Second Bottle - A Papuan Brew

Dear reader this post is written i triumph with blistered fingers. We have reached half-way mark for the great circumnavigation, the Westernmost city of Sorong.

First you will experience a strong bouquet of gasoline and Indonesian spices. Next, the tannins of crocodile infested rivers will take you afloat, until you are hit by a stormy body, dark and salty, holding a percentage that can blow even the bravest sailors off their feet.

This is a drink like no other, but if you hold fast, keep thy senses and ride trough to the end, your palate will be overwhelmed by a relieving finish of soft corals and swaying anemones, along with that distinct sweet taste, which offsets all hardship, calling your exhausted soul to down another one.

Enter Indonesia

Jayapura is the capital of Papua, the Indonesian half of the island. A big city full of speeding scooters, food stalls and glass buildings, selfie-sticks and diode lighters. A big contrast to the quiet town of Vanimo in PNG. 

Encounter at sea

Tawali Pasana in distress

Sailing against the prevailing North Westerly winds called for a new tactic if we ever were to cover the 1200km to the birds head. The high seas also ment big breaking waves along the coast, limiting our options to land the canoe safely.

The solution was to do long non-stop etapes when the wind was fair. On the longest of these etapes, 250km, it nearly went wrong. We sailed out from the small town of Sarmi at 22:00 well stocked with energy drinks for our three days and three nights to the Padaido islands, east of Biak. 

The wind was very tricky and we made slow progress against the prevailing current and the outflows of the many jungle rivers.

On the third night the moon shone bright upon the open sea and we made good pace. But by midnight, the moon was erased by coal clouds and we saw flashes in the horizon.

Had there been a fisherman folly enough to to venture out in this ominous night, he would have noticed the silhouette of a square sail tracking steadily trough the pacific swells, a black speck on a gray draping surrounded by flashing thunder clouds.

But knowing that they had 40 km to nearest land he might doubt that this luck would last all the way to daybreak. The black dot dissolved in the horizon.

I felt a cold wind in my face and saw a black wall approaching us. Justin yelled something to Sana in their Nuakata language, Sana awoke like a Jack in the box. The lightnings had eased off and we were surrounded by an increasing darkness.  “Big wind coming! You take sail down.” said Justin.

We rapidly secured the sail in the canoe and had barely time to secure any belongings before we got hit by the black wall. All light went out and from the darkness came a fury of hailing rain, spitting sea and hammering wind. This was no ordinary squall.

It was very violent conditions. Every time a wave broke on the outrigger it got sucked down with such a force that it felt like a miracle every time it popped up again.  

We could do nothing but wrap ourselves with the sail and hold fast. I looked at Sana and Justins faces and their eyes relieved no comfort. 
 

Being in the mist of all this chaos was rather frightening, not least because I did not know the capabilities and limits of the vessel that I was clinging on to.

I asked Justin how serious the situation was, he did not answer. I asked him if I should call for help. He was still quiet, just staring into the dark, he then said: "You call."

First i was considering the SOS button on our satellite transmitter, but our lifes weren't in immediate danger - yet.

Instead I turned on our VHF radio and called PAN PAN. I tried a couple of times but nobody answered,

I looked at the GPS and calculated our drift, although we were drifting with three knots, in the wrong direction but it would be six hours before we hit the cliffs of Yapen island.
 

The clock showed 4.45 AM so it wouldn't be too long to daybreak. Another positive factor. The waves had been pounding for about 15 minutes now, but the outrigger hadn't broken off yet and the boat was still upright - great stuff! 
 

I told Sana to put out our drift anchor and have the bush knife ready to cut us off, then we wrapped in to the sail and started the long wait for daybreak.

By the first meager ray of light a warmth rushed trough my soul.

As light increased the wind and sea subsided. The waves were still steep but managble, we hoisted the storm sail and regained control of our vessel and destiny.

Going down south

The next leg of the voyage takes us trough some of the most remote parts Indonesian Papua.

The geographical features here are very different, with long flat beaches, mangroves and great many rivers. Although this area is prime habitat for crocodiles and mosquitos, the main concern is still the wind.

We finally have the wind at our back but soon the seasons will change and send the S-E Tradewinds right on our nose. Tawali Pasana still got a long way home.