1991 was the end of Eritrea’s 30-year civil war with Ethiopia but it seems that 1997 marked the beginning of Eritrea’s printing and/or coinage of their own money. Over time, the government began to discourage private enterprise and travel, resulting in depreciation of their money, and the extinction of Eritrean coins. Today, 26 years later, the most commonly exchanged denomination are the 5 and 10 Nakfa bills. Sadly, the streets of Eritrea house large amounts of beggars. One of which was a skinny old man with a kind face, distinct jaw line, and a gruff white beard. He hobbled down the pedestrian sidewalk of Liberation Avenue in downtown Asmara, past a line of homeless, grasping tight his well-used yet sturdy cane and then he stopped. He had spotted a young Caucasian teenager and his mother, us, sitting in front of the towering Ave Maria Cathedral.
Bryce Rigney in front of Ave Maria Cathedral of Asmara, Eritrea.
Suddenly the man came alive, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a handful of coins, Eritrean and those from other countries in North Africa. “Hello, hello,” he said with his aged voice, trying to catch my attention. Interested and frankly board of sitting down in front of the cathedral waiting for Dad, I moved over to see what he had placed out for display. Unmasked from his chapped palms were a 1 and 5 Eritrean coins from 1997.
On one side, they displayed images of native animals that had once thrived amongst the lands. The other side depicted soldiers raising up the new national flag to mark their independence in 1991. I asked to borrow his treasures for a minute so I could interest my mom sitting a few steps above with what I had discovered. At the time I hadn’t a clue that they were of no value. In exchange for a couple of 1’s and 5’s I gave him a 10 Nakfa bill, which would most certainly be spent on his dinner that night. It was obvious from his big smile that he was delighted. Before continuing his walk, in broken English he informed me that the dates of the coins were manufactured in 1991 and tried to explain their original values. Then he proceeded down the sidewalk and blended in amongst the busy paths of other pedestrians.
For more information, I found a great short website about the printing of Eritrean money: http://africa.worldofcoins.eu/af-eri.htm
April 7, 2018 – e-letter sent from Port Suakin, Sudan
Hello Dear Family and Friends – Thank you for your thoughts and prayers!
Praise God that we made it safely through the Gulf of Aden w/o incident. Our engine worked perfectly and we are extremely pleased to report that the coalition war force (31 countries providing naval support in the High Risk Area) was monitoring the shipping lanes in full force to great effect. Many of our friends and family have been praying for us and we are grateful. We did indeed feel protected even when, on two separate occasions, what were later deemed fishing boats got a bit too close for comfort. When we became concerned, we hailed the war force coalition on VHF Channel 16 and the coalition sent over a naval aircraft to survey our surroundings. In both cases, the fishing boats moved on. It’s entirely possible they were simply curious fishermen. We’ll never know.
Kandu tied up to Port Massawa, Eritrea.
From Cochin, India, after 20 days at sea crossing the Indian Ocean, Arabian Ocean, through the Gulf of Aden and into the Red Sea, we landed at Port Massawa, Eritrea, a predominately Christian country with many active Orthodox Christian and Lutheran Congregations. We stood outside an Orthodox Christian church during service one Sunday morning near Port Massawa and the mass, with its cantering, sounded very similar to the Muslim cantering that we’ve been hearing everyday over loudspeakers since arriving in Indonesia. The women arrived completely covered from head to toe in mostly white linens…a few had colorful long dresses under the long white head/body coverings. Before entering the church grounds everyone stopped to kiss the wall or the gate several times and concluded the ritual with crossing themselves. No chairs or benches, there was a lot of kneeling (touching forehead to ground) then standing and then more kneeling during the service. The men stood on the inside perimeter wall of the church property instead of approaching or entering the church. Of course, the service was conducted in the local tongue.
Orthodox Church, Eritrea near Port Massawa.
We couldn’t understand any of it, so after 45 minutes, we wandered away to visit a nearby war memorial featuring 3 steel war tanks aggressively posed. The war-hammered tanks were impressive; the surrounding memorial looked similar not having had maintenance performed on it since erected. However, we particularly noticed there was no extraneous trash lying around. It seems the Eritrean government is keeping up with the monumental task of treating the ever-increasing problem of refuse.
Port Massawa War Memorial
The locals are friendly and Port Massawa, being an international port, albeit sleepy, some speak English along with Italian and Arabic – their official languages. During our stay, several locals spoke Italian to us hoping we would understand. With my meager 1 year of Italian study, I was at least able to respond back with “Buon giorno” and a few simple sentences. We toured the nearby village close to the port of Massawa (the once thriving city of Massawa is now a ghost town because Ethiopia shifted its international shipping industry south to Djibouti after Eritrea gained independence from them) where we anchored (several bombed out “memorials” are still standing).
Kandu Crew’s first Eritrean cafe experience, Port Massawa.
Rental cars are non-existent in Eritrea. Hiring by telephone a local 5-seater taxi was the easiest way for the four of us to get to the local village from Port Massawa. It was also possible to take the local bus, but since we didn’t know where we were going and the local stores are not marked and there were no local maps to be had, it wasn’t practical.
The government limits Internet. We found that the country is pretty much managed by a one-man show. Very impoverished circumstances across the board as modern private industry is discouraged and distrusted. Just about everyone there is thin. We four were a major curiosity as everyone there is dark skinned with African/Egyptian features. They see few tourists coming up the Red Sea. We learned after talking with a handful of Italian tourists that obtaining permits to fly into the country is very difficult, but arriving by boat was similar to most clearance procedures we have encountered. As a cruiser, obtaining a visitor’s permit was not difficult and handled right near the port on the same day we arrived. Money talks, of course.
Solomon our taxi driver tour guide extraordinaire!
To get to Asmara, the capital city, was quite the challenge. We had to obtain visitor travel permits. We would never have been able to do this without our taxi driver/guide extraordinaire, Solomon. Once permits were acquired, traveling from one unmarked building to another located far from each other, we then headed to the bus station to stand in line with the locals to catch the next bus to the capital city…traveling by private taxi to Asmara was prohibitively expensive, not to mention the fact – not a particularly local experience…which tends to be our preference. Once again our taxi driver/guide Solomon saved the day and finagled four tickets for us and helped us get aboard, otherwise we would never have boarded the bus.
Old “blind” Eritrean beggar counting his money after boarding the bus and asking for handouts.
Finally the bus arrived, however, it sat ½ hour before allowing passengers to board. Once boarded, it remained another hour before leaving. The bus ride itself was 4 hours, switch-backing up the mountains with one stop off in a town where children heckled the passengers to buy food and sticks for brushing our teeth (a little girl kept holding up a group of sticks to me smiling and repeating “Brush?” “Brush?” until passengers re-boarded. No obvious toilets were to be found. Trent and I stayed on the bus the entire break hiding away from the onslaught of eyes, vendors, and the curious. Bryce, the adventurer, is always a hit because he plays with the children. There was one small little boy that giggled the entire ½ hour hovering around Bryce for fun and games: arm shaking when a hand is proffered and throwing him in the air. I forgot to mention that there are sometimes available privately owned vans that transport people, commodities, and goats on the rooftop between cities, but these independent entrepreneurs are discouraged by the government and tend not to be any faster. They are quadruple the price but are able to sustain since there are not enough government buses to serve the traveling population’s needs.
At the Asmara bus station area we were met by a most wonderful, pre-arranged host, Abel, the nephew of Eritrean friends of ours who years ago emigrated to Los Angeles. Bryce and Trent had swam on the Westchester YMCA swim team with their daughters. Without Abel’s help and guidance, we would have been completely lost….no Internet = no Google = no written travel guidance…you get the idea. Being the only white people at the bus stop, Abel had no trouble locating us in the otherwise hectic bus area. When he pulled up next to us in his white, beat up Toyota sedan, Eric asked, “How did you know it was us?” Abel laughed showing off a beautiful white grin. We discovered that speaking French together was the easiest as he had grown up in France and he felt uncomfortable speaking English. It was great to make use of our French again!
Abel and his beautiful family.
In his car, he toured us around the city showing us the sites and the lay of the land. Then he brought us to our hotel. We hadn’t realized that even the hotel didn’t accept credit cards. The country no longer supports credit cards or ATMs. So we couldn’t stay in the “expensive” international tourist friendly (i.e., running water) hotel because we hadn’t brought enough US cash to turn into Nafka, nor did we want to stay in that hotel because it was too expensive for us mostly because we would have had to book two rooms. The hotel manager suggested we try the next door sister hotel frequented mostly by locals. To our surprise, the Hamassien Hotel is an Eritrean historical site, featured on post cards and Asawa tourist brochures, built by the Italian colonists 100 years ago. It was a bit musty for sure and the furniture somewhat threadbare, yet clean with charming tall, narrow wooden shuttered windows which opened up widely so we could see a bit of the city.
Hamassien Hotel in Asmara, Eritrea.
Since we stayed in the cheaper ‘Hamassien Hotel,’ rather than the Intercontinental Hotel next door, we experienced the city’s normal and constant water shortages.
Sitting room as part of our hotel room in Hamassien Hotel, Asmara, Eritrea.
Our hotel staff regularly fills up the bathtub with water to use with buckets to flush the toilet and to wash with when the running water is diverted to another part of town. No water heaters, the water in the tub was frigid. Needless to say, we didn’t take showers, just spot cleaned! Water in Eritrea is expensive. Drinking water even more so.
Later that evening, Abel joined us to catch some dinner at a nearby western-style café. From our centrally located hotel, we could pretty much walk everywhere that was of interest, so we headed down to the main street “Liberation Avenue,” their “Champs Elysee” or “Rodeo Drive,” and just off the avenue found a burger place to satisfy our hunger. The ‘meat’ hamburgers were actually filled with vegetarian patties…tasted good though. Eric dove into a local dish of pit bread pieces in a tomato sauce with cheese and tiny bits of meat, a version of lasagna is how Eric described it.
Liberation Avenue, Asmara, Eritrea.
Liberation Avenue was bustling with pedestrians out to enjoy the nightlife – not out because of the ‘cooler’ weather. In fact, it was cold. Normally in the hot tropical/desert areas where we’ve been traveling the past three years, people venture out at dusk when the sun sets. As the air cools down, businesses in Polynesia, Vanuatu, Indonesia, Malaysia and India to name a few, tended to reopen from 3 or 4 pm to 9 pm. The typical nightlife type businesses were open in Asawa (restaurants, cafes, bars), but banks, government and most stores closed on the “Western” clock at 17h00. Eritrea is not very humid or tropical. It is either flat and desert or mountainous and dry – hot or cold – very little in between. Fortunately well warned by our taxi driver/guide Solomon in Massawa, we brought warmer clothes than shorts and T-shirts, yet we were still not quite prepared for the onslaught of the night’s cool breezes.
Having arrived in a faraway port town without internet access, we thought the country’s capital might offer some options. The hotels proudly advertised free Internet access, which proved nearly useless. But even in downtown Asmara there was no serviceable Internet cafes. You could pay for an hour and not be able to connect at all. The Internet café’s were useless. Bryce would stand outside their glass windows to measure signal strength, to be disappointed every time. Also credit cards are not accepted anywhere—cash only. They accept US$ but we exchanged our US$ into Nafka, Eritrea’s currency, because it’s easier; 15 Nafka to 1 USD. A “hamburger” and fries went for 45 Nafka. Our bus ride was 30 Nafka or US$2.
Aside from the official buildings and the churches, the capital city looked worn, with many closed businesses, no active cinemas (previously functioning ones were all closed) nor malls. In fact, the capital city shows very little benefit of international trade and industry – with the exception of small clothing stores, some liquor stores, small limited grocery type stores and a central market where they sell staple items like flour (they are very proud of their delicious Italian type bread called “pan”), rice, coffee, fruits and vegetables (mostly onions, tomatoes, chili peppers, watermelons and bananas) and goats.
Coffee shops on the main street are popular serving Italian coffees and tea, but few can afford to eat out at restaurants. We understand with unemployment so high, most men get together to discuss non-existent income opportunities and the much-anticipated passing of the president. Some bars exist, serving inexpensive Eritrean alcohol, but still too expensive for locals. Unlike Muslim countries, clothing for women is not heavily restrictive. Women in the capital wear tight leggings/jeans and close fitting tops. However, you rarely see a woman wearing shorts or skirts/dresses cut higher than the ankle. Although not required, 75% of the women wear head and sarong type coverings perhaps to keep off the dust. I didn’t wear tank tops off the boat, but I did wear knee-length shorts covered by knee-length Indian tops. Men wear pants, few shorts, and button-down shirts, T-shirts, and polos. All wore sweaters at night in Asmara against the cold. Clothes are well worn. There are many beggars.
People squat on their feet when they get tired of standing…they rarely sit down as there are no benches and the ground is dirty with feces and spit. Very little rain – the streets and walkways are rarely cleaned…maybe swept. Paved roads and tiled sidewalks (remnants of the Italian colonization up until 1941) are found in the capital and on main roads…the rest is hard packed dirt. Dust pervades everything, covering your clothing and sweaty skin. The very poor people near Port Massawa live in small communities of tin shacks with dirt floors – no running water.
The second day in Asmara, the four of us set off to find breakfast and the National Museum of Eritrea. Asking many people along the way where to find it, we got closer and closer, yet couldn’t seem to locate it. We asked some students who shrugged their shoulders. Turns out, I saw the sign directly across the street from where we were just inquiring. Eritrea has many archeological sites and some of the findings were displayed at their three-room museum. A replica of the rare, very early human skull of a woman found in Eritrea was centrally displayed.
Ave Maria Cathedral, Central Asmara, Liberation Avenue, Eritrea.Inside Ave Maria Cathedral, Asmara, Eritrea.
We then walked around back to the town’s main street to visit the impressive Ave Maria Cathedral, which unfortunately didn’t open to visitors until 3:00 pm. (We did return later and found it absolutely beautiful and impressive on the inside.) So we headed off to find a special area called Medeber, where used metals and items are recycled, turned into new things for sale. After much walking, getting a little lost, and asking people along the way, we found it and the effort was worth it. Men and women were industriously working on many projects, the women working on sorting dried chilis and the men creating new metal items for sale…donkey carts were available to rent for transporting goods. We stuck out like a sore thumb.
While friendly, most people didn’t want to talk to us long fearing that we were spies and that they would later be questioned. On the bus home, a nice looking, well dressed gentleman sat down with us. (BTW – we would never have been able to catch a bus back to Massawa without the help of our friend Abel. No one spoke English and the locals were so caught up in their own business, that they didn’t look out to help us…yet the beggars were all over us like flies.) The lightly bearded gentleman started up a conversation asking what were we doing in Eritrea. I responded, “We’re here as tourists, sailing around the world on our sailboat.” He spoke English well and wanted to see pictures. I pulled out my phone and filed through our years aboard. He then asked, “Where did you stay while in Asawa?” “At the Hamassien Hotel.” I replied. “Why did you stay there?” he asked. In all honesty I countered, “The biggest reason was the price and the fact that we didn’t bring enough cash because we thought we could pay with credit card. Also, we prefer to stay in the same room as our sons who are young to be alone in a foreign country.” “I see…” he concluded the conversation, “You’re sailing around the world and need to save money.” These questions and his response seemed a little too curious to me along with the fact that he looked rather ‘well-manicured’ and very well educated to be riding the cheap bus. Eric thinks I’m silly to have such thoughts. Perhaps. But they really didn’t like Bryce and Eric droning their Massawa memorials before traveling inland thinking we were reporters or something. After an altercation, one of the 5 men convinced the others that we are just tourists. Who knows? After that – authorities could have been more keen to watch us.
RigneysKandu touring Asmara city streets, Eritrea.
I’ll have to provision in Sudan as anything we could buy in Eritrea was extremely expensive and slim pickings, so I didn’t buy much. I bought just enough fresh provisions to get us by: a large cabbage, tomatoes, okra, dozen eggs, potatoes, onions, oranges and a large watermelon. We’ve been eating through our dried and canned provisions in a big way since leaving Malaysia in February where I had stocked up. India didn’t have much in canned foods although we did find boxed liquid milk – the boys are drinking a lot of milk these days. That’s long gone…powdered milk is it!
All in all, Eritrea felt restricted because Eritreans have become increasingly oppressed by their own government since their liberation from Ethiopia in 1991 after a 30-year war. Today, Eritreans are not allowed to leave the country between the ages of 5 and 65, nor are they allowed to engage in much self-industry. Private enterprise is discouraged….wouldn’t want anyone to earn more than another….so everyone remains poor…no incentive, no hope. It was a sobering experience to visit such a depressed and altogether dry and dusty country with little active industry even though the country itself has excellent natural resources and is located on the Red Sea. We did our best to wash the 6 days of dust off our boat before picking up anchor and were ready to move on. Before we lifted anchor, Immigration came aboard to check if we had any stowaways!
Our total stay in Eritrea was 6 days. I wrote this account while sailing from Eritrea to Suakin, North Sudan, where Eric’s brother Nick had already arrived to meet up with us. Our trip up the Red Sea from Massawa to Suakin took longer than expected. It was supposed to be 2.25 days and turned out to be 3 full days. The Red Sea’s seasonal wind was already coming from the north (we’re running late in the weather window) – thankfully it was a light counter wind. But with a 1.5 knot counter-current, we weren’t progressing by motor quickly. Kandu is a slower moving boat anyway.
May 16th, 2018 – I planned to post this letter to our website while in Suakin, Sudan, but our time there was too condensed and brief before I could sit down to do so. Much has happened since our days in Sudan, like Egypt, where we had an equally interesting time. We are now in Cyprus enjoying our last days hanging with Nick.
We have been learning so much about this part of the world and are grateful for the freedoms we enjoy in the US and as US citizens.
Our Very Best Wishes to you,
Leslie, Eric, Bryce and Trent
Small Eritrean village hovering above the bus on our way back to Port Massawa from Asmara, Eritrea.
The Bintan Sail Indonesia Rally 2017 Committee treated us to a couple special days sightseeing the area starting with a speed boat tour of the local Bintan mangroves. Entering deep into the forested areas, not only did we get to glimpse several coiled vipers sometimes directly overhead, Blue Kingfishers, and endemic Grey Herons, we saw up close the twisted mangrove tree roots that seem to morph into different shapes in front of your eyes.
Our guides then brought us to a previous tin mine, now tourist attraction, that boasted lovely visuals of aqua blue waters and an archery range where ‘the boys’ amused themselves. This tourist area also had our favorite local drink which seemed always to be available: fresh chilled coconut water cut open directly in front of you – a welcome healthy treat to quench our thirst countering the hot humidity.
Later that day included competitions celebrating a local festival: boat racing and kite flying. I enjoyed tremendously experiencing the locals being sportive and having fun.
Then wonderful local food was provided for us along the river front, which involved entertainment that I was prodded to participate in, all in good humor.
During our last day in Bintan, Indonesia, we got a chance to visit 500 Lohan Temple aka Vihara Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva, a Buddhist temple with 500 statues (arhats) representing the different transformations in male form of the Goddess Guan Yin, each one human-like, unique and different from the next. “Guan Yin or Avalokiteśvara is one of the most popular and well known female goddess in Asia and probably in the world. Guan Yin is the Bodhisattva of Great Compassion in Mahayana Buddhism and also worshiped by Taoists.” They actually refer to this temple as the temple of 1000 men as the original order from China was for 1000 statues, but they changed the order upon realizing they didn’t have enough land space to accomodate so many.
Our farewell dinner to Indonesia and the rally was over-the-top fun. During an outstanding local food buffet, we were once again entertained with beautifully costumed dancers. Eric was crowned with a special Malay hat for having spoken on behalf of the cruisers. After dinner, we were ushered to the beach-front where loud DJ music blasted out beats. We all danced to our hearts content, especially Trent who thought it was one of the best nights EVER. To top off the night, the entire beachfront was lined with tiki torches lit afire. Passed out to the crowd were paper lanterns to send off into the sky. Lighting the lanterns and letting them rise up into the dark night was truly magical. None of us had ever experienced such a unique wonder watching them float away over the ocean. It was a spectacular end to the Sail Indonesia Rally 2017. We left Indonesia having been wonderfully guided through the bountiful and colorful cultures of the country while being spoiled rotten by their generous hospitality. We couldn’t have had a more enriching experience if we had tried to visit Indonesia without the guidance of the rally.
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.
Sunday, March 25th 2018 11:17 am – 16th day at sea having left Cochin, India on Saturday March 10th.
We’re slowly but steadily making our way through the Gulf of Aden. Up until yesterday over the Arabian Sea, we’ve had a marvelous sedate ride traveling the Indian Ocean: motoring, gently sailing, motor-sailing. These last 4 days we’ve been just motoring. Only this morning the wind picked-up and we’re downwind sailing – the wind is behind.
Movie night starting at Sunset.
On Kandu, as with most sailing boats, downwind sailing is restless, uncomfortable business. After enjoying idyllic sea going for the first 15 days, rolling from side to side, rocking 30-40 degrees, sails filling and luffing, the movement is disconcerting and mind numbing. Stored food items bang around in their lockers while the clicking and clacking of the main and staysail add to the cacophony of sound. How can one think? And the crazy part was I had plenty of time to write and prepare the state and federal income tax returns before the incessant movement began – yet I didn’t. Somehow even in the calm, I couldn’t focus and center my thoughts. Perhaps we all needed some brain and body downtime from all the work accomplished in Malaysia, the massive cultural differences experienced in these latest countries, the fast-tracked sightseeing in India, and then the preparations for departure for 23 days across the historically notorious pirate infested waters of the Gulf of Aden.
Now after 16 days at sea when all the fresh fruits and veggies have been consumed and life aboard is rather exhausting because it’s impossible to sleep well for all the movement, it seems I can focus my thoughts. Silliness I know. Perhaps I can attribute it to a couple things: the fact that I’ve had enough mental rest, and the other, the heightened insecurity of having entered the High Risk Area (HRA) which is forcing me to be diligent and thoughtful. We’re sailing on the southern edge of the shipping corridor…closer to Somalia than Yemen. Yemen is presently in civil war. Six weeks ago, Yemenese soldiers tried to close the strait between the Red Sea and the Gulf of Aden. We heard before leaving India that their efforts to control the international shipping lanes endured about 2 hours before international navy warships “scared them off,” whatever that really means.
Every hour on the VHF radio Channel 16 since we entered the Gulf of Aden we hear:
“Securité, Securité, Securité
All ships, all ships, all ships:
Please contact the war force coalition (31 countries) on Channel 16, of suspicion or illegal activity.”
Every morning a coalition war force navy plane circles overhead and contacts us to make sure we’re well. This a.m. it was a Japanese voice that hailed us directly, by our vessel’s name, and announced that the surrounding waters were clear of all boats (suspicious fishing boats). The day before, we had experienced a fishing boat and 3 skiffs approaching us within 1 mile. The mother ship stopped right in front of our path. We contacted the war coalition on VHF. I hailed them three times while getting no answer until in the heat of the moment, I added that we were “under attack.” Eric proceeded to change our course 180 degrees motoring full-speed at 2200 rpm away to see if they’d follow. It turns out that the fishing boats did not follow. The war coalition couldn’t hear our initial hails. When a closer merchant ship heard we were under attack, it relayed the message to the warship coalition. Eric explained to them that we were not under attack after all. Still, they wanted to know our position and details; they even sent the naval aircraft overhead to check on us. It was reported as a non-incident. I felt quite foolish, the excitement of the moment having gotten to my head.
The day after that incident, having experienced positive results, brought a sense of security due to the coalition’s dominating presence in the area and the additional piracy deterrent: the weather. Wind and seas increased making it difficult for skiffs to travel over the sea’s surface. These factors combined, our worry over pirate threat dramatically lessoned since entering the Gulf. Perhaps this lessoning of worry is what is allowing me to focus my prevailing thoughts: thoughts that have been swirling about my head these past months.
Thoughts such as: “Why are we traveling on a sailboat engaged in this around the world trip?” “What purpose is it serving?” Answers to those two questions are constantly changing. Most of the time, I find our travels with the boys are serving well. Other times, like in this moment, after spending 16 days at sea, as if standing still in time, I wonder “What’s it all about?” (That’s to be sung to the pop tune!! Haha)
Other questions that I have been chewing on during this passage in particular: What does this navy warship coalition think of our decision to sail in the HRA (High Risk Area) Gulf of Aden and Red Sea maritime corridor, and what does the UKMTO (United Kingdom Maritime Trade Operations) with whom we’re regularly sending position reports think? Are we a nuisance or are the coalition and this incredible maritime protection community happy to protect all seafarers in the quest to allow world freedom of travel and commerce in the betterment of international trade and understanding? Are these just high-minded thoughts? Probably. However, I like to think that if the American belief of “freedom of speech” is a right, it follows that the “freedom to travel” is also a right. After all, a couple thousand years ago, the Romans worked very hard to create roads and to protect those roads to allow safe travel through their territories. Most certainly, there are risks when engaging in both practices. Are these freedoms ‘rights’ or ‘privileges?’ Either way, they constantly need to be protected, even when it’s uncomfortable, expensive and unpopular to do so.
Bryce Rigney presenting his Eagle Dive off the bow.Trent Rigney jumping into the Gulf of Aden.
On one of the becalmed days of this passage, Bryce and I were together on the front deck. Looking out over the expanse of glassy waters, a light haze permeated the sky such that the horizon opposite the setting sun was undistinguishable. The color was so unusual: a very light purple-blue hovering closest to the water and a mauve to pink coloration closer to the sky—a magically serene moment. Thousands of schooling fish were running on the surface likely being pursued by predators…sunset is the best hour to catch fish, evidently known by the fishworld too. Individual trails of water marked the individual fleeing fish. In every direction we looked, we could identify large schools of these fleeing fish interrupting the mirror quality of the sea – the activity continuing on past sunset’s lingering light. Mesmerized, Bryce and I shared this delicious moment of wonder and peace, quietly chatting together in awe of the wondrous spectacle of nature playing out, seemingly just for our benefit. If we didn’t have the freedom to travel, this moment would never have been.
Life Aboard on long passages – a stream of thought…
One evening during our passage across the Indian Ocean/Arabian Sea, I popped up into the cockpit from under the cabin, from the galley where I was cooking dinner, and looked forward over the ocean towards the descending sun. The sun was fluorescent orange, radiating intense color. The ocean glistened dazzlingly like I’d never seen before in shades of gold, silver and opalescent blue. It reminded me of a book I read that said we on earth see things through hazy lenses. If we were to remove those glasses, we’d see that everything on earth including ourselves is sparkling and scintillating with energy. In that moment, I felt a little outside myself witnessing that magnificent, brilliant beauty.
The four of us have been occupying our time differently – sometimes together, other times independently. We come together in the morning to eat breakfast if I make something special. Today is so bumpy that we independently ate cereal and milk. In the late afternoon or early evening, we assemble together in the cockpit to share linner (lunch/dinner) or dinner over conversation and to enjoy the coolness under the setting sun.
Trent and Eric Rigney furling in the Genoa.
Eric spends a great deal of time communicating with our InReach Satellite texting system. He follows the weather, sends UKMTO position updates, posts to our RigneysKandu FB account and catches up with family and friends. Text-chatting with friends seems his hobby. Of course, he is regularly busy captaining our space/water vessel making sure we’re on course, that the engine and fuel are in order, making water, setting & trimming sails, etc. He’s been working with the boys on writing a paper about designing an act of civil disobedience, inspired by our visit to Malaysia and especially India and our study of Gandhi. We are all working on new vocabulary words. Today is a test on comprehension and spelling.
Trent Rigney boatschooling.
Bryce, Eric, and I are enjoying downtime watching episodes of the popular British television series, “Downton Abby,” sometimes together, but mostly independently during our night watches. We discuss together the characters, plot development, historical significance, English aristocracy, the World Wars, editing, acting styles, etc. . . . much food for discussion. Trent has been watching a video that my parents bought for us to improve one’s “mental math.” He’s been working those techniques into his math skills.
Yesterday, Eric and I finally showered after several days. The night before, I could hardly sleep against my own stench. Showering is a bit of work. We have a shower inside, but it is currently utilized as our large item storage locker harboring our Hookah air compressor, two folding bicycles, extra life jackets and other bulky items. So, we shower outside on the poop deck where a large cooler is stored and acts as a seat. When it’s windy, the experience can be very refreshing. The shower water is warm if the engine has been running. And, of course the boat is rocking. We sit lightly atop the cooler and wash positioning our feet in such a way as not to slip on the soapy, slippery deck. The boys go down below when I shower. I go down below when they shower. Only Eric has the luxury of not caring who’s showering or if he’s showering. We are all careful with the use of water as it takes hours and precious gasoline to convert salt-water to fresh with our reverse osmosis desalinator. Yesterday, two large ships were motoring at full speed past our starboard side as I was showering. They were a minimum of 4 miles away but I wondered if anyone aboard had binoculars – our lovely colorful gennaker was flying. Someone might have enjoyed a couple shows.
Bryce and Trent often say to me these days “Mom, you’re so small.” I reckon that’s their way of telling me they love me because it’s said in such a loving way and often accompanied by a squeeze or hug. Or perhaps they’re pleased with their growth spurts. Either way, as small as the boat is, we find ways to be kind to one another. We also find ways to carve out our own space. Half a day might go by and I won’t have spoken or related to one or any of them.
Bryce and Trent Rigney: Kandu Crew!
Passage life makes one lethargic. Accomplishing something is by shear will of spirit. We all try to be complimentary to each other and outright thankful when one of us has completed a necessary but challenging task (everything is challenging when the boat is rocking even 10 degrees): making water, transferring diesel, raising the gennaker, jibing, cooking, washing dishes, vacuuming, doing homework, etc. Watching movies is the easiest thing to do. Even reading can be difficult. By being outwardly thankful to one another, it’s our way of encouraging and being encouraged…even taking a shower gets praise!
Kandu making it’s way through the Gulf of Aden.
During my ‘study time,’ I’ve been dividing my interests into learning the geography and world history of the areas we have recently seen and are soon to visit: Indonesia, Malaysia, India, Somalia, Eritrea, Ethiopia, Sudan, Egypt, and Israel. The depth of ancient political and religious diversity and trade is so profound. It’s no surprise these countries struggle to find themselves and prosper. In North and South America, the indigenous cultures were basically destroyed and/or blended by force, and the colonial enforced languages (English, Spanish, Portuguese, French) dominate their modern communications. Although more are spoken, there are 23 languages officially declared in India, each protecting special long-standing cultural traditions. But if an Indian wants to communicate widely, English is their go-to language. Ashamedly, I thought most East Indians spoke English, but only the higher educated actually speak some English. A similar situation exists in Indonesia and to a lesser degree in Malaysia where Bahasa is considered the official language. Various dialects of Bahasa make communicating widely difficult…so many Malaysians prefer to speak their local village tongues and then English. Some we met speak only English.
In the US and Canada, cultures are allowed to thrive. However, looking in from afar, I see that through our mass-education system and the media, we are brainwashed, which isn’t always a bad thing. By such a process, we have a more homogeneous society, blending traditions and religions together. Recognizing our similarities is the key, trying to understand each other’s cultures, being forgiving, accepting and especially being open-minded. Of course, problems pervade. The fear-based human condition of greed and cruelty is challenging to conquer.
My other, for lack of a better term, ‘hobby,’ or interest, is soul-searching spirituality. During our passages, lacking television plus other distractions, I have been reading a myriad of historical religious, but mostly spiritual related books: “Great Lion of God” by Taylor Caldwell about Apostle Paul, “Harlot By the Side of the Road” uncovering and explaining hidden biblical scripture by Jonathan Kirsch, “Siddartha” by Herman Hesse – read after we visited the Buddhist temple Borobudur in Indonesia. “The Story of Mohammed” by Harry Richardson a disturbing book which Eric read to me about the beginnings of Islam, “The Good Earth” by Pearl S. Buck that all four of us read and studied together, “World Without End” by Ken Follett about English middle ages and the Catholic Church, “Bridge Across Forever” by Richard Bach regarding a soul-mate couple that struggles to understand and to bring out the best in one another spiritually. Most importantly, a friend suggested that I read “Journey of Souls” by Michael Newton and “Same Souls, Many Bodies” by Brian Weiss.
These two latter books have answered so many of my questions about life’s purpose on earth, collective thought, quantum physics, existence after death, our soul’s earthly struggles, and the pervading message of: living on earth together in peace and sharing the planet healthfully while learning, teaching, and understanding each other. Love, kindness, generosity, compassion, forgiveness, anger-management, empathy, patience, free-will, open-mindedness, inner-contemplation, prayer, meditation and spiritual connectedness – these concepts have been utmost in my own learning.
“The past is history; the future, a mystery. Today’s a gift, that’s why it’s called the ‘present.’”
With all this soul-searching, I remain at a loss as to what I’m to do when we return home. I’m certain to continue to be involved in music, making and teaching, plus of course, helping the boys to achieve their educational goals. I’ve decided that I want to be more politically active in legislation regarding environmental issues, and gun control, and religion. Plus, both Eric and I will need to return to work . . . perhaps more travel once we’ve financially recovered. In any case, it’s a mystery. Appreciation of what we’re doing right now is paramount. We don’t want to miss experiences and possibilities presented in the moment. Even during these active travels, complacency abounds and the draw of comfort is all too real: escaping into sleep, losing self in games and/or movies (entertainment), not exercising, becoming irritable and picky, and a general failing to be grateful for the opportunities, beauty, protection and love that surrounds us. In our little space capsule on the open ocean – alone to ourselves – there is so much beauty and there are so many lessons to learn if one choses to be present and aware.
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.
Arrived to this harbor
Get your Chicken!
Marketplace goodies
Dried fish
Eric charming the police!
Police goodwill
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.
Oct 2 2017 – Sailing to Belitung. AIS transponders are required by Indonesia of all cruising sailboats, but by int’l maritime law, they cannot require it of us. Some cruisers only have receivers. No penalties are imposed. Ironically most Indonesian commercial fishing, freighter, ferries, cargo, tugs & barges do not transmit their location over AIS, something that is required by int’l maritime law. They are invisible to our receivers, a fact that keeps our watches more vigilant. Fortunately they carry the proper lights and are visible to radar. Oct 9 2017 – Had another spectacular & generous visit, this time on Belitung island. 2 day tours: first day driving West, the other East. Busses, guides, catered meals, shows, cultural expositions, dance, Chinese lions show, museums, religious centers and temples, unique geological features, local specialty coffee cafes w/ amazing singer & interesting introductions to unusual animal life. Best of all: the local people.
‘We Kandu’ participates in the events when possible.
Belitung Chinese Temple
Bryce taking it seriously!
Eric & Bryce canning eachother
Entrance Chinese Temple
Chinese Temple door decoration
Chinese Temple Alter
Lion guarding Chinese Temple
We are treated like superstars: press coverage & interviews, honored guests, front row seats, personal guides & interpreters, and always the screaming school girls seeking B&T’s photos & contact info on Instagram.
Bryce and Trent at the center of Indonesia’s best!
The anchorage is extraordinarily beautiful, with gorgeous rock formations that the boys enjoyed jumping off and filming.
Leslie kept receiving compliments on her Polynesian palm frond hat that she made in the Marquesas, so gave two classes on how to make them to the locals. The tour bureau even published an article on their site about it.
We leave Belitung today w/Nick who arrived here yesterday. Ketawai is our next stop: 3 days on an isolated island with all meals provided as well as a shuttle boat over to tour the neighboring large island, bordering Sumatra. After that will be Bintan, then Malaysia.
Sept 30 2017 7:12 am – Fab 3d trip up jungle river, close up viewing of wild endemic apes, macaque monkeys, Proboscis monkeys, birds of all sorts especially hornbills, reptiles, insects, & plants. Inland excursions day & night to witness scheduled and much anticipated Orangutans feasting on bananas and milk at the feeding stations. We traveled, ate, & slept aboard 3-decker Borneo river boat w/ Captain, guide, cook, & 2 deck hands which meant we did little but enjoy the experience. Went with 2 couples from 2 boats, so 8 of us. No cooking – food and drinks provided. Another 2 yachtie couples rented a smaller river boat for their 5. We buddy boated up & down the river. Smaller boats maneuver better. Saw many boats with just a couple on board. Recommend the experience highly. The key is a good guide w/strong English, or you miss half of the education and things you can/might see.
Tanjung Putting National Park
We went w/Mr. Bain. His guide, Usup (like YOU-soup) is great. Cost 2M rupiah ($180) pp all expenses included. We booked only 2 days in advance. Celebrated Trent’s 14th on board, rafted to other boat, tied off Eco Lodge dock. 1 sailor had toured western Amazon during rainy season said Amazon had much more life. We’re in the dry season, & the park is smaller. But he thought the Tanjung Puting National Park was fantastic & thoroughly enjoyed the different and truly extraordinary wildlife. Took lots and lots of pics.
Bryce anticipating our movement into Sekonyer River.
Entrance statude to Tanjung Puting Nat’l Park
SV Ocelot and Grand Cru stopped to gawk at male orangutan. We joined in too!
Orangutan male isolated in the jungle
Rare sight to see proboscus monkeys swimming in fright.
Two male proboscis monkeys
Young female proboscis monkey
Leslie Rigney catching a glimpse of a female proboscis monkey and baby.
Dominant male proboscis monkey.
Upclose view of female proboscis monkey and baby.
Male Proboscis Leader watching over his group
Guide made Leslie a fern hat .
Playing Uchre
DCIM105GOPRO
We plan to sail tomorrow if we can repair mainsail furler. If not, will limp along with trysail instead until we can get to a place where we can repair it. Not the end of the world. Just means we travel a touch slower.
BTW: Nick Rigney is scheduled to join us on the 8th. Woohoo!
Sept 30 2017 13:48 – Repaired the furler. Transferred fuel from port to stbd tank. All is well. Decided to leave earlier for Belitung. Must go slowly. Less than 4.5 kts over 300 nm to arrive at daylight 10/3, 3 days Anchored. Squalls, lightning, countercurrent, & headwind suggested to me that we anchor the night & start first light, WITH the elements. So happy with our decision to wait out the storm!
Wild male orangutan in Tanjung Puting National Park, Kalimantan, Indonesia.
For more Indonesia Orangutan photos, visit our photo gallery!
Upon arriving at the Borobudur Buddhist Temple entrance, we hired a Borobudur guide to enjoy and understand more what we were seeing as we climbed and strolled the ancient temple and the grounds museum. It was a spectacular visit learning about Siddhartha, the incarnate God. His life story is portrayed chronologically in the ancient rock panels of the temple as you walk around and up each level.
After walking back to our simple hotel, we hired a car and driver for the next 48 hours. He first drove us to another smaller temple where Buddhist pilgrims used to change clothing & worshiped before walking to the main Borobudur temple.
Indonesian goat brochettes – Yum Yum!
We lunched at a local cafe where no tourists go, enjoying goat brochettes & goat curry stew (regional favorites).
He then drove us to our meeting point for our river rafting adventure, a wonderful 2.5 hour playful journey down the river with about 10 other boats from various other raft companies.
The trip included a drinking coconut & local snacks at the halfway point. All along the way we had fun splashing & being splashed by other boats, and posing for pictures with groups from other boats.
Bryce Rigney, Trent Rigney, Natalia Ptasinska, Wojciech Maleika, Eric & Leslie Rigney taking a coconut break during river rafting.
At the conclusion of our energetic excursion we were hosted to a simple Javanese dinner, something we had not expected, but was included in the rafting package. The unexpected meal meant we needed to postpone seeing our third Buddhist Temple, the first of the three that were traditionally visited during an ancient Borobudur pilgrimage, until tomorrow. It was from this unplanned dinner that we headed off to photograph the Borobudur sunset & found ourselves in the midsts of our own celebrity/paparazzi experience.
Our last stop on our first full day in Borobudur was to be a higher end restaurant with a great sunset view of the temple & home of the sleeping Buddha statue. Just to take pictures, we arrived & the place was packed w/an event & special security. We snuck in just to catch some sunset photos of the temple when the owner approached us. I guess we were a bit conspicuous. He explained how this was a very important event hosting the nation’s minister of national businesses.
The woman pictured in front is the Head of National Business in Indonesia!
We had just finished white water rafting, so the six of us, including Natalia and Bolo, weren’t dressed our best. I apologized & said we would leave immediately. On the contrary, he was so delighted to have “bule” (European/Caucasian) tourists with which to put on display, that he & his bank officials begged us to join their ministry officials for dinner and their evening events, and would we please pose for press photos with the minister.
View from our vantage point looking out over the news media and guests.
Well how could I refuse, so we engaged. I didn’t have time to explain to the others of my party what was going on, I just insisted they play along with me. Once photos & newscasters were done where we posed behind the ministers, we were ushered to a special sunset dining area with various appetizers & beverages. An Indonesian Sarsaparilla soft drink was offered. They thought we wouldn’t like it. When I told the boys it was root beer, we drank all the ones at our table and that of the empty table next to us. Our Polish friends said it tasted like medicine, so more for us! Our hosts were delighted by our enthusiastic desire to try all their dishes, and pleased by our great approval.
When 7 girls & their dance teacher began to demonstrate for the invited guests their traditional dance, our event guide suggested we join them. To their surprise & delight, we did! Leslie followed me, & soon so did Bolo, our Polish friend. We all did our very best to honor their dance, and the affect was as if we had practiced. As the girls gracefully walked off stage, Bolo & I ended with an impromptu dossie-doe finale. The crowd giggled & applauded. We thanked the girls for allowing us to participate, exclaiming how beautiful they were via hand gestures and vocal tone.
While we were dancing, Natalia, Bolo’s girlfriend, played a middle-eastern game with some young people, a game she had learned in Turkey, and won! We were offered cups of their special coffee, the most expensive in the world, as the digested beans are recovered from the scat of a cat-like animal, cleaned, dried, & roasted. Coffee in Indonesia is served with the fine grounds in the cup.
Leslie Rigney in front of drying Lewak Coffee
Dried coffee unwashed Lewak scat.
Live Lewak, much like a cat, a little like a raccoon. This one allowed us to pet it.
This is the type of serendipitous, surreal events we experience on a regular basis, but have difficulty sharing. These events aren’t well captured in photos & are too complex to describe in a short Facebook posting. We don’t have time to write up and post quickly on our blog such events, especially w/limited Internet access. Well that night was the cherry on a spectacular day of touring Borobudur temple in the temple region of Central Java, Indonesia.
We later read how Indonesia’s economy plummeted 2yrs ago. I’m guessing the gov’t is working to develop tourism to attract foreign revenue. American tourists are rare in Indonesia. I suppose parading a real-live US tourist in front of one’s minister demonstrates how effective a business person or official is at attracting tourist revenue streams. This is my guess. I also learned that Indonesians have a class structure. To have photographs of oneself with a white person elevates one’s status among their family & friends. The affect on us is fun, surreal, sometimes annoying and a bit perplexing as to why anyone would care about us in this way. But we play along because it makes them so happy, and it sometimes makes for an extraordinary experience we’ll never forget. Sorry for the long text string, but I had time on my watch, and thought you might be interested in one of our crazy experiences. Eric
Sept 20, 2017 Hello Dear Shannon – I love it that you wrote me to tell how things are going back in Ventura, California!
It was a fabulous piece of fortuitousness that we got to meet up in Sydney over the X-mas and New Year’s holidays (2016). I have great memories watching your daughter Hazel feed the koalas and wallabies, all of us eating together in downtown Sydney, and then having Charlie hang out overnight with Trent and Bryce. They were so happy together. Truly a magnificent X-mas gift for BnT!
The boys enjoy very much keeping in touch with Charlie through Instagram. Per what you said – high school seems to be working out for him. Terrific to hear how he’s doing in waterpolo. I really wanted that for BnT, but alas, there are a lot of things they are missing out on – their junior high and high school years. I just hope that what they are experiencing with us will work out well for them in the long run. So many people say what we’re doing is the BEST education our boys could experience – yet as a mother, I worry.
This last week here in Indonesia has been full of beautiful and arresting sights and experiences. For a reward due to all their hard work on the boat, BnT and I as chaperone headed down on a five hour drive to the southern section of Bali to catch some great internationally renowned surf (Ulu Watu and Padang Padang) staying in a hostel on the beach for four nights while Eric remained with Kandu in Lovina at the top end of Bali.
Trent and Bryce Rigney heading down to the Pedang Pedang Beach to surf Bali’s legendary waves in Indonesia sporting their Robert’s surfboards from Ventura.
While we were away, Eric had fun cleaning out our water tank of dead cockroaches. Not! The surfing was terrific – the boys’ hearts and bodies were full of peace & happiness from their exertions – I too enjoyed special quiet time not having to follow orders, clean, and cook. I read my book: Blue Lagoon – a free classic kindle download that was made famous by the child star Brooke Shields. Truly fabulous read and made all the more special since I was reading it with the sounds of tropical ocean waves crashing ashore. Wow!
The night of our return marked the opening of the Lovina 2017 Festival. The Sail Indonesia fleet was invited for a Regent hosted dinner and then treated to a fabulous parade of local talent from the neighbouring villages, including drum troops, theatre like skits with masked performers, bamboo basket craft displays and a child marching band that was conducted by a young girl! The evening concluded with a professional troop of 12 Balinese female dancers enacting a beautiful and complex dance in traditional costume. It was truly spectacular!
The next day, leaving the boat for five days, Eric and I decided to end our pest problem once and for all by setting-off three roach bombs inside the closed boat. The poisonous air was so fierce that the four of us hastily escaped to catch a 17 hour bus ride (including a ride on a water ferry) west to Yogyakarta on Java Island for four days to visit the impressive Buddhist temple Borobudur and Hindu temple Prambanan both built in the 9th century. Our boat buddies Bolo and Natalia from s/v Wassyl joined us in the fun excursion.
24 hour busride to Central Java including a ferry ride.
The two temples were constructed nearby each other around the same time in competition (Borobudur was completed around 825 and Prombanan was completed in 850) and then 150 years after construction was completed, both experienced extreme damage by huge volcanic earthquakes and consequently were covered by thick ash due to the subsequent enormous eruption by the local Mt. Merapi volcano. The survivors left the surrounding area due to the bad soil quality – farmers could no longer grow food in the acidic ash environment. 150 years or so later, the environment became increasingly hospitable, but by that time, with no written records, the incredible temples were mostly buried until local Indonesians revealed their existence to British ruler of Java, Sir Thomas Stamford around 1814. Renovation was instigated by the Dutch colonisers in the late 1800’s, but the largest restoration project for Borobudur was between 1975-1982 by the Indonesian government, mostly funded by UNESCO.
Siddhartha needed a head!
Borobudur is the world’s largest single-structure Buddhist temple decorated with 2,672 carved panels and 504 Buddha statues – more than half of those are missing their heads. With a tour guide, we walked the incredible structure and learned by study of the panels about the early life of Siddhartha. Cool!
Hindu Prombenan of Central Java finished in 850 CE.
The restauration of Prombenan, the largest Hindu temple in Indonesia was started in 1918 by the Dutch. They began with the centermost and largest temple which is dedicated to Shiva and finished the one in 1953. Once the first puzzle was solved, the other 8 god temples were then reconstructed. Of the surrounding 225 priest temples, just three have been reconstructed. The two temples and grounds are truly wonders to see and visit. Both sites are incredible in their stature, intricate carvings, symbolism and holiness.
Straight away, we visited Yogyakarta’s Sultan’s Palace to witness their special puppet shows: Wayang Kulit. The puppets help maintain oral history and also recount stories like Ramayana – which is the one we witnessed. The action is extremely slow accompanied by music – interesting for about 1/2 hour. We didn’t stay until the end, but headed off for a visit of the palace filled with historical significance and artifacts.
Wayang Kulit puppet show
Special Sultan Palace Guards.
Were Indonesian Sultans the inspiration for Spock?
Museum Interior of Sultan’s Palace.
Sultan’s Palace Courtyard
Last night we ended our stay in the colourful Sultan ruled Yogyakarta by enjoying the famous Javanese ballet, Ramayana, about Rama and Sinta, a Hindu “Romeo and Juliet” type tale. It was terrific to witness in person their highly stylised movements and to hear the live Javanese classical style singing and orchestra. I loved every moment of the hour and 1/2 performance and could follow along the story pretty well after having read the synopsis. The boys were a little less enthusiastic, yet they seem to be absorbing quite a lot about the Indonesian culture, growing to appreciate it more and more.
It was 24hr local bus ride to return to Bali from Yogyakarta with a 30-min inclusive dinner stop: rice, fried flattened tofu something, fresh vegetable soup, various chicken parts in flavorful sweet Indonesian kecup sauce, chili paste, shrimp chips, and sweet hot or iced tea. Excellent! After that it was only 10 hrs to go with a loud kung fu movie all in Bahasa! The traffic back was terrible and running very late, the driver was a crazy man honking and darting around scooters. It was miracle he didn’t hit one. Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride!
Our luxury bus back to Bali. Huge compared to a scooter, right?
Before sailing here, I didn’t have any particular expectations of what we would discover except perhaps a bit of exotic asiatic influence. Indeed, the culture is asiatic as are the faces and smaller, generally lean bodies. Bryce and Trent are considered tall, as am I for a woman! LOL! Our last six weeks traveling from east to west have been full of amazing discoveries involving this country’s vast physical beauty and mixed yet well integrated cultures. If you didn’t know, Indonesia is 80% Muslim with the greatest number of Muslims living on Java, Sumatra Lombok and Sumbawa. The outlying eastern islands tend to be mostly Christian (Timor, Alor, Flores, Komodo, Rinja). Bali is Hindu with some Buddhist. I don’t know the statistics of Borneo, but I suspect it is predominantly Muslim.
Women everywhere you look have their hair covered except in Bali. When motoring on scooters, their colourful head & upper body coverings trail behind them, while the lower half is clothed in skin tight skinny jeans – an odd juxtaposition I must say….in the more conservative areas, we all wear long pants and I cover my shoulders and arms. I sometimes wear my red floppy hat, but in temples we’re instructed to remove hats. A little confusing considering the head coverings worn by the women. FYI – 35% of scooter drivers wear masks over their nose and mouth to protect against the carbon & burning plastic pollution. I find myself regularly sneezing and congested.
Young Indonesian woman transporting onions on her scooter in her skinny jeans and flip flops.
It is not at all scary here. We find the people generous, kind, modest, happy, and much less encumbered by stuff – although everyone has a phone! (The middle aged and older population tend to have a lot of missing teeth.) The most favoured shoes are thongs even when riding scooters. Scooters are everywhere with sometimes four people hanging on or a small kitchenette restaurant attached. I’m glad not to be driving myself.
BTW – the food is tasty albeit spicy. Much smaller portions than in the states: lots of tofu and rice. Meat is available but more like a supplement or flavor additive than a mainstay. Prices for us are fortunately inexpensive, however, bargaining is necessary to get the inexpensive prices! Outside the prominent sightseeing structures, kitch is everywhere for sale with hagglers holding up souvenirs and following you down the street to encourage you to buy.
Rice fields are a constant vision, along with some corn and tobacco crops. We are experiencing arid heat during this dry season; it’s hot and dusty. The cities are mostly cement block houses and buildings sometimes colourfully painted. There are few sidewalks, predominantly two lane highways except in busy highway type thoroughfares where there are two lanes on each side. Like England, you drive on the left side of the street – or as they say here: the “correct” side. The overall look of most city areas is rather dirty, unkempt with crowded conditions. Plastic trash can be seen everywhere especially on undeveloped lots and in riverbeds. Sailing the waters, we see plastic trash regularly floating on the surface. We worry about our prop getting tangled by plastic bags and nets.
Well – that is a lot more than I bet you expected to read. But since you mentioned that you are interested in traveling here to Indonesia someday, I thought I’d write a bit more about our insights and experiences. Big hugs to you, Leslie.
Oh – almost forgot – in Central Java one day near Borobudur we had the most incredible time cooling off and rafting down the local river in the very capable hands of Mendut Rafting with our travel buddies Natalia and Bolo from s/v Wassyl. It’s one of Bryce and Trent’s favorite foreign adventures so far!
Bryce Rigney, Trent Rigney, Natalia Ptasinska, Wojciech Maleika, Eric & Leslie Rigney taking a coconut break during river rafting.
On one side, they displayed images of native animals that had once thrived amongst the lands. The other side depicted soldiers raising up the new national flag to mark their independence in 1991. I asked to borrow his treasures for a minute so I could interest my mom sitting a few steps above with what I had discovered. At the time I hadn’t a clue that they were of no value. In exchange for a couple of 1’s and 5’s I gave him a 10 Nakfa bill, which would most certainly be spent on his dinner that night. It was obvious from his big smile that he was delighted. Before continuing his walk, in broken English he informed me that the dates of the coins were manufactured in 1991 and tried to explain their original values. Then he proceeded down the sidewalk and blended in amongst the busy paths of other pedestrians.
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