Nov 9, 2005 - Bali to Kalimantan (Borneo)
by George Backhus

Departing Benoa, we turned right, and immediately picked up a knot of tail current as we made for the southern tip of Bali. Motor sailing along the south coast of Bali we took in some spectacular scenery; the colossal cliffs, posh homes and resorts perched high above the water, and the massive surf, courtesy of a huge southwest swell rolling in from the Indian Ocean. Once around the corner, we then headed northwest through the Bali Strait between Bali and Java, motorsailing in nearly flat calm seas, still getting bit of a push from the current.

Java volcano.

This current followed us nearly all the way till we reached the narrows between the islands of Java and Bali, where we began to encounter a strong southerly flow. We cut in to hug the coast of Bali on the 10-meter contour, and were able to minimize the current to about 2 knots, and made it easily to our intended anchorage just north of Gilimanuk Bay before sunset. The sea gods had been very kind to us, and after an easy 80-mile passage, we enjoyed sundowners as we watched the sun drop behind the massive volcanic peaks on the west end of Java.

The following day, we knocked off another 68 miles during daylight hours, ending up at a nondescript little island called Raas, which was home to a large fishing fleet. Anchorage was a bit rolly, so we were up early and made our way west about 80 miles and took overnight anchorage along the north shore of Madura Island. Again, anchorage was rolly, and we were awakened by the serenades of Mohammed Presley from the local mosque starting at 0430 the next morning. We weighed anchor, were under way at first light, and got to watch the sun rise.

	Madura mosque.

The waters between Madura Island and Bawean Island, our next destination, are very active fishing grounds. We saw dozens of fishing boats enroute, and hundreds of fish traps. These traps consist of a clump of a dozen or so bamboo poles or sticks lashed together, floating on the surface, some up to 30 feet in length, and usually marked by a small flag or a clump of palm fronds to make them visible (ha-ha!) to mariners. The operative word here is usually. What amazes me is that we noted a number of huge ships regularly navigating these waters, and I can't imagine how they manage to avoid these traps, particularly at night.

As we approached Bawean Island, eighty-odd miles from our starting point that morning, we were pleased that we had been able to dodge all the fish traps. Well, nearly all. Just after I had lowered the mainsail, we heard a thud, bang, and boom. I dove for the throttle but it was too late. Just astern of us, I could see the unmarked fish trap we had just run over. This one won the "triple crown." It hit the bow, keel and rudder, and when I applied throttle again, there was some vibration in the prop shaft. Oh s--t, I thought, this is no place to try to make any boat repairs. We limped into the beautiful anchorage on the northeast corner of Bawean Island and dropped the hook.

Donning my mask and snorkel, I hopped in to the water to inspect the damage. Other than a few clean spots in the anti-fouling paint, the bottom was fine, as I had expected. The prop had managed to catch a small piece of polypropylene line, which I was able to easily unwind. No damage, thank goodness.

We enjoyed the beautiful, calm anchorage at Bawean so much, that we decided to take a break and spend another day. The only thing on the roster that day was cleaning Moonshadow's bottom, which hadn't been touched in four months and 5,000 nautical miles since we were in the Great Barrier Reef.

Departing Bawean Island early the next morning, we headed north-northwest across the Java Sea to the island of Borneo. We enjoyed a nice spinnaker run for about half the day, but then the wind faded, forcing us to motorsail the rest of the day. We passed Puting Point around midnight, and made our way to the anchorage in Kumai Bay in visibility severely hampered by smoke and haze, dodging numerous small fishing boats lighted only by small red flashing LED lights like the ones cyclists wear at night. This was pretty much an "instrument approach," using the radar to pick up the shoreline, and the night vision monocular to pick up the flashing lights of the fishing boats through the haze, till we could get to a safe anchorage in 6 meters of water.

With good light, much improved visibility and a set of accurate waypoints from one of our predecessors, the next day we made our way over the bar and up the Kumai River to the township of Kumai. With its muddy brown water and densely rain-forested banks, the Kumai River could easily have been the Amazon. Kumai, a small port town, is a gateway to Indonesian Borneo's gold mines and timber forests. It is also the best place to arrange a tour of the Tanjung Puting National Park and the orangutan rehabilitation centers. If you like monkeys and jungles, you'd be in heaven here.

	Kumai market.

When we approached the town reach of Kumai, we were approached by a small, sporty speedboat and greeted by Harry Roustaman, owner of Harry's Yacht Service. With a big, friendly smile and gentle mannerism, he introduced himself and guided us to the best spot to anchor. Once we were anchored, Harry dropped a pamphlet outlining his services, which range from jungle tours, fuel delivery, laundry, to port clearances, just to name a few. We were so impressed with his friendly, polite and easy-going attitude that we immediately booked a tour to visit the Park and the orangutans.

That evening we went ashore in Kumai to have a walk and a meal out at one of the local eateries with a group of yachties. While Kumai doesn't look much better or worse than any of the other small, out of the way Indonesian towns we've visited, we did notice that the vibe was definitely more warm and friendly. Almost everybody we passed either waved or gave us a warm "hello mista."

Dinner at the eatery was OK and nobody got "Bali Belly." Of the food on offer, most we were unable or afraid to identify. It was smorgasbord style, and they charged more or less by the morsel, but for the two of us the whole meal came to about $4.50 US. Among the offerings we could actually identify were curried tripe, liver of some sort, beef heart, and of course chicken and fish prepared a variety of different ways. The chicken is always a safe bet, I say. The next day we spent relaxing, catching up on a few chores, and getting ready for the jungle tour.

Our guides picked us up at 0700 sharp in a small speedboat. A young man remained on one of the boats in the anchorage to keep a watchful eye on our unattended boats - no extra charge. Harry maintained that while Kumai wasn't a particularly dodgy area, he wanted to insure that there wasn't any hanky panky with his customer's yachts.

We hopped into the back of the speedboat behind driver and guide, and shot down the Kumai River a couple of miles, turning left into a tributary that marked the entrance into the Tanjung Puting National Park. As the river narrowed, the flora became thicker and more beautiful. Everywhere was the lovely scent of pandanus flowers. We occasionally spotted gibbons and macaques sitting in the trees high above the river. Along the river were a few small villages consisting of a cluster of elevated huts and small blocks of land cleared for rice farming. The river was littered with jungle debris, which our driver skillfully attempted to negotiate his way around, but we were never to go more than five or ten minutes without having to stop and clear some sort of plant material from the leg of the outboard motor.

Our first stop was Tanjung Harapan Orangutan Rehabilitation Camp. The purpose of these camps is to provide a safe sanctuary for this endangered species, while studying their behavior in their natural habitat. Because the orangutans have been reduced by the destruction of their habitat to such small numbers, they have become more or less dependent on humans, so the camps provide a regular feeding for those animals that need it.

	Rollin' on the river.

We arrived well in time for the morning feeding. Walking nearly a mile into the dense rain forest, much of it on an elevated boardwalk, we reached the designated feeding area. In addition to the camp guide, Harry provided us with our own guide, a very knowledgeable young man named Dansa who had worked in the rehabilitation camps for two years, studying and documenting the behavior of the orangutans. He seemed to know all of them by sight, which ones were gentle, which were aggressive and potentially dangerous, which were the offspring of which, and loads of information about their social habits, most of it from personal observation.

At the feeding area, the guides called out to the orangutans and laid out bananas and tubs of milk on a raised platform. Orangutans move with incredible ease and feel safe high up in the trees, so are loath to come down to ground level for food, unless they are very accustomed to being around humans. Within a few minutes, we started to see some of the trees swaying, hear small branches breaking, and began to see dark, furry figures moving through the treetops. Within a half hour, there were at least half a dozen orangutans in sight, some feeding, some just sitting and watching the action from a safe distance, or avoiding getting too close to the dominant male of the area. A couple of the more "humanized" orangutans came right down to where we were at ground level to collect more food. Some of the larger animals were quite intimidating, having absolutely no fear of us. This is not entirely surprising as they weigh as much, if not more than us, and have 4-5 times the body strength of the average human. Orangutans have been known to literally pick up a human standing in their way and toss them over their head. We were happy to keep our distance.

We spent well over an hour and a half observing the orangutans, observing their unique habits and social behavior, and enjoying the cool of the rain forest under the dense canopy. Being in close company with these apes in their natural habitat is a fascinating and indescribable experience.