Four hours later we awoke, we counted almost fifty yachts near us and we could see half a dozen warships and many other merchant vessels. Lembeh, the island opposite the mainland created shelter. We noticed a tented village on a small hill overlooking the harbour. There were many Bunaken 2009 flags flying. We lowered the rib and went ashore, pleased to be on firm ground again. We soon saw a few familiar faces, people we had seen at KK. The Indonesian customs had set up their own tent and pre-prepared our paperwork; we were quickly cleared in. Immigration would require some payment from us so we began walking to the nearest town, but before we had gone very far a police vehicle stopped and gave us a lift. They took us to a bank where I withdrew one and a half million rupees. Charley began chatting to a local woman who spoke a little English; she kindly led us to a nearby supermarket. We found that prices in the shops were very reasonable. We asked the woman if it was possible to hire a motorbike. While we were shopping she brought us a young man who was prepared to hire us his bike. We agreed a price and rode the bike back to the harbour.
That evening there was yet another Gala Dinner in the tented village, I estimate two thousand people, including crews from warships, listened to the speeches, watched the dancing and ate the food. The hospitality was slightly overdone. A great deal of effort was made by these people, but we found it a bit embarrassing. We were “befriended” by a local councillor who was keen to make a good impression. He spent some time discussing local affairs with us. The next day he brought some other local aficionados by boat to visit Loggerhead.
Earlier that day we had gone ashore and just as I was about to climb out of the rib I stood awkwardly for a second and pinched a nerve in my back, an old rugby injury. I hoped that nothing would come of it but by the time we had walked up the hill I could no longer stand. I had no option but to sit for a few hours while waiting for a pain relieving pill to take effect. I then made my way back to the rib park and somehow managed to get back to the yacht. Whilst I was stuck ashore Charley returned to the yacht to greet our visitors. The next evening a boat delivered a present to us. It was a book of photographs of North Sulawesi, an absolute work of art, signed by the Minister of Marine affairs of Indonesia.
After resting for a couple of days I was able to get ashore again so we took the hired bike to Menado. It was further than we had expected and the roads narrower, although one of them had been resurfaced for Bunaken week. However we enjoyed the trip. Menado was quite modern but the villages that we passed through on the way were obviously poor.
Next day I rigged some support for the broken shroud and bought diesel from a garage. Some of the other yachts took part in a race to Menado but that was out of the question for us. We received another visit from a launch delivering gifts, another book and a small case of tinned tuna. The harbour master also visited that day; he gave those that wanted it their outward clearance. A health official also attended. We were given a green book, rather like a diary of the state of health of the yacht.
Our local councillor visited again the next day and took us on an excursion inland; we visited a graveyard full of Waruga, a stone sarcophagus containing several generations of the same family, all initially stored in a sitting position. After that we toured the higher ground and had lunch at an Indonesian restaurant. Some of the dishes were a bit too exotic for us; we declined the snails and the various parts of pig, including ear and lung that were offered.
When walking about Bitung we were looked upon as celebrities, many people took our photograph, the same was true at the anchorage, many people in small boats, even fishermen, waved and took photographs of us as they went past. We found it a bit strange, but the reaction to us was overwhelmingly positive.
Six days in Bitung was enough for me, it was windy every day, and there were no calm days while we were there. The south west monsoon is very reliable. We hoped that the wind would ease when we sailed east as we had to sail north or south of Pulua Halmahera, the large island to the east of Sulawesi. We chose to go south to get to Papua New Guinea. To begin with we motored through the warships that had returned to Bitung after the sail past in Menado. The wind was more than we would have liked, especially with a damaged rig. The distance to the islands around Halmahera was about 150 miles, it seemed much further, the sea was rough and confused and we were delighted to sail into the lee of some of the smaller islands. We picked one with a north facing beach and just managed to arrive before the last of the daylight disappeared. The water was deep until very close to the shore but we managed to find a shelf to anchor on. The visibility was excellent I could clearly see the bottom at twenty metres. We anchored in eight, the bottom was rocky with sandy patches, I don't think the anchor dug in but the chain wrapped around some rocks, it was very sheltered, we hardly moved all night.
When I checked our position on the plotter I noticed that we had crossed the equator and were just over half a mile south, the island was called Pulau Tolimao, the one nearest was called Pulau Gunanga and was about two miles away, but it was in the Northern hemisphere and we were not.
After a shower, dinner and a couple of cold beers we slept like logs, but before we turned in we sat in the cockpit in the dark, listening to the birds in the trees on the island only a hundred metres away.
Next morning we made an early start, the anchor came in easily and we motored east to find some wind, I put out one lure, a new Rapalla, and within ten minutes we had a big strike; we were still close to the island. I throttled back the engine and tacked to stop the yacht. Charley came on deck to help. The ratchet on the reel was still screaming. I applied more drag and slowed it down. Charley passed me a belt to pivot the rod on, and I began reeling in. What ever it was had plenty of strength, eventually I brought it alongside, my first thought was Kingfish, but then I noticed the teeth, it was a large Barracuda. Charley passed me the gaff and then stepped back, unnecessarily, as with the gaff in its jaw it was under control. We then took some photographs and got the yacht under way again.
We found the wind as we left the lee of the island and sailed a good course to the south east. A super yacht with its own helicopter passed us but we were delighted with our situation. They might have a helicopter but we had a Barracuda. Soon though, the wind died so I decided to motor for a while, only the engine would not start, there was no power at the switch, after a brief examination I discovered that one of the battery terminals was not connected properly so the problem was easily rectified.
Then plan for the day was to find another anchorage by mid afternoon and perhaps have a swim. The delays landing the fish and finding the bad battery terminal meant we arrived at Pulau-Pulau Kusa later than we would have liked. The wind had become west of south so the first possible site to anchor at was too exposed. We then spent an hour motoring around trying to find a suitable spot. It rained heavily during this process, when the rain eased we found that the water was too deep around most of the island, the coral reef was like a wall, we could easily see it as the water was so clear. Eventually we found an inlet and some shelter; someone had helpfully put stakes in the shallows. We anchored minutes before darkness fell. There were high trees all around, we spotted some people watching us, and we could see the smoke from their fire. It was rather eerie.
We dined that evening on Barracuda, although the portions were small in case of ciguatera poisoning. Next morning there were no signs of poisoning so we presumed that our meal was edible, we had plenty more to look forward to. The scene around us was surreal; it was like being in a small lake in a jungle. We could see the coral wall not much more than a boat length away, we had been fortunate that it was so still. When I pulled up the anchor it came straight up, it was not laid out and any wind would have put us against the coral.
We motored out of the inlet and managed to get a wave from the woman and child that watched us. It was only seven am but it was already baking hot in the sun, a little breeze arrived but it was a day of mixed sailing and motoring. Just after lunch we came across a few small boats fishing, the men flew kites with fishing lines attached to them. We saw another yacht but it was too far away to make out who or what it was. The next small group of islands looked tempting, the chart seemed to display possible anchorages, we had planned to sail overnight but the wind had other ideas, so we decided to stop. We dropped the main and motored into the middle of three islands, the largest was called Dowora. We had seen one fishing boat on our approach but we were surprised to see the size of the village we soon came across. We investigated one small bay but the bottom was no less than fifty metres within two boat lengths of the beach. As we continued a couple of small canoes with inboard engines and small children at the bow approached us, we waved at each other, I pointed at my anchor hoping to be advised about a good spot, the man steering the canoe pointed at the lure hanging from my rod hoping to be given one. More boats approached us, I waved an acceptance of the anchoring advice in return for a lure. The first site offered was 47 metres deep so I made gestures to that end. The man waved us to follow him; we crossed the bay and passed his village built on stilts. The next offering was still too deep but I reluctantly decided to anchor in 15 metres, I could see the coral wall close to the beach. The anchor went straight down and probably fell in deepwater; we backed up but could not get near the beach, whilst we were anchoring a flotilla of small boats gathered around us. As soon as we were set men started to climb aboard, within minutes heads were peering into every port. My eyes were everywhere, there were lots of easily stolen items lying about, but I soon detected a respect for our belongings. At least twenty men and boys were on board, one chap had a few words of English, they advised that a Danish yacht had once stopped there. It must have been meal time or maybe prayer time as they all left, but in darkness, an hour later they all came back. We all sat around the cockpit, we offered them water melon and the English speaker wrote down lots of Indonesian words for us. Some of them wanted fishing lures so I gave them a couple. I had asked for the words “We want sleep” during the lesson, so when I said it they got the hint. We shook hands and they departed. They all seemed to be smokers so in the morning Loggerhead resembled an ash tray. We washed away the mess and I pulled up the anchor. We received a few waves from the people in boats and we motored out of the island group, heading just south of east.