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.