the 999 restaurant on the water's edge. Formerly famous with cruisers as Teddy's Bar it serves the most amazing smoked tuna collar bone together with tofu vegetable soup, tuna in onion, rice and a VERY hot but delicious red chilli sauce. Beers flowed from giant coolers resembling shishas, the night was warm, conversation was great with both old and new friends and here we were finally in Indonesia and Asia.