Tag Archives: Leslie Dennis Rigney

Mohammedia Docking, Clearance & Casablanca Sights Sept 2018

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

September 17, 2018

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maroc Telecom Sim

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

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

Leslie’s brief Facebook excerpt:

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

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

 

Travels after Sudan….Where are RigneysKandu?

After Sudan, we were on a whirlwind tour of Egypt, Israel, and Europe. Not much has been posted on the blog site since then. The three of us – myself, Eric and Bryce – plan to rectify that, posting articles recounting more detail than revealed in our postings on Facebook about the many  extraordinary adventures of the last 5 months. BTW – if you don’t know, Kandu is down to 3 as Trent returned to California to attend high school. He is living with Uncle Nick Rigney in Calabasas.

Trent Rigney in Alsace, France

August 29, 2018

Dear Sara and family,

I have been thinking of you since we were in Spain wishing I had become more fluent in Spanish like you. Unfortunately, we didn’t spend any time in Spain outside Barcelona, darn it! Just had 90 days to visit the Schengen countries (The Schengen agreement among most of the European Union countries grants visitors a 90 day tourist visa…if not European, then you only qualify for a 90 day visitor’s visa out of 180…3 months within a 6-month period. Turkey, Croatia, Cyprus, England, Gibraltar are not part of Schengen.) It’s just as well, because our bank book is quite depleted. It’s been very expensive traveling and docking the boat in Europe west of Greece. We sailed past the lower boot of Italy bee-lining it to Pompeii – one of my bucket list sights.

Cyprus Roman amphitheater dating 100 AD

Eric and I had never been to Rome or Venice. Having the boys with us, it was a must to make efforts to hit the bigger sites. Maybe another day, we’ll get a chance to explore more of Italy as I really fell in love with that country, full of ancient wealth and history.

Interior St Peter’s Basilica

Actually Paris this time for us was not as mesmerizing as it has usually been in previous visits and stays. Perhaps it’s because we were generously put up by a friend in the suburbs of Paris and it took almost 90 minutes to get into the city, making early morning and late night strolls a little more challenging. Oh well. Not to mention the hoards and hoards of summer tourists swarming the big sites, and the heat. I don’t remember previously visiting Paris in the summer.

I haven’t had a chance to write on our blog much since making Egypt. Now that we have a bit of time to breath having exited out of the Schengen territories, we can enact repairs on the boat and record more details of our explorations.

In Bruge, Belgium with Ron and Rosie Dennis and Sian, Lara and Elena Demande.
Thierry and Clara Robert, Ron and Rosie and RigneysKandu touring around Huy, Belgium.

Most recently, we had a wonderful 6 weeks with my parents. Via extended invitations from our dear Belgium and French friends, we were able to introduce the boys and my folks to European living in many forms and to visit extraordinary sights and places like the picturesque & unforgettably charming wine villages along the Rhine in the Alsatian province. Eric and I had been to Alsace a couple times before, visiting with friends, but we had never explored the region: Colmar, Strasbourg, nor the wine trail villages. It’s no wonder why this region bordering Germany has been under contention for 100’s of years between France and Germany…it’s rich in valuable resources: hard working “Protestant type work-ethic” people and rich land for agriculture. The Strasbourg Cathedral housed the most incredible astronomical working clock we’d ever seen.

Together, we also had time to visit some bordering areas/towns of Alsace including Baden Baden on the frontier of Germany – extremely wealthy boasting a lovely old fort that we hiked during the rain, and Luxembourg – which is clean clean clean, with a picturesque old town, fort, huge city walls and gorgeous Catholic churches. Of course, all through Cyprus, Greece, Italy, Belgium, France, Monaco and Barcelona, we visited churches, Basilicas, and Cathedrals ad nauseum. I loved it all….the boys were definitely done with the typical city offerings except the most spectacular ones such as St Peter’s Basilica in Rome, The Duomo in Florence, Versaille in France, and The Sagrada Familia by Gaudi in Barcelona. In Chartres Cathedral, France, the inside has recently been painted white to enhance the otherwise dire interior, but most specially the organist played for about 20 minutes, which for me, was magical.

We’ve enjoyed so many other incredible country spectaculars: art museums, Napoleon history, war memorials and museums about WWI and WWII, plus many ancient sites, valuable and palatable history lessons for us all.

Truly truly spectacular traveling which I hope to write about more fully on our blog now that we are moving at a more leisurely pace.

We and Kandu are now in Gibraltar harbored in Queensway Quay Marina. Trent, our youngest at 14 returned to California from Barcelona to live with Uncle Nick and started school August 23rd  in Calabasas. Happily, he made the volleyball team. He is thrilled to be back home and excited to get academically serious. He’s extremely motivated. Bryce (16) flew solo to London last Friday night, visiting a good friend that he met in Athens.

Bryce is staying the 6 days with a dear friend of ours who is working on the next Spiderman movie currently filming in London. Bryce is exploring the city historical sites, skateboarding along the way.

Once Bryce returns, we’ll finish the remaining maintenance and repairs and sail off to Morocco, a two day sail, leaving Sept 3 to Mohammedia to visit Casablanca, Morocco. Then we’ll sail further south to Agadir to work on the boat a bit more and hopefully find some good surf for Bryce after almost a year of circumstantial abstinence. We plan to depart Agadir on Oct 1st for a two day sail to the Canary Islands (7-day stop, Columbus’s last before setting off to our New World), the Cape Verde Islands to restock (8-day sail), find a bit more surfing for Bryce – and then when the weather is good sometime around October 31st we plan to take off to sail the 18 days across the Atlantic .

After that – things are still undecided. If all goes well we’ll head straight to French Guiana, then Surinam, Guyana and north to visit a couple of the French Caribbean Islands, then west to the A, B, C’s of Dutch Antilles and Columbia to get ready to transit the Panama Canal around my birthday in February 2019.  In the Eastern Pacific, we make our way north through Costa Rica and Mexico, skipping the less secure countries in between.  It’s reported that there are pirates along the Central American coastline from Nicaragua through to Guatemala. Our plan is to return to Ventura end of May, early June 2019. Our McCool house has re-rented under a two-year lease. We are not beholden to any specific place to live in Southern California until we both land employment.

We’re getting close to the bottom of our cruising funds. From here on out, we’ve gotta be careful. Hopefully we won’t have big expenditures with the boat. We’ve already replaced so much!!!

Sending you big virtual hugs my dear girlfriend!
Leslie

Gibraltar – THE ROCK!

Eritrean Coins by Bryce Rigney

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

Leslie’s Letters April 7, 2018: Eritrea on the Red Sea

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).

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.

 

Suakin, Sudan in April 2018 by Eric

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

April 8, 2018

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trent’s Komodo Tails & Heading West in Indonesia

Labuan Bajo Harbor, Flores Island, Indonesia, 2017

September 22, 2017 – We left our boat for the day at Labuanbajo, a big and safe harbor located at the western end of Flores Island close to Rinca and Komodo Islands.

Majapahi II Dive Boat

The dive boat, organized through Divers Paradise Komodo picked us up directly from our boat. Our Polish friends on s/v Wassyl, Bolo and Natalia, joined us on the dive boat too.

Labuan Bajo Dive boat motoring us to Komodo Island.

The boat was organized in sections: the open front held all the diving tanks and gear, the back area underneath was the kitchen and toilet, the upper deck was more like a crawlspace where blankets and pillows were spread out for the guests to lounge. The upstairs was very comfy. They served snacks and there were self-serve hot drinks too.

During the first dive in very clear water, we saw a lot of turtles – about ten of them. All of them were the same size and the same color, some were sleeping. These sea turtles weren’t as big as the turtles in the Galapagos, but were still a good size of about 3 feet long by 1.5 feet wide.

Komodo turtle

We also saw a huge puffer fish, but he wasn’t frightened, so he didn’t offer us a show. The second dive, we saw many many manta rays. We hovered above them watching their every move. I love how they glide through the water. Their swimming seems so effortless.

Manta ray and Bryce diving near Komodo Island

After the dives, we went to Komodo National Park on Rinca Island to see free-roaming komodo dragons. The dragons were great sleepy animals. It was a bummer they didn’t breath fire. When we first arrived, we paid an entry fee and a fee for a mandatory guide. The guide walked around with a long forked stick to make sure the komodo dragons kept their distance and wouldn’t attack.

Trent seeing his first Komodo dragons.

Our guide did get attacked once while walking on the trail with a guest. They had to quickly climb up a tree and stayed there for an entire day (no cell phones back then) until the guide got a branch and threw it at the dragon hitting it on the nose. The dragon didn’t like that much and left. The two ‘prey’ were able to walk back to the tourist office where his foot was treated. He had to take antibiotics to make sure the bite wouldn’t get infected.

Normally how dragons attack is they wait in the bushes until you’re right in front of them, and when they bite they release poisonous venom into the victim. The infection from the venom is what kills his prey. They prefer to eat their prey rotting dead. The full-grown dragons like to stay in the shade. We saw a lot of them under a house. And the little dragons stay in the trees where the big guys can’t eat them.

Baby Komodo up a tree.
Small Komodo dragon too close to an adult.

When a mother dragon prepares to give birth, she digs about ten holes as camouflage and lays her eggs only in one hole to make it hard for predators to find them. We walked around the entire park and got to see a female dragon digging her many holes.

What’s different about the komodo dragon from other lizards is that the males have two penises. Weird! For food at the national park, they eat wild monkeys, deer, water buffalo and the other baby dragons. We went to visit Komodo National Park again, but this time we motor-sailed there by our own boat and we brought Rainer along. Unlike the first time, we went in the morning and saw the water buffalo with they’re big horns.

Rainer Dawn, Bryce Rigney and Trent Rigney at the entrance of Komodo National Park on Rinca Island.
Rinca Island water buffalo…prey for the komodo dragons.
Notice the guides forked staff.

Earlier in the day the komodo dragons are less active because they’re cold, so most of the dragons were sleeping under the guides’ houses around the tourist office. Dad witnessed, that even though people are not supposed to feed the komodo dragons, discarded food was being thrown out the window right over where the largest dragons hung out. Easy food is their game.

Rigneyskandu with the largest monitor lizard: the Komodo Dragon.

We said goodbye to Rainer who had to return to his aunt and uncle’s boat, Ocelot. It was sad to see him go as we won’t be seeing him again until Kalimantan, a couple weeks later, where we’ll be taking a river boat tour together to see orangutans in the wild.

We brought up the anchor and motored away to make the next rally spot, Sumbawa, to join in some buffalo races. But our engine stopped working in the pass between Komodo and Sumbawa. Dad worked for an hour trying to fix the problem, but realized the problem was too complicated. There was no wind, no other boats around, and you could see the current racing toward us. Kandu needed to make its way to a safe anchorage. Quickly we had to pull down the dinghy and hitch up our 9.9 horsepower outboard to push/pull Kandu ourselves to a safe anchorage nearby. That’s the main reason why dad bought such a big outboard motor before we left California. I was elected to sit in the dinghy and stear the two boats.

Trent Rigney steering Kandu with our handy dandy Wee Kandu dinghy and outboard.

Turns out that s/v Wassyl and s/v Burmese Breeze heard our radio calls and came as fast as they could. It was nice of them to come to our aid. By the time they arrived, we had already safely anchored in a protected bay. With Bolo’s help, dad worked on the engine almost all night long to try to fix the problem in order to leave the next day.

However, when we left early the next morning, the engine still didn’t work. Bolo on s/v Wassyl offered to tow us to Sumbawa until my dad figured out what the problem was with the engine. After a lot of hard work while under-tow, dad figured out that we had an air leak problem between two of our oil filters. His solution was to bypass two filters to stop the leak until he could really fix the problem when we arrived at our next port of call. Because of that, dad and mom decided to head straight to Medana Bay on the north west coast of Lombok, the next stop on our rally.

More pictures of Komodo dive and park:

Divers Paradise Komodo Dive shop in Labuan Bajo.
Bryce and Trent watching Majapahi II unloading at Komodo National Park.

Komodo Dragon on Rinca Island.

 

 

Christmas On the Hard “Argonaut” Newspaper Article

Rigneyskandu wishes a Merry Christmas 2017 and a Happy New Year 2018 to our dear friends, family and followers. We’ve experienced a formidable year sailing north through the South Pacific, Torres Strait, Timor Sea, Java Sea and the Strait of Malacca.

Christmas on the Hard 2017 at Pangkor Marina, Malaysia.

We made the cover of December’s issue of The Argonaut – a West Los Angeles newspaper. Have a look! Somehow it seems appropriate. The definition of the word ‘argonaut’ is: an adventurer engaged in a quest. RigneysKandu’s quest is to share to our friends and family that the world isn’t scary…it’s grand and awesome!

http://argonautnews.com/christmas-on-the-hard/

“I don’t feel I’m living a dream. I feel I’m living. I think we all are, in our own way, living our values. It’s not what we say, it’s what we do that matters most. I imagine no life is stress free. Mine is very stressful. We’re spending our savings to be with our boys as we explore the cultures of those with whom we share the planet. But I’m having to pass up a lot of special places along the way. Oh, poor me, I don’t get to experience Thailand this month. Sounds ridiculous, right? But think of all each one of us has, how we spend our good fortune too often thinking about what we wish we could do, not realizing we are already doing so much. Do we trust each has a purpose and God will provide or do we just hope it might be true for us someday in the future? I’m learning supreme lessons because this experience kicks my ass on a regular basis. But they are only learned if I put them into effect. I hope I do, or what a supreme waste. I think no matter where we are, the same holds true. You don’t have to spend your savings and leave home to take advantage of the beauty and the relationships that surround us. Your pictures of family and of sunsets show me that you are grateful for the life that is yours. Mine is not better, only different (more expensive!). We didn’t spend the holidays with family this year, but spent it with new friends. Not better, … different.” Eric

Here is the pdf version of the Article as printed in Los Angeles’ newsweekly paper “The Argonaut” :  Argonaut_12-21-2017 cover story found on pages 10-12.


Leslie’s Letters: Komodo to Sumbawa in August 2017

Kandu sailing away from Komodo Island, Indonesia to Sumbawa.

August 30, 2017  Dear Kathi,

Writing from Medana Bay on Lombok, just these last couple days while sailing from Komodo to Sumbawa Island, Indonesia, we experienced terrible diesel/engine problems. It was rather frightening being so far away from everything. We were hours away even under normal working circumstances from any village or town.

Out in the channel between Komodo and a small island east of Sumbawa our engine died. Without engine nor wind, we were without steerage and found ourselves rocking and drifting in the current. Such made it difficult to figure out the problem and repair it. All alone, we used our dinghy and 9.9 horsepower outboard to push us into a deserted bay about three and 1/2 miles away.

Trent Rigney steering Kandu with our handy dandy Wee Kandu dinghy and outboard.

Dodging by 5 minutes the cross current chop, we puttered along with Trent sitting in and controlling the dinghy alongside Kandu. Once anchored in the calm yet remote most northeastern bay (which looks like a hand and fingers) of island Labuan Gili Banta, it was easier to focus on what was causing our engine to stall. Two other rally sailboats, Wassyl and Burmese Breeze, heard our VHF call and sailed over to assist and provide moral support. Eric worked with Bryce and Bolo, captain on Wassyl, practically non-stop past midnight to solve the problem and went to bed thinking they had.

Small island Labuan Gili Banta figuring on our path between Komodo and Northern Sumbawa.

We spent the night and departed at 5:30 sunrise only to discover that the problem lingered. Instead of remaining in the anchorage, Bolo offered to tow us with his sturdy steel ketch Wassyl north to Bima, a nearby port on neighbouring island Sumbawa, but in the process of heading north the current was so strong, it put stress on our friend’s boat engine and wasted a lot of fuel going nowhere. Instead, we headed south with the current, and meanwhile Eric and his assistant, Bryce, continued working all day until, it turned out, they eliminated an air leak problem in between three diesel filters by bypassing two of them. It was a work around solution, but at least the engine was now running and we were back moving under our own power and sail.

Kandu being towed by Wassyl along southern Sumbawa.

Westing along on the south side of Sumbawa Island, we found the coast exposed to wind and swell. Up until yesterday, we had been traveling throughout Indonesia mostly along the northside of the Indonesian islands under engine power with a little bit of sail. It’s no wonder we experienced a problem. Our little ‘Yanmar engine that could’ has been working overtime. When a problem occurs with a car on the freeway, you pull over and call Triple AAA. When you’re sailing on a boat around Indonesia, when there’s a problem, Eric’s says:  “Oh S@#%!” and then he gets serious diagnosing and then figuring out how to fix the problem. Incidentally, our lives never felt threatened, it was more a question of remote problem solving.

Eric, Bryce and Trent struggling with the mainsail and furler, Sumbawa, Indonesia.

At the same time as we were being towed, our main sail furling stay came unscrewed such that our main sail foil (tube that holds the luff chord) was bending and banging against the mast and could have untied, cracked, or broken at any time due to the force of the full sail. In order to figure out how to fix that problem, the guys quickly pulled down the main sail, tightened the turn buckle and reset the set screws. They actually had to pull down the sail again to get it right – the second time at dusk. Crazy business! All that time being towed, we took turns hand steering at the helm to align ourselves with the tow rope. Normally, we are spoiled with either the automatic pilot (auto helm) or wind vane steering. Manually steering is exhausting, monotonous work especially with the hot sun blazing down with no refreshing breeze.

Kandu captain and crew taking turns hand steering Kandu.

Our saviours were Polish captain Bolo, and his Polish first-mate, Natalia on their steel ketch, Wassyl. What a magnificent and generous couple! Due to all of this business, our two boats, captains and crew disappointedly missed the next rally stop on northern Sumbawa where we would have seen a water buffalo race and enjoyed other local cultural traditions, darnit! “Can’t kiss all the girls or boys,” as Eric tends to say these days.

Bolo (Wojciech Maleika) and Natalia Ptasinska goofing off during our tour of Kelimutu on Flores, Indonesia.

Having temporarily repaired our fuel issue we made our way to the next rally stop, Medana Bay on Lombok Island to catch up with the group. Heading north at the bottom of western side of Lombok, we experienced a massive head current at 5 knots where during an hour we advanced at a speed of just 1 knot. At one point the powerful currents were swirling around us, fighting for way against each other. Indonesia is know for its insidious currents; the currents are typically two to three knots, sometimes as much as 6 knots, maximum 8 with or against! Ugh! Planning is imperative when your boat engine can muster a maximum of 6 knots forward motion at 25 rpm.

Kandu navigation indicating our SOG (speed over ground) was 4.7 knots with a .7 knot current against us. A slight respite while motoring around the southwest corner of Lombok, Indonesia.

We never know when this adventure can turn from joy to frustration. Just a couple days ago, anchored in idyllic Labuanbajo Bay on Flores Island, Eric said: “This is one of the best days of my life!” having scuba dived prolifically diverse and colourful Komodo coral gardens, swam with manta rays, and in the afternoon, walked among Komodo dragons at the Unesco Heritage Komodo Park on Rinca Island. It’s all part of our present family story – solving problems with the help of family and friends, growing together, and seeing this incredible world under motor and sail with God at our side.

Anchored one quiet night at Marina del Ray of southeastern Lombok while making our way north to Medana Bay.

Leslie’s Letters: Kelimutu, Flores Island in Indonesia 2017

Kelimutu Tri-coulored Lakes, Flores Island in Indonesia

August 24, 2017 – Hello from Indonesia!

We have left Alor to visit the famous Komodo dragons, the greatest and most dangerous of monitor lizards. Along the way, we sailed over the northern side of Flores and anchored at Wodong Bay on beach-lined Maumere Coast where we took a day tour to visit the tri-coloured crater lakes of Kelimutu and to see the inland rice terraced agriculture.

Flores, Indonesia countryside: terraced rice fields.

We had the most incredible tour across Flores Island two days ago to see Kelimutu: the tricoloured lakes. In a van/bus for 14 people, 13 of us from the Sail Indonesia Rally traveled 4 hours up up up on solidly paved roads to the volcano craters. Gorgeous sites. Evidently, the crater pools change colours during the seasons and they were steaming – so must have been hot. The liquid looked viscous and thick like paint. The sides of the craters were so steep, there was no safe way to hike down to test the temperature.

Bryce Rigney pointing out our hike to the trip-coulored lakes of Kelimutu.
Eric & Trent Rigney hiking to the top crater lookout of Kelimutu.
Eric & Leslie Rigney at the tri-coulored lakes of Kelimutu, Flores, Indonesia.

After leaving the Maumere coastline yesterday morning, we anchored around 4:00 pm in a lovely and wonderfully calm bay, Batu Boga East, last night on our way to Labuanbajo of the Western tip of Flores to try and witness some Flying Fox bats. No fox bats appeared in Boga but we got a chance to swim in unpolluted waters, take showers and get a great night’s sleep on glass as if we were docked in a marina. The surrounding countryside reminded us of California’s rolling hills or the Channel Islands like Santa Cruz or Anacapa, dry scrub. Civilisation felt very far away as there were only three minuscule fishing boats floating about and not one person around until we left this morning and saw those three fishing boats trailing lines or nets.

Batu Boga East, Flores, Indonesia.

It’s very warm out on the ocean – full sun from crystal clear blue skies. No wind – motor sailing on flat seas. Been having a little trouble with terrible noises howling from our engine room blower. Eric confirmed this morning that it wasn’t the water pump thank goodness. We will have to replace the blower sooner than later – maybe in Bali.

The locals have been extraordinarily friendly and helpful. Full of smiles. Apparently, Indonesia has the most muslims of any country. The outlying islands are 80% Christian, but as we approach closer and closer to Java, Bali and Sumatra, the muslim population will become more concentrated. Women and young women muslims wear scarves over their heads. The girls in Kupang, but especially in Alor were enamored with Bryce and Trent. They surrounded BnT constantly asking to take pictures. After the first hour, the boys lost their enthusiasm for it, but graciously continued to pose with them every time they were ashore.

Alor is considered the 4th most popular dive spot in Indonesia after Bali, Lombok, and Labuan Bajo. The four of us experienced the most marvellously scenic coral diving ever during two dives. The underwater flora was brilliantly coloured and enormously diverse due to the fast cool currents. There were no pelagic fish to be seen, yet the wall dive was swarming with small multicoloured specimins of the usual tropical suspects including banner fish, clownfish, moorish idols, etc.

We were in Kalabachi Bay, Alor when Indonesia celebrated their Independence Day on August 16th. Early at 7:00 am, an organised group reenacted the battles fought after WWII to become independent from Dutch colonisation…a five year bloody war. The spectacle was impressive.

The day after was truly incredible. We cruisers of the rally were treated to a beautiful opening rally ceremony complete dance troupe and special indigenous foods.
And later that afternoon we were asked to walk in their Alor Regency parade. It was a parade of all the peoples in costume, young peoples’ music bands, some cars but no floats. Pretty much everyone, even those from outlying neighbor islands and their small children under the Alor Regent seemed to be in the parade. It went on and on until dark…yet it was so very interesting as they all wore costumes from their region. We loved it. Then that night, we were invited to dine with the Regent of Alor and neighbouring islands…his position is similar to a Governor of a US state. The organisers of the rally dressed 7 of us cruisers up in their local costumes and we paraded into the dining hall as if in a fashion show. Eric and I actually sat at the Regent’s table, and while we couldn’t communicate directly, a translator stood nearby and helped the conversation along. A cappella, I sang “Quando m’en vo” from La Boheme as a surprise. The acoustics were perfect and there was even a stage. The Indonesians were quite astonished as were our fellow yachties! The food was spicy, many choices of meats and vegetables – lots of breaded and fried options. Instead of potato or taro chips, they serve deep fried shrimp chips and popcorn with peanuts. Tasty! No alcohol served. The prayers were Christian and ended in ‘Jesus Christ.’

Eric and Leslie Rigney dressed-up in Pantar costumes ready to dine with the Regent Governor.

Daily Log Indonesia: Onward to Timor’s Wini and then Alor

Traditional Indonesian fisherman with his sailing outrigger.

8-29-2017

Much has transpired since leaving Rote Island. We sailed our way back to Timor and headed north of Kupang to a small village called Wini where the rally was scheduled to stop. Quiet place. Leaving Kandu for the day, we bus-toured east to the border of Timor Leste (East Timor). The previous Portuguese colony fought for independence during a twenty-plus year bloody civil war starting in 1975 until gaining full independence in 2002. Close to the border, a Leste guard beaming a smile, beckoned openly that we should break international law and come visit his country. We smiled back and waved.

Border marker between Timor and Timor Leste.

We also enjoyed a fabulous local market chock full of interesting vegetables and some tropical fruits we previously had neither seen nor tasted – the ‘specially fragrant’ and unforgettable durian being one of them. Once you smell it, you’ll never forget it!

Durian – the smelly tropical fruit prohibited on buses and indoor public buildings.
Bryce, Trent and Rainer eyeing the Indonesian pastries.
Eric Rigney befriending the Wini locals.

The Wini local rally organizers held a simple dinner for us with music and dance. They offered us gifts of their lovely scarves that the local women weave here in Indonesia.

Wini welcome dinner of Sail Indonesia Rally 2017. Pictured: Complexity, Grand Cru, Esprit III, Wassyl. Notice the colorful scarves around everyone’s neck.

Off to the island of Alor, we stopped briefly at a fisherman’s pearl farm bay for a night tucking in along the southwest coast. We all wanted to swim, but instead explored from the safety of the siderail the world of rather innocuous yet scary looking jellyfish with Rainer Dawn and Sue Hacking from S/V Ocelot.

Later that evening, the adults from Grand Cru, Esprit III, Ocelot and Kandu enjoyed cocktails in the roomy cockpit of Ocelot, the lone catamaran while the boys enjoyed popcorn and movies. Great hors d’oeuvres and conversation made for fun camaraderie and conversation among cruisers. We miss our Polynesian cruiser family, yet we’ve been learning a lot from our new cruising family and are enjoying meeting different, yet like-minded people. We come in many shapes, sizes and from different countries: that night from Australia, South Africa, Washington and California states.

 

Map of Alor Island, East Nusa Tenggara, Indonesia.

Motoring north around the western tip of Alor island, our next destination, Kalabahi, is located at the very end of a long wide fjord found on western Alor. The area is known for it’s spectacular coral gardens due to the cold swift currents passing by the islands generally from north to south. We were dramatically introduced to these currents on our way to the fiord pushing against their strongest at 5 plus knots on our nose. For hours we inched 100 yards off the bank of the channel in search of a counter current, which we on occasion successfully caught. What would normally take with the current a couple hours, took us against the current most of the morning. Once in the fjord heading nearly due east, the current abated significantly and we made excellent progress with just a one-knot counter current while dodging large anchored fishing platforms. From the entrance of the fjord, it took three more hours before we made the end of the bay and finally anchored off Kalabahi.

Fishing platforms in the western fjord of Alor heading to Kalabahi.

Kalabahi city is not a usual Indonesian tourist destination. The streets are not slick and tidy. It’s a bit dirty with plastic trash littering the sides of the street, river bottoms and the water where we anchored. It’s the principal city of Alor and the center of that region’s administration encompassing 4 to 5 neighboring islands. Many children on canoes approached our boat hoping for treats or gifts. We gave out writing pens and paper, some canned meat that I didn’t want, and a few candy bars. After that, whenever we were aboard, the children returned demanding more.

While walking the streets, our tall, blond haired, blue-eyed boys were sought after for photo ops by giggling girls. The local boys looked on in bemused and rather sullen silence.

Several boats of our rally arrived a day before schedule. Rally tourist organizers quickly finished a specially made dinghy dock for us and scrambled to push up events, setting us up with a nice tour of the island including a visit to a traditional mountain village known for it bronze drums and where the religious structures were built side-by-side, Muslim and Christian. The Vietnamese drums, likely found or traded centuries ago from Chinese ships, are today used by families to support marriage proposals.

Rainer Dawn, Bryce Rigney and Trent Rigney at the Traditional Village near Kalabahi.
Traditional headgear of the Alor regency.

Later that day, we were invited to visit the Alor regional museum that was heavily guarded and only allowed visitors by reservation. It was rather sparse and limited in local information. Pictures of the past and recent Regent Governors were prominent – all looking like military dictators. The tour continued with a boxed lunch on the beach and culminated in a rather arduous hike to visit a waterfall, especially enjoyed by our rambunctious boys. Sporting a dress and flimsy flipflops, after slipping and sliding on the muddy path, I opted out of that activity.

Eric Rigney and Bryce Rigney cavorting at the Kalabahi waterfall.

The next day with friends Bolo and Natalia from S/V Wassyl hailing from Poland, we headed off for a day of drift diving. The density and diversity of coral life and multitude of colors were beyond our previous diving experiences.

Polish friends Wojciech Maleika (Bolo) & Natalia Ptasinska from S/V Wassyl getting prepared for our first dive!

There were fernlike plants (actually animals) that curled up when touched, and thousands of small iridescent colored fish darting and swarming all over the underwater landscape. We later learned that all the ‘soft coral’ can move around to more nutrient locations like starfish. Neat.

Fabulous cultural interaction included witnessing the Indonesian Independence Day (August 16th) where locals reenacted their fight for Independence from the Dutch in the 1950’s – It was an amazing show!

Indonesian Independence Day Festivities in Kalabahi, Alor.

The day after, local rally organizers honored us with a beautiful welcome ceremony featuring two beautiful local dance troupes.

Bryce and Trent Rigney surrounded by beautiful Indonesian dancing girls.

Later that day, we were invited to walk in the ‘Indonesian Independence Day’ Regency parade where participants wear costumes representing their customs and traditions. Plus, that night to top-it-off the outstanding festivities, we were dressed-up in local attire to share dinner with the Regent Mayor. Wow! Our experience in Alor couldn’t have been more full and dramatic.

Eric and Leslie Rigney dressed-up in Pantar costumes ready to dine with the Regent Governor.

The three teenagers Bryce, Trent and Rainer escaped the girls to have a bit of fun one early morning before the wind picked-up skurfing behind Wee Kandu in the middle of Alor’s deep fjord adjacent to Kalabahi city.