20 August 2015 Pasar Wajo, Buton
As a treat, we had boiled duck eggs for breakfast, which I'd bought at the market yesterday. I spotted the slightly blue shells and not knowing the word for duck egg, I simply pointed at them, made “Quack Quack” noises and waddled like a duck. The market stall holders thought this was hilarious, but understood what I meant. The eggs were delicious and only $0.30US each, so we’ll be getting more of these.
We met Erick and Lis ashore and they took us off in a car on a little tour of the local area. In convoy with “Red Herring”, we first went to Kali Buki, which is a sinkhole with a fresh water spring at the bottom. The enterprising owner of the land has built steps down to several concrete fish ponds where he breeds carp - he sells fish food to visitors. It is a very cool and tranquil place.
Lis then kindly took us to her parents’ house, where they had laid out some plates of Finger Food and had specially made some Cucur for us, which is a small flat sweet bread - like a mixture of a doughnut and a pancake. Lis’ father is a teacher of Islam, but unfortunately doesn’t speak much English, so I couldn’t ask him the hundred and one questions that I have about the Islamic faith. It was a nice little visit and we gave Lis' parents some small gifts of a penknife and a scarf.
We then visited Takimpo Fort. It’s perched on a hill above Pasar Wajo and used to be the home of the Takimpo tribe, who built the walls as a defence against the Europeans who arrived in the 1600s. The village was abandoned a hundred years ago and the only things left is a small mosque and a Baruga (a raised platform used for a meeting place), which the ancestors of the Takimpo people maintain for their historical value.
After a take-away lunch that W.I.C. had provided, we prepared our equipment to go on a scuba dive and snorkelling trip. Unfortunately, we’d been given the wrong information and there was no diving. Instead they’d arranged to take everyone to a nearby beach by car to go snorkelling. Glenys and I didn't fancy snorkelling with 20 people and 7 kids, so we went back to the boat.
I ran our dive compressor and, thankfully, the second-hand burst disk that I was given in Wakatobi, worked okay and I was able to fill both tanks.
At half past four, I zipped over to a fishing pier (05°30.95S 122°51.97E) on the eastern shore of the bay to do some snorkelling by myself. This is the location of a “muck dive” called Magic Pier (the “muck” meaning a shallow dive on a rubbish-strewn seabed, close to shore, often with poor visibility). My main aim was to photograph the elusive Mandarinfish, which only come out of their hidey holes at dusk, but I couldn't find any.
I didn't mind because this was possibly the best place that I ever been to for underwater photography. There are hundreds of small fish and creatures wandering around the rubble, broken fishing traps and general rubbish. I got some good photographs of new creatures including a Shortfin Lionfish and the fabulous Peacock Mantis.
In the evening, we were invited to a dinner hosted by the vice-regent. We were given traditional sarongs to wear, which are tubes of material that you pull over your head, fold a tuck to fit tight around your waist and then roll the top to hold in place. It’s the most practical sarong that I've seen - held firmly in place but the rolled top, yet the tuck gives plenty of freedom. The men wear long trousers underneath the sarong and the ladies wear trousers or long skirts.
Garbed in our sarongs, we were led to a small marquee where half a dozen tables had been set out and a big buffet laid on. Surrounding the tables were chairs for 150 local dignitaries and the sides of the marquee were open, allowing several hundred more locals to look in. We were invited to take food from the buffet and eat while everyone watched us - it was a little like being in a goldfish bowl.
The welcome dinner was hosted by the Vice-Regent, who gave a little speech. I volunteered to give a little thank-you speech and then we watched some local dancers. After that it was party time with western rock music being played. We were expected to dance watched intently by the crowd - thank goodness they provided some Bintang beer to relieve our nerves. It was another pleasant evening.
21 August 2015 Pasar Wajo, Buton
We went in at nine o'clock, hung about for an hour (not quite sure why) and then had an hour’s drive along some extremely bumpy dirt roads to the village of Wabula. This is predominantly a fishing village, were they set out massive fish traps on the shallow reefs.
When the tide goes out, about ½ mile of reef and sand is exposed, so the fishermen have driven wooden stakes into the beach forming huge arrows that point out to sea. Fish come in with the tide to feed and, when the sea goes out, the fish get trapped by the point of the arrow. The stupid fish keep trying to swim into deeper water, instead of swimming around the simple trap.
While the men are out fishing, the ladies of the village weave cloth on amazing, wooden hand-looms built beneath their stilt houses. The process looks to be incredibly laborious and we’re told that it takes 5-7 days to weave one - we could buy one for only $20US.
Glenys liked the look of a sarong that was being woven by one of the ladies called Walema. She was half way through making it, so the sarong will be delivered to W.I.C. in a few days. If it doesn’t arrive by the time that we leave Pasar Wajo, then W.I.C. will send it to the organisers at our next stop in Bau Bau - a 60 miles sail, but only an hour’s drive by car.
After wandering around the village looking at the looms, we were driven along the bumpy road back to Pasar Wajo, where the organisers had once again bought us a take-away lunch consisting of fried chicken, rice and a hot sauce - very tasty. We escaped back to the boat and chilled out for the afternoon, catching up on some sleep.
At half past four, I picked up Les from “La Passarola” and we went for a dive at “Magic Pier”. We anchored the dinghy to the north east of the pier and descended to 15 metres heading south west then came back up to 5 metres directly under the “T” end of the pier. There we found huge concrete blocks, dumped as part of the pier construction and lot of other rubbish, like car tyres.
Amongst the concrete blocks, I finally found the elusive Mandarinfish. There were scores of the two inch long, colourful fish hovering above the rubble going through their mating display. In my excitement, I neglected to set up my camera properly and most of the dozens of photographs that I took were rubbish, but I managed to edit a couple of decent ones. I also got a nice photos of the brightly coloured Ribbon Eel and a well camouflaged Tassled Scorpionfish.
22 August 2015 Pasar Wajo, Buton
The rally organisers had arranged for everyone to go to a waterfall and an asphalt mine, neither of which appealed to us, so we went off on our own - when I say went off on our own, we were accompanied by Erick, Lis and Iwan - our own personal driver.
Our first stop was at the market where Glenys bought a new outfit - a dress and sandals at an amazing cost of 110,000 rupiah ($11US). We also bought some more duck eggs and a few vegetables.
A lady was selling some parcels of rice cooked in a woven coconut leaf parcel, so we bought a couple of those and also some Tempeh, which is a traditional Indonesian soya product. It’s made by a fermentation process that binds the soybeans into a cake form, similar to a very firm vegetarian burger patty. Typically, it is cut into cubes and fried to include in meals as protein.
After buying some petrol, some outboard oil and two cases of Bintang beer, we drove off to the Bajo village to have a look around. This village used to be isolated from land an only accessed by boat, but the Bajo villagers have built a long causeway out from the shore. It was interesting to wander around and look at the traditional house built on stilts, connected by some very dodgy single plank walk ways.
A dive had been organised in the afternoon, but it was typically chaotic. We were told to go to a dock and the dive master would meet us there. We all turned up in our dinghies, but no sign of anyone. After fifteen minutes of confusion, a boat turned up, then the dive masters turned up another fifteen minutes later.
It turned out that they only had three sets of scuba gear despite having a head-count in the morning, so I had to scoot back to Alba to get our dive gear. They then loaded us onto their boat and kept us waiting for 20 minutes. Eventually, we set off to “Magic Pier” - it would have be so much easier to go by ourselves.
Despite all the hassle, the dive was very good. They took us straight to the end of the pier to where the Mandarinfish appear. I’d already seen these fish, but the dive masters were great at pointing out other little creatures, especially when they saw that I had a decent camera.
I was so excited to see two Ornate Ghost Pipefish. These are less than two inches long and almost transparent, so they are very difficult to see. Even when pointed out to me, my tired old eyes had trouble focussing on them. They are one of the weirdest fish in the sea with their unearthly camouflage. The guides also pointed out a lovely yellow nudibranch called a Great Bergia.
23 August 2015 Pasar Wajo, Buton
We had another morning doing our own thing. We invited Erick and Lis visit Alba for half an hour and then went for a scuba dive at Asphalt Pier (05°31.02S 122°50.71E). This is another muck dive underneath the end of a dock by an old Asphalt Works. There’s lots of junk on the sea bed, but we saw some creatures amongst the mess, including a couple of big Painted Lobster, a Broadclub Cuttlefish that flared bright yellow when disturbed and some lovely yellow Anenomes on the columns of the pier.
In the afternoon, I chilled out running the water-maker and not talking to anyone (for a change). Meanwhile Glenys went off to learn how to cook Indonesian food at Rusdi’s house. They learned how to make Mei Goring (Fried Noodles) and a complete meal consisting of Parende (Fish Soup), Kasoami (Steamed Cassava) and Sayur Bening (Steamed Vegetables). I can’t wait to try it all.
24 August 2015 Pasar Wajo, Buton
It was a full day today. There were three separate traditional events going on, which seemed to overlap and caused us much confusion, but I think that I've figured out what went on.
The first event was called “Dole-dole”, which the guides described as a natural immunisation ceremony. Over 500 kids between two and five years old went through this ceremony, and to say it was mayhem is an understatement. There were three marquees bustling with proud parents and their families - heat, bustle and screaming kids. Everyone was dressed in their finery including all the cruisers who were wearing sarongs.
The Dole-dole ceremony is carried out by an elder lady in three stages. The first stage is to smear medicinal oils onto a banana leaf on the ground, place the child onto the banana leaf and massage the oil into the unsuspecting infant. A brush made from various green leaves is then dipped in water and splashed on the child. The now confused (and screaming) child is then held over platters of food and smoking braziers and rotated three times. The dazed child is stood up and a handful of rice is shoved into his/her mouth (which the child obviously doesn't want). The child is now naturally immunised against disease.
It was hot and chaotic in the tents and we were continually being asked to pose for photographs with families, which is a wee bit wearing, so after an hour, we escaped to the Blue River for a cold drink and a rest before heading to the local market. Glenys went off buying vegetables and I handed out some photographs that I’d printed of people in the market. They were very well received and I was asked to take loads more photos of the stall holders.
Glenys bought a pair of sandals a few days ago and already the straps had pulled out. The market stall where she bought them was closed, so she invested 10,000 rupiah in having a street-side cobbler repair them. He did a cracking job, working for 20 minutes sewing all around the soles as well as stitching the straps - all for a dollar.
We decided to brave the marquees again and found that the screaming children had mostly disappeared and the marquees were being filled up by rows and rows of beautifully costumed young ladies all seated on the floor with covered platters of food laid out in front. The ladies were waiting patiently for the Kande-Kandea feast to start later in the afternoon. Again we were inundated with requests for photographs with pretty teenage girls, so who can refuse?
To escape the oppressive heat of the marquee, my guide Lis asked if I would like to go to her Aunt’s house for a rest. We walked a few hundred metres from the celebrations and up to a beautiful wooden house perched on the hill over-looking the festival grounds. I was greeted by Lis’ aunt and cousin and we sat in their airy lounge catching a cool breeze, while I showed them photographs of our travels on our iPad. The floors, walls, ceiling of the house, and even the furniture, were all made from an unvarnished hard wood - it was simple and lovely.
After chilling out for a while, Lis and I walked back down to the road to watch the Posuo parade. This marks the end of a process that all young post-pubescent girls in Buton undergo before being married. Pusuo is also called “seclusion” and is a Muslim ritual where the girls are isolated in a room for eight days and nights. The objective is to “prepare girls with the ethical, moral and spiritual values for their role as a daughter, mother, wife and society member.”
From what I have read, the girls are given instruction by a religious guide called a Bhisa. They are instructed in relevant sections of the Quran and there are various rituals including washing in scented water and being covered in Turmeric powder. Some girls report that it is a spiritually uplifting process and others decry the seclusion procedure as miserable, having been forced to attend by the peer-pressure of their families.
Having endured the Posuo procedure, the girls are now women. In a strange contradiction after such an intense religious process, the young women now leave behind the protection of their Hijabs (Muslim head scarves), dress up in fabulous glittering costumes with heavy make-up and walk a kilometre or so in a long parade. It’s beautiful to watch - the young women are happy, smiling and waving at everyone. I suppose that it’s not too surprising that they are ecstatic after having completing eight days and nights of religious instruction while locked away from their iPhones.
We followed the procession into the marquees, where the young ladies sat on rows of straight backed chairs, while we were escorted through the bustling crowd and given a place in front of one of the beautiful hostesses for the Kande-kandea feast.
We were each allocated a hostess and a huge platter of food, but not allowed to eat until we had suffered some rather lengthy speeches given by the Regent and other politicians. It was incredibly hot with the sun beating down onto the tent roof, no breeze and hundreds of bodies closely packed into the marquee, but after an hour we were finally allowed to eat.
I only managed to eat a very small portion of the fabulous dishes that were laid out in front of me. My hostess didn't eat, but instead, concentrated on making sure that I had whatever I wanted. After fifteen minutes of gluttony, the feast was over and everyone escaped out of the tent into the cooling breeze, stretching legs that were stiff after an hour sitting crossed-legged.
Glenys and I zipped back to the boat for a couple of hours rest, and then I left Glenys nursing a cold and mild case of dehydration to go to the Farewell party. The guides took us to a restaurant where there was a Karaoke machine. Once we were seated the guides brought in two cases of Bintang beer and Mr Rusti poured everyone a healthy helping of Ataq, which got the party off to a good start. The guides sang “Sailing” and there were a lot of tears and hugs. Karen led a conga through the restaurant, “Laragh” played an Irish jig while the two young girls from “Per Ardua” (Erin and Isla) danced and everyone had a great time for a couple of hours.
No time to rest, we were then taken to a concert hosted by Regent, where we were given seats on the stage to watch a famous Indonesian pop star sing few songs. In another strange ambiguity, there were a group of “He-shes” seated on the stage seats close to us. Dressed in tight fitting skirts, they were fun, strutting around wanting photographs with the Orang-bule (white men), but Islam severely frowns on homosexuality, so how do the Muslims reconcile these people?
It was another late night.
25 August 2015 Pasar Wajo to Bau Bau, Buton
We were up before sunrise and left as soon as we could see the fishing buoys and FADs that litter the bay. It was a pleasant sail with the wind behind us. I was very lazy and couldn't be bothered to get out the spinnaker or even pole out the genoa, so we bobbed along with the genoa losing the wind behind the mainsail.
As we were approaching the harbour, I hooked and landed a big 15 Kg Wahoo. I caught it on the hand-line, so it was easy to bring it in, but once on the aft deck, it flailed around and refused to die despite a liberal dose of rum in its gills - only continual blows to the head with my “judge” put an end to it. The aft deck was covered in blood.
It was a bit chaotic when we arrived in Bau Bau. There were three boats ahead of us and the coordinates given by Sail Indonesia were incorrect, so they were all milling about. We spotted a new-looking, floating dock next to a hotel, so we anchored off that in 20 metres depth at 05°27.36S 122°37.21E. Fortunately, it turned out to be the correct place.
I filleted the Wahoo and went around the fleet handing out meal-sized fillets to each boat, so I was Mr Popular that night. We had pan-fried fish and chips for dinner and a quiet night in.
26 August 2015 Bau Bau, Buton
There were no events planned for the day, so together with “Red Herring”, we went off in a car with a driver called Komang to renew our visas.
The Indonesian immigration will initially only issue a 60 day visa, and we have to renew it every month for a further 30 days. The rally organisers have scheduled the fleet to renew visas in Lombok in the middle of September, which is 400 miles away, meaning that we would have to rush to get there - we would rather take our time and stay longer in Takebonerate and Komodo. By obtaining our visa extension early, we will be able to miss out the stop at Lombok giving us extra time.
The Bau Bau rally team were great and helped us to prepare all of our documentation, including writing a local sponsorship letter for us. The Immigration department don’t often do visa extensions and ran out of forms - they only had two, so we had a lengthy wait for a couple of hours at the tourist office, while they found some more.
We filled in all the relevant paperwork and delivered it to the immigration department. All seemed to be in order, so we have to go back tomorrow to have our fingerprints taken - this has to be online and the internet connection between here and Jakarta is not good enough in the afternoon! By the time that we’d finished running around, it was well past one o'clock so we went for a Nasi Goreng lunch.
We chilled out for the rest of the afternoon and in the evening went to another welcome dinner at the tourist office this one attended by the mayor. There were several displays of traditional dancing and a very interesting percussion band that chanted an Arabic poem. It’s interesting that they can read and understand Arabic - I guess that they learn it while they are reading the quran.
After the performances, the compare wanted the cruisers to go up on stage and sing a song. This keeps happening to us and we’re not organised enough to handle it. Fortunately, Peter and Meillia from “Per Ardua” stepped up and sang a little Irish jig to which their two little girls danced - the crowd loved it.
27 August 2015 Bau Bau, Buton
We all went on an organised coach trip to the Bau Bau fort, which is apparently the largest fort in the world. Unfortunately, it’s so huge that there’s no real focus to it - it seems to be a five kilometre long wall with normal houses built inside.
They took us to the old Sultan’s residence. The last sultan was removed from office after their independence in 1945, so the residence is now a museum. It’s a fabulous, airy, wooden house with lovely furniture and lots of photographs of old sultans on the walls. All of the Sultans have been direct descendants of Genghis Khan, but rather than inheriting the position, the living descendants used to be nominated for an election and the sultan was voted in by the people. It’s an interesting mix of democracy and hereditary succession.
Halfway through the morning, the immigration department said that they had a network connection with Jakarta, so Komang whisked us off to the immigration office where we quickly had our fingerprints and photograph taken. It cost us 355,000 rupiah ($35US) each for the extension, but they kept our passports - they had to wait for a reference number from Jakarta, before they could stamp our passports. Komang picked them up later in the afternoon. It was all pretty painless - thank goodness we had the use of a car and driver.
Komang took us back to the fort, where we saw a traditional blacksmith making crow bars from the iron bars used to reinforce concrete; and knife blades from steel car wheels. He had a very basic foundry set up with charcoal piled in a shallow hole in the earth and a leaf blower fanning the fire. It might have been simple, but it was effective. The blacksmith and his son showed us how they manually hammer out a knife blade and temper the cutting edge in oil. I loved that they used an old bomb casing as their anvil.
We joined the others for lunch at the tourist board office. Then Komang took us in the car to try to get some propane gas. One of our gas bottles has run out, but it appears that there is nowhere in Bau Bau that can refill bottles - the locals only have the facility to exchange bottles. The local bottles have a different valve to our POL fittings, so my next mission was to try to find a valve that would fit the Indonesian bottles - I would then be able to decant propane into my bottle.
No chance - we went around various hardware shops. There doesn't appear to be anyone who actually installs fixed gas pipework - the local people all use simple regulators and rubber hoses to connect to their stoves - like we would use on a barbecue. Another minor problem is that I can’t hire a propane tank for a few hours; I have to buy one at a cost of $75 US, so it would be expensive. After a couple of hours, I admitted defeat - if we run out of gas then I will have to buy an Indonesian bottle, a regulator and rig it up as a temporary solution.
In the evening, we invited “Laragh” and “Red Herring” over for a jam session and had a great time preparing a list of songs that we can perform if requested at one of these parties.
28 August 2015 Bau Bau, Buton
I’d arranged a dive trip for five of us cruisers. We loaded all our gear in a very slender boat with two bamboo pole outriggers and zipped across the harbour to the opposite shore near 05°24.17S 122°36.18E. There’s a 20 metre high cliff and underneath the surface is a fabulous coral wall.
Our first dive was into a cave system. Glenys refused to go in and went off with one of the guides along the wall. The rest of us went into the cave which had two large chambers with a sink hole at the surface between them. It was an atmospheric dive, but not many creatures apart from a few cardinal fish and some lobster.
The second dive was a drift dive along the coral wall. The visibility was very poor, so we all concentrated on small creatures. I got very excited when I spotted a small Yellow Sea Cucumber and took some photographs, but then Adrian from “Anthem” pointed out hundreds more - the reef was plastered with them. The coral was beautifully coloured and we saw quite a few nudibranches and flat worms including a Linda's Flatworm. It was great diving for only $25US per dive.
We didn't get back to the boat until half past two, so the Wahoo sandwiches that Glenys prepared went down well. I tried to chill out, but “Catamini” still have a problem with their computer, so I went across and had another go. I tried installing various display drivers, but failed - I think that there’s a hardware fault on the video card.
Everyone was invited to “La Passarola” for coconut rum - Les has found a five litre jug of home-made rum stowed away on his boat, so Colleen and he wanted to share it. Afterwards, we went to the hotel restaurant for dinner. It was the birthday of Roy from “Peggy West”, so we had birthday cake and then a jam session with “Laragh”, “Red Herring”, Adrian from “Anthem” and Peter from “Per Ardua”. We’re getting quite a band now.
29 August 2015 Bau Bau, Buton
Last night, Adrian from “Anthem” told me that he had a valve that fits Indonesian propane bottles, so I nipped over at eight o'clock to borrow it. I then went ashore and asked Komang if he could get hold of a full propane bottle. He arranged for the hotel to get one for me - I agreed to pay them $20US for the gas and $5 for letting me use the bottle.
After breakfast, Komang ran us around. We dropped Glenys off at the supermarket to do some provisioning and then I went to get some cash and four cases of Bintang beer. We picked Glenys up and were back at our dinghy within an hour - I like having a private driver. The hotel had sorted out a propane bottle, so we took that back to Alba as well.
The other cruisers went to the vegetable market in the morning and everyone was invited to a local village for lunch, but we decided to give it a miss and get on with some chores, so that we’d be ready to leave tomorrow.
I set up the propane bottle with a hose to decant from the Indonesian bottle to our aluminium bottle and within an hour had filled it. I weighed our other bottle and found that it was at least ¾ full, so we should have enough cooking gas now to last us until we get to Singapore. There was still some propane left in the Indonesian bottle, so while I had it all set up, I filled a small bottle for “Peggy West”.
We ran the water-maker; I serviced a winch that was getting stiff; and we tidied up getting ready to leave tomorrow - a good productive day. Around five o'clock, “Red Herring” called by and told us that their afternoon had been horrible. All the cruisers had been taken to a village where there was some kind of memorial ceremony going on, but it didn't happen for ages and they spent two hours sitting waiting and then had to suffer an hour of speeches.
Both Karen and Graham were despondent, so we invited them on-board for a therapeutic beer and then Adrian and Jenny from “Anthem” called by, so we invited them for a beer too.
Another farewell party had been arranged in the evening, but we couldn't be bothered to go. We've had three weeks of cultural events, lunches, tours, speeches and parties, and enough is enough. We had a lovely quiet night by ourselves.
30 August 2015 Bau Bau to Telaga Island, Buton
We pulled up the anchor at around nine o'clock, when the wind started to pick up. We managed to sail for an hour, but the wind died after we cleared the harbour, so we motored for a couple of hours. Then just after lunch, we started to get a breeze and, by one o'clock, we were romping along with a 20 knot sea breeze putting us on a fast reach.
A few hours later, we dropped anchor on the north side of Telaga Island along with “Catamini”, “Red Herring”, “Sea Monkey” and “Conrad”. It’s a pleasant anchorage in 15 metres just off a small white-sand beach (05°24.17S 122°36.18E). We’ll definitely be staying here tomorrow, well away from the constant calls to prayer and the attention of well-meaning guides.
On the approach to the island, we landed a small 2 foot long Barracuda. I'm always paranoid about Ciguatera, so when I saw a local guy chugging past in his outrigger boat, I grabbed a fish identification chart and zipped over to him. He was surprised to see me and didn't speak any English, but a few smiles and pointing to the picture of the fish while asking “Bagus?” (Good?), got me lots of head nodding and repeating of “Bagus, Bagus” from him. So we had Barracuda for dinner.
31 August 2015 Telaga Island, Bombana
We had a lie-in for the first time for a while, but that was disturbed by a strange pinging noise. I climbed out of bed to investigate, thinking that it was a rope slapping against the mast or the rigging. I tightened various ropes and went back to bed and it happened again. I got up and had another look - I even checked the wire on the shrouds, thinking that maybe a few strands of wire might be breaking.
Later on in the day, I was snorkelling and heard the same noise while 8 metres underwater, but much louder - it scared me to death. When it happened again, I figured out that the sound was caused by the locals using dynamite to fish. This horrible method of fishing involves dropping a stick of explosive into the water, which stuns and kills all fish in the nearby area. The fishermen gather the fish from the surface of the water. It's very destructive, indiscriminately killing small fish and decimating the coral.
We spent the day relaxing. I spent most of the day playing the guitar and working out a few songs, Glenys read a book. We went snorkelling, which was okay, but not surprisingly, there don't seem to be many fish.
For dinner, we had Barracuda & chips with a bottle of red wine, while watching a movie - a perfect end to a peaceful day.
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