Nov 22, 2005 - Bali to Kalimantan (Borneo) - Part 2
by George Backhus

Camp Leakey is the largest and oldest orangutan rehabilitation camp in the park. It has more buildings, more staff and even a small visitor's center/museum containing lots of interesting artifacts, photographs and information about the orangutans. There were also a number of very tame orangutans milling about the camp, as well as a wild boar, a domestic cat and a few gibbons keeping an eye on things from some nearby trees. None of the animals seemed to pay too much attention to each other.

Nonetheless, we trekked a mile or so into the jungle once again in order to observe the afternoon feeding. Once more we were very fortunate to be visited by so many orangutans. Our guide explained that the feedings were so well attended because at this particular time of the season, there were fewer new leaves and flowers available, which are their preferred sources of food. Again we spent nearly two hours just hanging out and watching the orangutans while they dined on pineapples and milk, and curiously watched us. I was beginning to wonder who was entertaining whom out there.

We returned back to the speedboat for the one-hour-plus ride back to Kumai. It was approaching dusk, and the monkeys were out in force along the river. We saw literally hundreds of long-tailed macaques, gibbons and proboscis monkeys. The dominant male of the proboscis species have a schnoz that Jimmy Durante would have been jealous of. As we passed below on the river at high speed, some of the monkeys would become irritated by the noise, run out on a tree branch and begin shaking it wildly, and in some cases throw bits of food or plant material at us. We were definitely in their turf, disturbing their evening meal, and they weren't happy about it!

Moonshadow at Carimata.

Back on Moonshadow, over sundowners that evening, we toasted to our best day yet in Indonesia. The beautiful rain forest, the monkeys, and our excellent guides will all be indelibly marked in our memories. Harry popped by that evening to check up on us. From the copies of our passports that we provided for entry permits into the park, he discovered that Merima had just had a birthday a couple days before, and presented her with a small gift.

Considering that some parts of Indonesia rely heavily on the tourism dollar, or in this case rupiah, we couldn't understand why our visas granted us just 60 days to stay. The process of extending visas is expensive, and requires interface with the Indonesian officialdom, which means delays, endless amounts of paperwork and, in some cases, baksheesh (bribery). We were loath to deal with this any more, so we decided to check out of the country at Kumai. Harry organized our clearance for just US$25. This meant that technically, we were meant to proceed directly to our next port of call, which was Singapore, so we would have to be in stealth mode for the rest of the time we were island hopping in Indonesian waters.

The following day we took on a bit of fuel, got some washing done, picked up a few provisions, did some email, said our goodbyes to the friends we had made in Kumai, and prepared for the last stretch of our Indonesian tour, the 600-mile island hop to Singapore. We had thoroughly enjoyed ourselves in Kumai and it was the first place in Indonesia that we were truly sad to leave.

The following morning, we easily retraced our track down the Kumai River with the tide ebbing, and took a long 115-mile leg to Pulau Mangkut. Typical of sailing and flying, the leg was hours of total boredom punctuated by a few moments of sheer terror. As we approached the small islet, we were motor sailing in light air, following the 10 meter contour. All of a sudden, I noticed a strong current on the nose, the seas started stacking up and the bottom was coming up fast. The last thing that I wanted was to crest one of these waves and then be dropped on the bottom, pushing the keel through the hull of the boat. I dashed to the helm, switched off the autopilot and threw the helm hard to port, where there were no standing waves and the chart showed deeper water. Within 30 seconds both the bottom and my heartbeat had receded substantially - and we had not even kissed the bottom. An hour later at around midnight, with a good moon, we made our way into a safe but rather rolly anchorage for the night in the lee of a small, rocky islet.

We were underway early the next morning, and sailed most of the day with the spinnaker. It was another long day sail, but this time the destination was much more to our liking. We arrived late that evening at a lovely bay on the north side of Serutu Island, and were guided to a safe anchorage by some yachties already at anchor. After two long sailing days, we took a day's rest and enjoyed the beauty and quiet of this uninhabited bay.

From Serutu, we made a short 15-mile hop over to Carimata Island, and again relaxed in a beautiful anchorage in the lee of the lush, green island. Just ashore from our anchorage was a natural spring where the water was led down to the water's edge in a pipe fashioned from some lengths of bamboo. In the absence of rain, this was apparently the only source of water for two fishing villages on neighboring islands, as there were endless streams of boats and people coming to bathe, wash clothes, and haul away jugs of the beautiful spring water. Unfortunately some of them took the opportunity to make noisy close passes to us, or stop and ask for (and in some cases actually demand) food and clothing. We found a break in the action and went over to check out the water source, having a bath in the spring water. Unfortunately, the anchorage was so infested with flies that it made cooking and eating a bit unpleasant. After a day and a half there, we decided to take the hop across the South China Sea.

We departed Carimata in the morning, and reckoned that we would be able to make Kentar Island before happy hour the following day. This would put us in range of Singapore with just a couple of easy day hops.

Soon after we cleared the small and picturesque islands lying off Carimata, the breeze filled in and we had the spinnaker up, making good speed. This lasted most of the day, but eased to almost nothing by nightfall, so we had to drop the kite in favor of the cast aluminum spinnaker. At about 1230 hours the following day, we crossed the equator. For an instant the GPS showed just goose eggs for the latitude, and the N (for north) was superimposed over the S (for South), indicating the hemisphere we were in. Then, after a magic moment, Moonshadow was back in the northern hemisphere for the first time in eight years. Since Merima hadn't sailed across the line before, she has officially graduated from a "furback" to a "shellback." Since she was the only crew on board, and fearing a mutiny, King Neptune was unusually easy on her. We arrived later that afternoon and took anchorage in the lee of Kentar Island.

We relaxed the next day, anchored off of a small fishing village built on stilts at the water's edge. We were visited by a few very nice and friendly locals. We experienced something completely new to us in Indonesia. Instead of coming up to the boat and asking or demanding something, they brought us a gift. Mind you, it was just a coconut - but we appreciated the lovely green "drinking nut" and the charming gesture. We were so pleasantly surprised that we gave them some clothes and lollies for the kids. They were so appreciative, they gave us another coconut!

Two easy day hops found us within eyeshot of Singapore. Anchored off a small, primitive fishing village built on stilts over the water, it was difficult to fathom that from our third world anchorage, we were gazing across the Singapore Strait at the lighted skyscrapers one of the most modern and cosmopolitan cities in Asia, if not the world.

Although we've sailed more than 60,000 miles since we left Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, nearly eleven years ago, this spot roughly marks the half-way point of our circumnavigation. We're hoping the second half is just half as good as the first half!