13th March

This 200km section of Indonesia is committing. The surf is around 1.5metres from the NE every day with not that many nooks and crannies offering a sheltered landing. We’re not always brave or stupid enough to land for lunch through the waves and we anxiously scan the horizon when arriving at a place that we’ve identified as hopefully a “dry hair” landing.

Yesterday we made great progress in light winds and reached Weios, the geography of which looked certain to offer nothing more than a splash on the deck. What the map didn’t reveal was the unbroken line of reef that guarded the entrance like a castle wall, revealing itself as an impenetrable black line every time a wave approched and sucked the water away. The waves then built up into their own white wall, rearing up and breaking down with a fierce boat-and-body busting crash.
Inside the calm bay, we could see a small house on stilts above the water and a couple of boats on the shore. The welcome oasis was so close but first we had to get past the angry guard. I approached a 1 metre wide gap in the fortifications as close as I dared as a set of big waves rolled through. Each wave swelled and puffed up is chest as it approached the shallower water but they didn’t break until they reared up on the reef with a heart stopping thump. It was intimidating to sit in this zone of flexing muscles, knowing the waves didn’t usually break here but also knowing there is always that extra big wave. I needed to be as close to the gap as possible so I could sprint through in the brief few seconds between sets. I sensed my moment and pulled hard on my paddle. I tried not to think about the confused white water surging and colliding and pushing after a wave breaks but concentrated on getting past the danger zone on a blue sea. As i powered forwards, I felt my kaya k get
pushed sideways slightly but I was through into deeper water. Just in time as another wave reared up onto the reef behind me and crashed down sending a breaking wave careering towards me. The wave didn’t die as I expected but caught me up and pushed me towards shore. A brief moment of panic but the wave petered out. I had run the gauntlet and survived.

It was Sandy’s turn. I couldn’t see her line very well as she kept disappearing behind the swell. I saw her powering towards the gap and the white foam of a wave in quick pursuit. A stern rudder set her straight, I think she made it through but then the breaking wall of water caught her up, her red kayak looking small on the face of it. A brace and a braking stroke and she handled it beautifully, skilfully surfing away from the danger. I asked if she heard me whooping. She asked if I heard her swearing!

The rain had been with us on and off all day and an hour before landing it started falling with a vengeance. This is the wet season and it rains at least every other day but usually for no more than a few hours at a time. Last night heavy drops fell incessantly and we were grateful that the two guys who lived in the bay let us organise our things under their shelter and cook on their fire. It’s great to see how self sufficient they are. They’ve dug a well for water and set up a system to filter it through gravel. Fish were being smoked above the fire while bananas lay on a bench and papayas grew on a few trees. They helped us clear an area for our tents and put mine up with me.

The rain stopped sometime in the night and today was overcast then sunny. Getting out through the reef was easier at a higher water level and we made pretty good progress towards a village where sandy identified a gap in the reef on Google earth. In the end we stopped a bit short of this as we found a really protected beach with an easy landing. As a bonus there are also rustic homemade wooden chairs and table. We’ve enjoyed a couple of hours of pottering about watching hundreds of hermit crabs of all shapes and sizes crawl over everything including each other, like a living carpet.

We’ve paddled the last 8 days, mostly getting up early in the dark so a rest day is due but we’re short on water so probably need to paddle to a village tomorrow. We’re both tired and I’m looking forward to sleeping as fireflies light up the night outside my tent.

This e-mail was delivered via satellite phone using Iridium AxcessPoint Mail & Web software. Please be kind and keep your replies short.