🇦🇺⛵️ The evening call to prayer is being carried across the harbour to us, accompanied by the last rays of the sun. The bean bags on the back of the yacht are the perfect place to enjoy the show, and to try and summarise our last week of sailing. This involves pulling together a mixed bag of feelings; accomplishment at having completed the journey in such a way, an increased awe of the beauty and power of nature, and a questioning of if we stepped too far out of our comfort zones.
Spending six days on a boat, with no land in sight, was an other worldly experience for the two of us.
We marvelled at the myriad of colours and forms that the water took on over the six days. From a docile mirror reflecting the last pink glow of the sun, to a dark, mountainous and threatening force. Dolphins joined us at the bow, flying fish escaped snapping turtles with amazing bursts of speed and long glides over and around waves. A flying fish even managed to glide onto the boat and into my shoe, tucked under a shelf, just what I wanted to squish my foot against when I pulled on my shoes for a midnight-3am shift.
With each fiery sunset and the emergence of the first stars, the nightshifts would begin. Three hours on, three hours off, throughout the night. Someone needed to be always monitoring the sails and wind, and scanning the horizon for fishing boats or tankers. Many times we changed course to avoid fleets of boats raking the sea.
The monotony also made itself felt. Wedged in our small bed on day three, I noted: I already feel like we could have been on this sea for weeks and weeks, and we’re not even half way. It’s like being stuck in some sort of parallel world, a limbo of only sea and sky.
After a slow start wind wise, the last two days bought increasing wind and waves, and increasing heart rates. The final night aboard was a sleepless one, with the size and strength of the waves too great for the autopilot, the boat had to be hand steered for the last day. As the conditions intensified I started to feel fear deep in my stomach, and the feeling of risk intensified. With waves towering over the boat and sending us surfing forward, we took turns at the wheel, trying to keep us on course and make sure we weren’t spun around by waves coming up behind us. Suffice to say we had a very long last 24 hours of sailing, with the hours and minutes becoming longer and longer as we approached land.
Tears welled up with the relief and elation as we rounded the cape to come into harbour and left the swell behind. We made it, but was it worth it. We are still reflecting on that one.
With the drama behind us, we’ve been reveling in the colourful exoticism and calm of this far flung part of Indonesia. We’ve also been busy exercising our patience again, this time in the offices of various local bureaucrats. With our paperwork just about all in order, we’re ready to leave Steve and his yacht behind and continue our journey by ferry, destination Banda Neira, the spice islands home to nutmeg! Who knows, we might even treat ourselves to the first shower and non-moving bed in over a month…
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