Kupang West Timor

INTERNET HERE TOO SLOW TO UPLOAD PHOTOS, WILL TRY LATER

Kupang July 29^th – 2^nd August

We left Darwin the morning of the 25^th Darwin with the promise of a fair crossing of the Timor Sea.  ‘Fair’ deteriorated somewhat into ‘choppy and confused’ which then deteriorated into ‘confused and sloppy’ and continued that way for the majority of the four days out.  The crew was less than impressed but resigned to the fact that “this is the way it’s going to be, get used to it” when the spinnaker pole decided to part company with the main mast.  This little hiccup left the headsail flapping violently in the breeze and a large metal spear (spinnaker pole) careering dangerously across the deck while Bluestone decided she was now going to sail west not northwest as was the original course set.  Skipper and crew managed to secure the pole and save the head sail, gain composure and recouperate somewhat then resign ourselves to the fact that now we may have to tack downwind all the way to Indonesia – not completely impossible but completely undesirable.  So, after some brain drain on the skipper’s part, some cursing and grumbling (mostly on the crew’s part), hanging on in the sloppy seas whilst tapping and drilling and end-for-ending the attachments on the spinnaker pole, all was back to normal and Bluestone was steered back on course.  This sounds all fairly straightforward but with the skipper suffering from a chest cold and the crew anxious and grumpy this repair job took more than just a few hours.  Finally all is back to normal and we head northwest with fingers (everything) crossed and continue on our merry way.  Full of confidence that the pole problem has been corrected the seas and winds eased to the point of total frustration and so the engine is engaged to help us along.   Over the next four days the engine has to be used on several occasions as the wind dies out completely.  Enter problem number two – engine oil in the bilge.  A leak obviously, but from where?  Skipper cannot diagnose the source of the leak but then we discover oil in the cooling water so immediately suspect a blown head gasket, and he is understandably very hesitant to use the engine at all but thankfully a light breeze develops and we can sail to the Ombai Strait, West Timor to make our way into Kupang.  Our companions stay close to us in case of the worst but we are happy to report that we were able to top up the oil and motor safely into Kupang without further incident. 

Kupang – we arrive in Kupang around 11:00 (Darwin time) and intend to turn our attention to the motor as soon as we are anchored but do not have a chance to even set the anchor before Immigrant and Customs officials (all 9 of them) are boarding, shaking hands, smiling, laughing and crawling all over Bluestone.  Friendly, happy officials are always a bonus and these people are all that and more.  The crew has put out ‘gula gula’ (lollies) and this makes everyone even more happy until they spy the ship’s store of alcohol stowed away and now we are up for ‘payment’ in the form of plain label wine to the guys with the uniforms.  A cheap price to pay to keep them from complaining too much.  Thank goodness they spied the plain label and not the good stuff.  The forms we have to fill out are mountainous but as quickly as it all began it is all finished and suddenly they decide to leave – happy to have their photos taken in the process.  Phew!  All over?  “No, no, you need to come ashore and fill out more forms”.  Ashore in the afternoon at the bar on the beach (we later discover is the ‘Customs bar’) we make our way through five tables of smiling officials and MORE paperwork, our passports stamped and after parting with rupiah for harbour fees finally collapse at a table with a big bottle of Bintang Beer – thankfully icy cold and very tasty.  We catch up with the rest of our fleet chatting for while to hear all the stories of their passage and then decide to stroll up the road for a look before going back to Bluestone to retire into our bed – a luxury after sleeping on the floor for four days.  During our stroll up the nearest road past run-down buildings and shops we discover the local hardware supplier where skipper decides he will buy a pop-rivet gun but the language barrier was a bit hard to get around.  The switched-on girl in the shop gave him paper and a pen and he drew a picture of a pop-rivet acting out that he didn’t want the pop-rivets but the gun itself.  A lot of laughs and a few incorrect guesses on  behalf of the girl but eventually we have what we came for – smiles all around a successful sale.  Throughout these awful run-down streets are pristine clothing shops that you would miss if you didn’t take a peek inside out of curiosity – it’s like looking into a budget Susan store.  

 Happy officials, always a good thing

Before returning to the boat we hear of a free bus trip the following morning to a village in the mountains and decide that we would sign up for the tour.  Little do we know that the troubles of the crossing, the nasty seas, mishaps and discomfort are going to pale to utter insignificance after this free bus tour.

We have about 40 people from the fleet waiting around in the early morning (and wait you will in Indonesia as they do not have watches and time is ‘jam karet’ (rubber time) – time means nothing here) – until our tour guide and bus drivers arrive and we are ready to leave.  Making our way through the narrow, broken, dirty, busy, dusty streets of Kupang we head on out of the city area into the country.  Kupang vehicles drive on the left-hand side (mostly) unless they feel threatened by an oncoming vehicle, then they dodge around on the right-hand side hopefully not hitting pedestrians in the process.  However, in this utter confusion of trucks, cars and numerous motorcycles we did not hear anyone getting annoyed or cross, they simply drive to miss hitting anything and it all works very well.  (Of course, this is what we saw when we actually opened our eyes). 

Driving out of the city area we are all unaware of the importance of this tour today.  A little further out we go through a Police road block – apparently they were checking licences and taxes etc., and a way down the road several motorcycles and cars are turning back to go the way they came (obviously haven’t paid tax or don’t have a licence).  Our tour buses get waved on through but a short distance away we see more Police and this time we are waved over and asked to exit the buses.  Suddenly, the Police are stopping traffic and we are ushered across the road into a shack to be met by two Indonesian ladies dancing to the music emanating from the hut and the drums being played outside by the local musicians.  Here we are entertained on amazingly beautiful instruments called Sasandu with traditional songs and also a perfect rendition of Waltzing Matilda – a moving moment for the Aussies.  We are shown how the instruments are put together and invited to have a look around the hut – all the while the Police patrolling (unarmed) on the road to keep everyone else at bay.  

Back on the buses, we have a Police and government escort to a roadside monument dedicated to the Indonesians and the Australian soldiers from the second world war.  The Police again accompanying us as we walk to the monument for a look.  On the buses once again we continue our journey this time without the Police escort only just the government car flashing blue lights leads the way and we stop at a small cafe where we are treated to delicious local cakes and cold drinks – all free of charge.  Our next stop is more than an hour away up in the mountains along a treacherous, narrow, winding road and none of us are aware of what is in store.  After around 50 minutes of gear-grinding, spine-crunching driving through various villages and stunned local residents we drive along narrow streets lined with coloured cloths on sticks resembling flags.  The flags line the streets for around 3kms and our tour guide informs us they have been erected in our honour – they are very pleased to have Sail Indonesia here.  Closer to our destination more and more people line the streets waving and smiling and by the time we reach a mountain lake the local people number several hundred.  Again, our guide tells us this is all in our honour and as we disembark (rubbing backs and bums) the local school children are lined up ready to sing and chant their welcome song.  Obviously, they have been preparing for this day for a long time and the children do not miss a beat of their perfect routine.

I have to say emotions are at a premium, we are all feeling like royalty and every one of us has a lump in our throats as these wonderful, gentle people surge forward waiting to shake our hands and welcome us.  It is overwhelming and engine troubles, headaches and backaches fade into insignificance as we are ushered into the dancing circle and followed everywhere by the crowd who are so happy to have us there.  Three of our sailing fraternity are presented with locally made scarves before we all join in the singing and dancing.  We are taken through the beautiful bushland to an area where a cow has been slaughtered and the meat is being carved and cooked for our lunch and onto the table spread with vegetables, rice and fruits.  These people have so little and they are so generous - our lunch is very different but absolutely wonderful for the fact that they are sharing what they have with us. A flying-fox has been erected, presumably by the army representatives present (again, unarmed) and the children are enjoying being flung across the water – sometimes in the water – on this contraption.  Local people talk to us, show us their children and take our photo (some teenagers there has a mobile phone) always asking us first if this is alright, the younger children delighting in seeing themselves on the camera screen.  The older children sometimes have the opportunity to go to school and onto university, can speak a little English and love to chat to us.  Skipper is very popular for photos because of his height, the children pointing up and laughing at what a long way up it is to his hat.  Everyone wants to be in the photos and we wish we could photograph everyone there and send them the prints.  

He likes Neil's Acubra, didn't want to give it back 

Do I have a new friend?

Lunch

The day is not over yet, the Mayor of Kupang invites us for a Gala dinner back on shore in Kupang that evening.  We are all presented with a locally made scarf during the formalities, a local restaurant delivers food and dancers and singers entertain us into the night until we return to the beach where local teenagers carry our dinghies down to the shore for us and assist us into them so we can return to our boats.  We pay these boys 30000 rupiah (about $4) per day to look after the dinghies carrying them up and down to the water and keeping the locals away.  What do they do when we are not here?  So many do not have jobs.  During the dinner we are joined by a young lad (about 17) who is from the island of Rote he is trying to improve his English and is very happy to sit and talk to us to learn more words.  The young people have no future unless they have the drive to learn English and push to get themselves a job somewhere in a tourism area and perhaps they are lucky enough to get to Australia. 

 Again, that lump is rising in my throat as I type this, the four awful days at sea were worth every minute of this wonderful experience.  Thank you Kupang.  Apart from the few ‘sharp’ characters you may come across in Kupang the people here are happy, friendly and eager to share what little they have to please you.  It is as yet, untouched by tourism, the hotels appear basic, the buses are a disaster, the streets will be clean after the next downpour but if you want a real experience and not just a holiday in Asia come to Timor – better still, get a crew position on a yacht and sail here.  Note to yachties: DO NOT MISS THIS RALLY.  We have now been here just on two days and adore the place.  We have been told the best is yet to come.

Saturday in Kupang – thankfully after hearing of our mechanical woes, two other cruisers arrive bright and early to re-tension the head on our engine in the hope that this will correct the oil leakage and we will not have to send to Australia for parts and try to find a mechanic in Kupang who knows diesel engines.  Being part of a cruising rally such as this has many bonuses such as our companions from “Sunray II” and “Amulet” who are, as I am typing this, perspiring profusely over the engine but persevering so that we can continue the rally with them to our next destination – Rote.  Thank you guys.  Another bonus in the numbers of the rally are the presence of a dentist, hairdresser, nurse, chiropractor, mechanic, engineer and I’m sure many more occupations that may come in handy on our travels. 

PS  We are now in Ba’a, Rote and it is more amazing than Timor.  More later