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and today we were once again out on our bikes. And for at least the 36th time we were asked “But isn’t cycling here dangerous?” And, as always, we pointed to the fact that we have not had an accident involving another vehicle in all those countries. Although we have managed to crash without any external help a few times and destroyed a few helmets.
Cars kill people. They kill lots of people in every country. In Germany they kill over 800 pedestrians and cyclists every year. Walking next to the road is a risk sport but not as dangerous as driving in a car. Cars kill three times as many car occupants than cyclists each year.
We have definitely been lucky but actually the huge majority of car drivers take special care to try and avoid us. Maybe they see us as an endangered species or maybe they worry that hitting a tourist will get blood on their car and get the police involved. Whatever the reason we, mostly, enjoy our cycling even on the roads.
The absolute best is when we are away from the traffic on a bike only lane – as was the case everywhere last week in Singapore – but when we have to share the road, then we try to make ourselves obvious, clearly signal our intentions and smile at every one. It has worked until now.
About seven years ago I met Christine and Michael in Allgäu (Germany) when their Internet wasn’t working on Christmas Eve. When I mentioned that I was soon leaving to sail round the world, they mentioned that they live in Singapore and said “contact us when you get there.” So we did. And they invited us to pop over for the weekend. So we did. With the bikes.
We cycled along the highway and through the back streets of Johor Bahru until we found the immigration and customs facility at the Malaysian end of the causeway. There were extra lanes for motorbikes so we followed that until a sign said “foreigners and cycles here”. A friendly guy stamped us out of Malaysia and we followed the motorbikes across the causeway and in to the Singapore immigration. They were just as friendly and stamped us in to their country with a 90 day visa.
From the north of Singapore to our destination in the middle of the island we used no roads. We either followed cycle paths next to roads, bike paths that connect the various national parks or mountain bike trails. In the beginning everything was as we expected with perfect tarmac between a forest of residential skyscrapers. We stopped to buy a drink and the little shop in the residential area took neither Visa nor Malaysian money. I explained to Heidi that we could not buy a drink and a 73 year old Buddhist overheard me and gave us ten Singapore dollars as a present. The drinks were less than five so we tried returning five but he said “You need to eat as well. Keep it!” Welcome to Singapore.
The middle of the island. Immigration. Mountain biking. Our “coffee” saviour.
When we entered the park connector network the city disappeared and we entered “the jungle”. A few people but also monkeys and a few monitor lizards. It was strange to hear the city so near but be in the middle of a bamboo or rain forest. As we entered the “only for mountain biker” section we discovered why there is so much rain forest. After an incredible intro of thunder claps the rain started. We were soaking, the path was slippy and we couldn’t believe we were in the middle of Singapore. The monkeys were laughing at us.
We reached Christine and Michael’s house to be routed straight to the shower and then to a lunch prepared by their helper, Ganis. What a reception.
Green architecture off Orchard Road. Open air concert. The fall of Singapore. Coffee “at home”
We had agreed we were staying the weekend but then it became a long weekend stretching to Tuesday. They took us to an outdoor concert in the botanic gardens by Veronica Fusaro inclusive picnic, to the neighbors for a barbecue and a great evening and to Sentosa Island to walk the beach with the dogs.
We used the buses to reach Orchard Road and watch people spending loads of money on loads of stuff among stunning skyscrapers. We bought two coffees. We used the underground to visit the Fort Canning Hill where the kings of Singapore had their residence and later the British built their fort. Five days before, a new audiovisual display had started in the old British command bunker that focused on the fall of Singapore to the Japanese. It was very interesting and thought provoking but also disturbing.
The public transport is absolutely amazing. No tickets. Just tap on and off with your Visa card or whatever you have. The tapping is the payment but also supplies data about the load so that they can add transport as needed. Everything looks brand new and everything works. In the underground there are no drivers and a glass wall in every station with doors that align with the train and only open when a train is there. Totally safe. Wheelchairs can get everywhere and the information systems make everything self explanatory. You can own a car but only after you buy a hugely expensive permit that lasts ten years. We have seen how public transport should be but I don’t see Europe catching up while I am alive.
Our new friends in Singapore
We lived like kings with a constant stream of tasty meals and a selection of drinks. All we could do to repay so much kindness was cook a meal of Kässpatzen – a traditional Allgäu food – for our hosts and their neighbors on our last night.
On Tuesday we cycled back to Artemis. We took the non jungle route and didn’t get wet. Immigration was friendly again and the local drivers continued to treat us with respect and give us space as needed.
One of the locals watching us cycling past
Our route from Malaysia to Singapore is at AllTrails here. And here is the route back.
Last week I was complaining that we motor too much. Since then we have been sailing north from Indonesia towards Singapore and Malaysia and have, until now, sailed all the way. So I thought it was time to explain how sailing actually works.
There are three sails permanently fixed to Artemis. Right at the front is a huge “genoa” which we can roll in or out as needed. Just behind that is a smaller “jib” that is also a roll sail. Behind the mast is the “main sail” that can be pulled up or down as needed.
Main sail out behind. Genoa unfurled in front. Jib rolled away in between.
If we are sailing straight down wind then we can unroll each of the roll sails, one to the left and one to the right. We use poles to hold them out and then they both catch the wind and pull the boat downwind.
both front sails “poled out”. Sailing “wing on wing”
If we want to sail across the wind, then we pull the main sail up the mast and unroll one of the roll sails. How much sail we use is dependent on the wind strength. The more wind, the less sail we use. Under the water we have a long keel that stops the boat slipping sideways. Instead, the sails convert the wind from the side to forwards movement.
We can also sail slightly upwind. This is where things get very strange. We pull the sails tight so that they no longer work as wind catchers but instead like an aeroplane wing stood on its side. Just like a wing lifts a plane in to the air, our sails “lift” us towards the wind. Once again the keel stops us slipping too much to the side. We can not sail straight in to the wind but can zig-zag towards our destination.
Heading hard upwind
We have a fourth sail that we can pull up when needed. This is a Parasailor and works like a huge bag that catches all the wind when there is not so much and keeps us moving when the other sails are not enough.
Parasailing towards the horizon
Sailing is all about constantly adjusting the sails to make the best of the available wind. Or, when there is no wind, practicing serenity.
We are a sailing boat. So how have we managed to spend one thousand hours running the main engine?
We installed a new engine in February of 2019 in Martinique and in the last five and a bit years we have traveled 47 400 kilometers. And I am totally sure that we have sailed most of them but some how we have used the motor for 1000 hours.
Let us concentrate on the good news. We have “only” used 1900 liters of fuel so we are averaging 24 km / liter which is pretty good considering that we are taking our entire home with us every where we travel. And crossing the first half of the Pacific we managed 7400 kilometers on 4 liters so we are definitely capable of sailing.
A lot of the hours are because we have to run the engine to lift the anchor and the “experts” say that once it is switched on, you have to leave it on until the engine gets warm. Other hours are nosing gingerly in to coral filled bays where you really want to be able to stop and back out at a moments notice but the real “killer” has been Indonesia.
In the six months we have been in Indonesia we have used a quarter of those engine hours. The wind has been largely non-existent or against us. Even worse the current has been against us and while you can sail against the wind it is impossible to sail against a strong current.
But that is all behind us now. With Singapore just over the horizon, we are back to being a sailing boat and hope we never see 2000 engine hours.
In Germany we own an apartment that is used as a holiday let. It has a south facing terrace but the guests were complaining that it lacked a decent sun shade and something to block the nosy views of passers by. We are sailors so the obvious solution was a sun sail (sails, coffee, WD40, wine & gaffer tape are mostly the solution).
The world is so crazy that it is cheaper to fly to Germany, install a sail and fly home than employ some one to do it for you. So – Artemis safely on a buoy, ferry from Lombok to Bali, fly to Taiwan, fly to Munich and get a lift (thank you Daniel) to the apartment. Only two or three days.
We had ordered a sail from Italy so we assembled it, discovered it didn’t agree with any of their drawings, spoke to the company on the phone, obtained their agreement that their drawings were wrong, planned everything based on the reality and started to dig four holes through the earth and plastic building rubbish. Luckily we tricked our sons in to digging one hole so there were only three left for us. And just as luckily the weather was dry and hot – I even got a sunburned nose!
Together with a builder, we filled the holes back up with 500 kg of concrete and left it alone for ten days to set.
Ten days in Allgäu. Guests round for breakfast, brunches, lunches, coffees and dinners. Out visiting friends. Lots of cooking. Cycling, walking and (for Heidi) riding. And a little bit of work to pay for all the fun. We even found time to write our will, get a new ID-card, sign a contract with a new client for Neill and a work contract for Heidi (starting 2026) and send off our tax returns – like I said, non-stop fun.
By the time the concrete was hard the temperature was back down to zero degrees Centigrade and there was snow on the ground which slowed things down enough to extend our departure by a week. With the poles screwed in to the ground and the sail rolled out, we managed two days of intensive testing with a terrace full of neighbors and then the same terrace filled with family. It all seemed to work as planned so we packed the spares for the boat and then it was Munich (thank you Michael) -Taiwan-Bali-Lombok and back home in time for the sunset drink.
In total we spent just over four weeks in Allgäu, four great weeks with friends and family. It was a fantastic holiday from the hard sailing life.
Four weeks and three seasons from the dining room window
We wrote that we were incredibly happy to reach Lombok after the adventure of trying to sail from Sorong to Lombok. We also wrote about how we took our bikes up in to the mountains to escape the string of breakages. And today we can report that we finally escaped from the mooring buoy off Lombok and reached the tourist island of Gili Air.
We wrote that we arrived off Lombok with only five days left on our visas, a broken traveller for the main sail, a none working marine radio and a broken anchor winch and water maker.
Day one: we delegated the visas to the marina which was very sensible as the supporting documents from Bali took over a week to cross from one island to another so “officially” we were visa-less for a few days. Luckily the locals “sorted something out” and it was all OK in the end. On the same day we found that Heidi’s front wheel had broken spikes but found some one to repair them. We ended up visiting him three times as spikes continue to break.
Day two:We dismantled the anchor winch, checked everything and sent the electric motor to an expert. I quickly logged on to my laptop to order some spare parts and it would not work. A few hours of playing with the boot menu and finally calls to an IT guy in Australia were wasted on that little problem.
Day three: decided to change the gearbox oil and the dipstick fell apart in my hand. Dug the remains of the thread out and asked everyone around if they had a spare. Finally ordered a new one from Yanmar and a better aluminium one from California – both express delivery.
Day four: received the winch motor back with the information that it was fine. Rebuilt everything and ran tests while measuring current and voltages. All fine but we think the main batteries are not holding their power,
Day five: refueled – from hand from 35 liter jerry cans. Definitely not fun but we are full of diesel.
Day 6: went to the zoo
Day seven. The salt water foot pump for the sink broke. Dived down below the boat but everything looked OK so dismantled the system and pushed a blockage back in to the sea with the bike pump.
Day 14: The promised dipsticks have not turned up. One is “somewhere” and the other one was stuck at Los Angeles Airport for a week. We built a dipstick replacement out of wood so that at least we can run the engine to test the anchor winch. The main engine is stuck in drive and we can not shift to neutral. Dismantled things, washed out salt water, scraped off salt deposits and it works. BUT when we ran the engine it forced the coolant out of the block.
Day 15: a few days of trying to diagnose the coolant problem. Maybe it is the pressure cap?
Day 17: New traveller car, new marine radio and other parts all ordered from a reliable supplier in the hope we have them by the end of April.
Day 19: Taxi to the big city to order two new batteries and find a new radiator cap.
Day 21: The new radiator cap doesn’t help so emptied all the coolant out, washed the cooling system with rain water, took out and tested the thermostat, ran more tests and think we found the fault.
Day 22: yesterday we found water with “goo” in it below the diesel filter. Dismantled things. Cleaned everything up and tested engine. Then we checked the salt water impeller and it was broken so changed that out and tested that and a “coolant loss prevention system” we built based on a tube and a yoghurt pot.
Day 22: local ladies dressed up for the festival of Galungan
Day 23: Both visa cards stop working. We can not withdraw any money! Tried a second bank no luck. Wrote to our bank who sent a standard “try again and tell us time and place” answer. Cycled back in to town and found signs saying the machine at bank 1 was out of order and bank 2 would not take visa. Bank three paid up.
Day 24: Our flag pole broke and our lovely flag swam in the dirty sea until Heidi found and saved it. The plastic dipstick finally arrived. We upgraded our yoghurt pot to a chocolate spread jar with a lid.
Day 25: We slowly motored the five miles to Gili Air while checking the coolant level in the jar. We did it. We escaped!
The wind was blowing from the north west so Artemis was rolling in the swell. We were missing a vital part for the gearbox so could not go any where. It seemed like everything was breaking down. It was time for a bike ride.
We assembled the bikes and found that Heidi’s bike had two broken spikes so the first trip was to find a bike mechanic. The 72 year old expert spoke no English but Dewi and Bagus, the owners of the neighboring shop helped out. Dewi also told us that she comes from the beautiful village of Sembalun, high on the flanks of the still active volcano Mount Rinjani. We found a picture of a star shaped lookout so we had a target.
We planned a route using Alltrails which took us through the mountains. There were lots of valleys to cross and ridges to climb but, as we tell everyone when they search for our electric motors, “we are young and fit!” The problem is that some of the bridges across the rivers no longer exist and two connecting roads that are shown must have disappeared in the last earthquake. The state of the mountain roads is atrocious and everything is steep but the locals are all friendly and helpful. We left at eight in the morning but by five in the afternoon we were faced with an impassable gorge so descended in the light rain back to the coast road.
We reached the main road at six, just as the thunderstorm began and darkness descended. Luckily the first person we met was the English speaking Wina who organised a pick-up to carry us and our bikes through the deluge the last 17 kilometers to our hotel.
We had decided that we deserved one night of luxury at the Rinjani Lodge where we arrived tired, cold, dirty and hungry. After being shown the room, the view, the swimming pool and the restaurant menu, we decided that we actually deserved two days of luxury.
After a leisurely breakfast in the restaurant perched high on the mountainside we walked up the gorge to see the impressive Tiu Kelep waterfall. We were in a rain forest so the drizzle which then turned to rain and finally to a monsoon downpour was not unexpected. The path had fallen in to the river in a few places so river crossings were also on the program. Finally we reached the point where we couldn’t get any wetter so posing for photos under the spray of the waterfall was no longer a problem.
On day three we breakfasted early and descended out of the mountains almost back to sea level before turning up the road to Sembalun. We climbed 1300 meters up a road that at times reached 25%. Even the passing scooters were riding zig-zag to gain height. The humidity started at about 100% and the temperature was around 30°C. Not surprisingly we pushed some of the way but even so we received numerous thumbs up and looks of astonishment from the locals. The only rain was during the lunch stop so, incredibly, we reached the village dry. The hotel didn’t have a restaurant so we biked up the hill in to the village for dinner (as you do at the end of such a day 🙂
Early on the morning of day four we cycled up to the view point above the village to enjoy the spectacular views to Mount Rinjani, still 1800 meters above us, and down on to the fields in the valley below. Luckily this early in the morning there was neither rain nor clouds hiding the mountains. From the viewpoint we descended almost to seal level. Non-stop downhill while pointing out every shop we had bought drinks at, stone we had rested on and curve we had pushed round the day before. We learn from experience so took the coastal road home and finally stopped at a hotel after 63 kilometers. We showered and walked in to the village to look for lunch. All day it had been dry but now we took shelter at the village shop as rivers fell from the sky accompanied by lightning strikes and thunder. After an hour we abandoned the restaurant idea, bought food from the shop, bagged our shoes in plastic and waded home.
On the last day we woke to more torrential rain but by eight o’clock everything was drying out and we could enjoy a short trip through the rice fields back to our cycle mechanic – Heidi had another broken spoke – and then back to the boat. It was the Balinese festival of Galungan so the streets and temples were decorated and all the Hindus were dressed in their best outfits. A beautiful end to an amazing tour.
186 kilometers, 3200 meters of climbing, thousands of “Selamat pagi” and “Selamat Siang” and many, many friendly, smiling people.
Wina who saved us when it was dark and rainy. Dewi and Ayu helping plan the route. One of the many local cooks and stallholders who kept us going and our repair man. Thank you! All of you.
All our photos of Indonesia on in the album at Google.
From Sorong on the island of Papua to Lombok, just before Bali, is only 2500 km. A bit more than half an Atlantic crossing and less half the East coast of Australia. A “short hop”.
But at the moment the North West Monsoon is blowing which means that the current is always against you and the wind – if there is any wind so close to the equator – is mostly a light breeze also against you. Unlike in the Atlantic the seas are studded with coral ringed islands, islets and reefs that need to be avoided and always appear exactly where they are not needed. This all made for an interesting trip.
Things started well. We sailed gently to a channel between two islands and then anchored and waited for the current to turn. In the morning we more drifted than sailed the entire channel and were spat out the other end. A few miles further and we saw standing waves ahead where our bit of current met a stronger current running against us. After a few hours of trying to make headway, we had to use the engine to “break through” to less turbulent waters on the other side.
schoolgirls, fishermen, mosque, sunset in anchorage, stilt village, waterspout
The next days were hard sailing. Sometimes we were heading the right way but often we were tacking to not lose ground. The engine was needed again to avoid being sucked on to Buru Island by the current running between the islands. And, of course, there are the thousands of fish traps, fishing buoys and floating bamboo islands everywhere – mostly unlit.
Eventually we sighted Sulawesi to the west and finally anchored in a bay off a holiday village. When I was 16 I read of the jungles of Sulawesi and decided that this island was some where I wanted to visit and now, only 44 years later, we were anchored below the jungle covered hills. Sometimes you only need patience.
We spent the next week working our way under Sulawesi enjoying the incredibly friendly people. In one village we were given tomatoes and in the next town a jar of honey. Everyone we met wanted a photograph with us even turning their scooters round and coming back to ask. We felt like rock stars surrounded by schoolgirls who all needed a photograph and to try a few words of English. We anchored off a lonely reef, next to a village built on stilts and up a river that cut through the coral reef. With Artemis we can really leave the “beaten track”.
One day both mobile phones disconnected from the Internet claiming that our SIM cards were invalid. In the next village we found the “phone mechanic” but he could not help. It turns out that, after 90 days, Indonesian customs block your phone unless you pay them 40% import tax. So we now own a second hand local phone that is tax paid. While the guy was working on our problem, Heidi was surrounded by local ladies enjoying pictures of Allgäu, snow, our children and our journey in our new “picture book”.
Back online we continued west. Actually we went north then a bit west then south. It was further but avoided the strong current so was actually sailable. Sailing is often about going the long way to get there eventually. It was during this trip that we realized that our marine radio no longer worked and saw our first tornado just off to port.
During our last stop in Sulawesi we met Aul who fed us crab, took us home to meet her family, helped us shop in the Sunday market and took us to the swimming pool where, this being a Muslim country, Heidi and all the other women swim fully clothed. We were made to feel like honored guests and enjoyed the chance to meet so many locals and learn about their life.
By the time we left Sulawesi we had used half our diesel supply and out in the islands you can not buy high quality fuel suitable for our engine. But the weather forecast promised wind and we planned a route to avoid the strong currents so we thought we could easily reach Lombok.
On the first day we were in the shadow of the islands but a storm/tornado/who knows what ripped in to us with incredible force and ripped the screws that secure the main sail traveller out of their threads. Luckily we had a safety rope installed and even more luckily neither of us was in the way of the flying parts. With a rope we managed to make a repair to allow us to continue.
In the night we were making good progress until we entered an area full of fish traps. We just managed to turn to avoid a large, unlit bamboo construction that could only be seen in the dark because of the hundreds of white seagulls sat on it. As a result we took down most of the sails to drift slowly until daylight. No progress is better than a wrecked boat.
The next days were frustrating. No wind at all but a constant current against us. Instead of sailing we burnt fuel to keep moving against the current, make way westwards and avoid reefs. Over a hundred miles away from Lombok we ran out of fuel and were at the mercy of the current. Luckily a passing fisherman swapped us twenty liters of diesel for a fuel canister. This was just enough to reach the port of Badas where we were overjoyed to see the yacht Moon River at anchor. Our friends who we met last Christmas had a phone number for a taxi driver and lent us their diesel canisters to refuel.
As we tried to lift the anchor in Badas we discovered that it was broken. It will turn but lacks the strength to lift the anchor so we pulled it up from hand which is not good at our age. No anchor winch meant making the run directly to the marina in Lombok in one overnight run while hugging the coast to mitigate the current.
As the sun rose over Lombok’s volcano we put the water maker on and found it no longer works. Yesterday it made drinking water but today the water is brackish.
Finally we reached Lombok and tied to a mooring buoy. Our visas run out in five days, our main sail traveller is broken, the marine radio does not work and we don’t have a working anchor winch or water maker. So we did the best thing you can do in such a situation and went to the restaurant for brunch and ice cold coke.
We are sailing west across the warm, calm Celam Sea. Everything is drying in the sun. Our clothes are hung wet on the safety lines and may be dry in a few hours. There is nothing to see in any direction except the sea and sky. No islands, no ships and most importantly no tropical storms anywhere.
Last night we were sailing slowly west under a moonless, starlit sky. Heidi was adjusting the wind steering and sails as necessary while also avoiding commercial shipping. We were finally making good progress from Papua to Sulawesi.
it is just a question of adjusting the correct line (rope)
At midnight the sea became agitated and we stopped making any forward progress. We had met a strong current coming the opposite way which not only stopped us, it forced us backwards. We tried tacking one way and then the other but nothing helped us on our way to Sulawesi. We changed the watch and I sat outside.
Slowly the stars began to disappear which is never a good sign. Next the wind changed direction and increased which is always a warning of bad things to follow. The pouring rain was mere confirmation that we had entered a tropical squall. Heidi put on a jacket and together, in the wet dark, we reduced the sail to a minimum while getting thoroughly soaked. We attempted to steer a safe course through the howling wind keeping the bow upwind and the wind on one side. Normally this is not so difficult but when it is pitch black, you are being lashed by rain and your only point of reference is the compass then it gets more exciting. There are occasionally times when you wonder if sailing is really such a fun sport.
Eventually the wind died down leaving us to drift the wrong way through the rain until that stopped as well. At some point I lay down and Heidi took over the watch again. And at nine o’clock I awoke to sunshine and Heidi sailing a rapidly drying boat gently west.
You have probably never heard of Wayag. But you have definitely seen pictures of this amazing Indonesian archipelago.
Heidi’s son, Michael, flew to Sorong to join us for Heidi’s birthday, Christmas and New Year. Despite his three flights becoming four and despite being given a hand written boarding card, he arrived exactly as planned. To help with the jet lag we took him to immigration (twice), the bank, the supermarket and a restaurant before returning to Artemis.
We spent a few days sailing near Sorong and then set off north to the magical realm of Raja Ampat. The plan was a gentle day sail but, this is sailing so we ended up tacking through the night hard against the wind avoiding islands, islets and reefs. Welcome to our world Michael! Luckily he took everything in his stride and even managed a good night’s sleep.
At first light we anchored off the Island of Arborak and took the dinghy to the reef to introduce Michael to coral and the millions of fish. The clever guy had bought an underwater camera with him so that we could record the amazing reef scenery. We also walked around the island which took ten minutes and met three Germans who had booked a three week stay and, after one night, were wondering what they were going to do for for the next twenty days.
Another two days and one night of sailing and the sun rose to show us Wayag. As we entered, folowing the deep clear channel between the coral reefs and undercut limestone hills, the effect was “Wow! Amazing!” We anchored off a white beach and immediately jumped in the water. It had the perfect temperature and “the swimming pool” became a twice a day event. Paradise is where you make it but this is a good place to start.
Just along from us were a few boats with young families on board. One night they turned the beach in to an outdoor cinema and on Christmas Eve there was a beach party. A tribe of happy, well brought up children having a good time and everyone made us very welcome.
We climbed two steep limestone hills to enjoy the moment when you step out of the hot jungle and the vista of water and hills opens up in front of you. It is hard to believe that what you are looking down in to is reality and not something from a films special effects department. Everything is just too perfect with geometrically rounded hill tops, immaculately spaced trees on the hillside and water with every known shade of blue.
We also found a school of sharks to swim with. They were black tip reef sharks so not human eaters but still they had that evil feeling that sharks emanate as they swim past you with their tiny little eyes sizing you up.
We spent four days in Wayag. It is indescribably beautiful and I am pretty sure we will not find anywhere to knock it off the “most beautiful place ever” pedestal”.
