March has nearly passed, and as it draws to a close my birthday draws nearer.
On March 25 I will celebrate my 22nd birthday and until yesterday I wasn’t sure if it would be a solitary celebration. But I’ve met three fellow travelers and for the next weeks, until I leave on a sail boat to Indonesia, I anticipate sticking with this group.
Mael, a 26-year-old French man, Soulki, his 24-year-old Korean girlfriend, and Ramy, their 23-year-old French friend, and I are attacking Thailand together. And I will have companion ship when I celebrate my birth-anniversary.
I first met Ramy because he was my neighbor in On On Hotel, where I was staying in Phuket. Mael and Soulki, being a couple, could afford a better room elsewhere.
The four of us congregated in the lobby of On On Hotel, and having been in Phuket three days, I knew my way around enough to act as a guide for their first night in town. We went to the night market, where we ate from street vendors, feasted on sea-food and pad Thai noodles, and poked in and out of shops.
I guess it was a good night because three days later, after having spent one night among the infamous “lady-boys” (gay Thai men who dress up like women) in Padang, which is the party area of Phuket, and hiking through the jungles of one of the world’s oldest rainforests in Koa Sok, we are about to travel 8 hours on a night ferry to Ko Tao.
They are a great trio to be with because we share similar traveling styles—cheap and off the beaten path wherever possible, but this is the first time I’ve traveled with a group since I left Katie and Brian back in New Zealand, nearly three months ago. (I did reconnect with them in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, but we only stayed one night all together in a hostel before I left for the Cameron Highlands.) And there are benefits and restrictions to being with others.
I don’t have as much freedom, and I have to compromise my plans. But in return for these small disadvantages, I’ve made three new friends, can go places at night, and I have someone to share this experience with.
What a great way to grow older.
Monday, March 22, 2010
A new boat...bigger opportunity
Once again I’ve augmented my ever-changing plans. My most recent plan was to visit Cambodia, Vietnam, and Laos and reenter Thailand to the north, then fly to Indonesia and, hopefully, head to Europe by August.
(I’ve applied to teach English in France starting in August, but I’m awaiting a response. I should have more information by May. Until I hear confirmation of being hired or rejected, I’m planning my “time-line” on being accepted…I’m optimistic.)
Instead of circumventing SE Asian’s mainland I will be setting sail again destined for Sumatra, Indonesia with Kevin, a 46-year-old seasoned sailor and surfer from California.
He has invited me to join him as crew aboard his boat, Helena, on a two month surfing safari. I won’t attempt the massive waves that this part of the world (Between Thailand and Indonesia) is renowned for, but there are smaller, beginner-style, waves that don’t look too intimidating. And while Kevin is catching some “black-diamond” surf I will be snorkeling, swimming, and island hopping in some of the last unspoiled areas of the world.
This will be an amazing and challenging experience.
I will see clear waters, exotic fish, village people unaccustomed to pail skin and blond hair, and spend tranquil mornings and nights watching the sun rise and set in the horizon. The beautiful scenery won’t lesson the challenges that the sea and an isolated life aboard a boat can deal.
Kevin is a laid-back guy who is willing to teach me how to sail and surf and hopes that I have an enjoyable trip. I’m not concerned about any awkwardness between us (he has had female crew in the past and we’ve already had the uncomfortable conversation about not seeing this as a relationship opportunity). But no matter how fun we make this adventure, two months with no internet access on a boat with only one other person, and I might feel claustrophobic at times.
I believe the good will outweigh the bad and I’m satisfied I’ve made the right decision.
We set sail the first or second week of April.
(I’ve applied to teach English in France starting in August, but I’m awaiting a response. I should have more information by May. Until I hear confirmation of being hired or rejected, I’m planning my “time-line” on being accepted…I’m optimistic.)
Instead of circumventing SE Asian’s mainland I will be setting sail again destined for Sumatra, Indonesia with Kevin, a 46-year-old seasoned sailor and surfer from California.
He has invited me to join him as crew aboard his boat, Helena, on a two month surfing safari. I won’t attempt the massive waves that this part of the world (Between Thailand and Indonesia) is renowned for, but there are smaller, beginner-style, waves that don’t look too intimidating. And while Kevin is catching some “black-diamond” surf I will be snorkeling, swimming, and island hopping in some of the last unspoiled areas of the world.
This will be an amazing and challenging experience.
I will see clear waters, exotic fish, village people unaccustomed to pail skin and blond hair, and spend tranquil mornings and nights watching the sun rise and set in the horizon. The beautiful scenery won’t lesson the challenges that the sea and an isolated life aboard a boat can deal.
Kevin is a laid-back guy who is willing to teach me how to sail and surf and hopes that I have an enjoyable trip. I’m not concerned about any awkwardness between us (he has had female crew in the past and we’ve already had the uncomfortable conversation about not seeing this as a relationship opportunity). But no matter how fun we make this adventure, two months with no internet access on a boat with only one other person, and I might feel claustrophobic at times.
I believe the good will outweigh the bad and I’m satisfied I’ve made the right decision.
We set sail the first or second week of April.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Redefining "edible"
The Asians I've encountered, and I've heard it's a good generalization, don't waste when it comes to food. For example, chicken isn't eaten off the bone, it is eaten in conjunction with the bone, skin, fat, marrow and cartilage.
Many prefer the “extras” to the meaty muscles I've always considered the only edible part.
When I was in Malaysia I made the mistake only once of not eating the “extras.” Myself and two others were invited to a home cooked meal by Ashim, a Bangladeshi man who worked in our hostel.
It was the best curry I've ever tasted, but I labored over eating the meat of each tiny bite of chicken matter. And soon Ashim noticed my tiny pile of bones. “That is my favorite part. You no like?”
Now I quite enjoy the added crunch and grit in my meat (mostly fish and chicken). I've adjusted to the texture and find it enhances my overall meal experience.
Now I'm building up my tolerance to Thai chilies.
Many prefer the “extras” to the meaty muscles I've always considered the only edible part.
When I was in Malaysia I made the mistake only once of not eating the “extras.” Myself and two others were invited to a home cooked meal by Ashim, a Bangladeshi man who worked in our hostel.
It was the best curry I've ever tasted, but I labored over eating the meat of each tiny bite of chicken matter. And soon Ashim noticed my tiny pile of bones. “That is my favorite part. You no like?”
Now I quite enjoy the added crunch and grit in my meat (mostly fish and chicken). I've adjusted to the texture and find it enhances my overall meal experience.
Now I'm building up my tolerance to Thai chilies.
Hairy leggs
During my two weeks on the sail boat I was without a razor and my hair was allowed to grow untamed.
I wasn't too concerned in the middle of the ocean, but once we hit land I became self-conscious. Phuket is the land of massage and salons parlor so I assumed it would be easy to find somewhere to get my first ever leg and bikini wax.
The idea stuck and I spend my first few days inquiring and miming about places to get the job done. (This was a humbling process.) But I finally found a place in Raiwi Beach. Three days after the discovery I returned to complete the mission.
I spent 1.5 hours at the T&P salon with two Thai ladies ripping the offending hairs, and at times plucking them with tweezers, from my legs. The whole time that I'm trying not to squirm in pain the owner's 2-year-old daughter is handing me toys, putting stickers on my body and at one point plucking the hairs from my arms, mimicking her mother. She was actually a welcomed distraction.
Then it was bikini line time...Of course my first experience had to involve to tiny Thai ladies chattering away in a foreign language armed with wax and fabric. The little girl said “ouch” for me every time they ripped away.
It was worthwhile and I'm still razor less.
I wasn't too concerned in the middle of the ocean, but once we hit land I became self-conscious. Phuket is the land of massage and salons parlor so I assumed it would be easy to find somewhere to get my first ever leg and bikini wax.
The idea stuck and I spend my first few days inquiring and miming about places to get the job done. (This was a humbling process.) But I finally found a place in Raiwi Beach. Three days after the discovery I returned to complete the mission.
I spent 1.5 hours at the T&P salon with two Thai ladies ripping the offending hairs, and at times plucking them with tweezers, from my legs. The whole time that I'm trying not to squirm in pain the owner's 2-year-old daughter is handing me toys, putting stickers on my body and at one point plucking the hairs from my arms, mimicking her mother. She was actually a welcomed distraction.
Then it was bikini line time...Of course my first experience had to involve to tiny Thai ladies chattering away in a foreign language armed with wax and fabric. The little girl said “ouch” for me every time they ripped away.
It was worthwhile and I'm still razor less.
Phuket Problem part II
I'd love to “stick it to the man” and rent a motorbike of my own, which is the preferred and cheaper form of transportation, but I'm too afraid. The streets are congested with lawless traffic.
Road lines are faded suggestions, speed and age limits don't exist and even the direction of traffic flow is open to interpretation. I've seen kids motoring around, with their friends/siblings, and drivers going the wrong way down streets narrowly avoiding head-on collisions. Helmets aren't required, which wasn't the case in Malaysia where I experienced another discrepancy between foreigner and local treatment.
When I was in Malaysia I had hitched a ride to the Yaht club with an old Italian man and was pulled over by the police for not wearing a helmet, even though I had seen hundreds of other passengers, usually kids, helmet-less. The special price for me was a 200 Ringet fine. After some talking, however, I ended up getting a ride to my destination in the police cruiser, without paying the fine.
I guess I don't always mind corruption when it's in my favor.
Road lines are faded suggestions, speed and age limits don't exist and even the direction of traffic flow is open to interpretation. I've seen kids motoring around, with their friends/siblings, and drivers going the wrong way down streets narrowly avoiding head-on collisions. Helmets aren't required, which wasn't the case in Malaysia where I experienced another discrepancy between foreigner and local treatment.
When I was in Malaysia I had hitched a ride to the Yaht club with an old Italian man and was pulled over by the police for not wearing a helmet, even though I had seen hundreds of other passengers, usually kids, helmet-less. The special price for me was a 200 Ringet fine. After some talking, however, I ended up getting a ride to my destination in the police cruiser, without paying the fine.
I guess I don't always mind corruption when it's in my favor.
Phuket problems
I'm pissed because I've been ripped off by a mustached man driving a motorbike taxi.
Thus far I've amicably accepted the inflated rates that foreigners are charged. I've even been benign about the extra charge I receive for not only being a western invasion but for being an American. Even lying about my heritage doesn't help, however. Most SE Asians can detect the USA on my like it's the last remnants of a cheap stick on tattoo, when every incriminated detail is gone but a dirty smear remains. These hounds can sniff it out and make you pay.
I stumbled into this costly predicament and subsequent foul mood by making a compromise.
I wanted to travel from Raiwi Beach to Phuket Town (I had gone to Raiwi for a wax job that I will elaborate on in a later posting). I would normally take the bus, but I was feeling impatient and waiting for the unpredictable bus wasn't appealing. (There are no bus schedules, only that the bus starts running about 8 a.m. And finishes about 4 p.m., also there are no bus stops. You must hail the bus from the side of the road as you would a taxi, if the taxis drove by every thirty minutes that is.) I assessed the alternatives: vehicular taxi, motorbike taxi and walking. Walking 10 km in the 2 p.m. Heat wasn't doable and motorbikes are cheaper than cars, so I decided that if I could find a bike for less than 30 Baht then I would take it (The bus would cost 10 to 20 Baht depending on the mood of the driver and his disposition toward western women.).
I approached a group of orange-vested motorbike drivers lounging in a shaded street corner and asked the price to Phuket Town.
“20 Baht” one old man croaked while holding up the peace sign.
“Deal.” I said as I hopped on the back of a bike.
Fifteen minutes later I was delivered to On On Hotel. I payed the driver 20 B and received a blank stare in return.
“150 B” He said.
I argued my case with no success, we stared off for a few minutes and finally I caved. I was the underdog. I have no idea what normal prices are and this was my first motorbike ride from Raiwi to Phuket town, and I certainly didn't want to be in the wrong or make an enemy.
But it was very rude and inconvenient. (My room costs 180 B a day, how could I justify a 15 minute bike ride that cost 140 B more than my alternative mode of transportation.) It was a costly mistake and now at 3 p.m. I'm still simmering in frustration.
To cool off I walked around a bookstore that I love in town and read titles and authors until I could put things in perspective (150 B = about $7). These things happen, budgets are blown (and I have made my share of indulgences that were more costly than this), western surcharges are added and at the end of the day it's better to accept, relax and enjoy the place for what it is. I must pick the battle s that are worthwhile, and not stress about the things I can't change or control. I'm learning to roll with the punches, and accept the results of challenging situations.
It's a bit like sand in your crack after a day at the beach...Digging for it usually doesn't help, and there is always someone to bare witness, so waiting for it to work itself out is usually the best remedy.
That and blogging about the injustice I've suffered eases my frustration a bit.
Thus far I've amicably accepted the inflated rates that foreigners are charged. I've even been benign about the extra charge I receive for not only being a western invasion but for being an American. Even lying about my heritage doesn't help, however. Most SE Asians can detect the USA on my like it's the last remnants of a cheap stick on tattoo, when every incriminated detail is gone but a dirty smear remains. These hounds can sniff it out and make you pay.
I stumbled into this costly predicament and subsequent foul mood by making a compromise.
I wanted to travel from Raiwi Beach to Phuket Town (I had gone to Raiwi for a wax job that I will elaborate on in a later posting). I would normally take the bus, but I was feeling impatient and waiting for the unpredictable bus wasn't appealing. (There are no bus schedules, only that the bus starts running about 8 a.m. And finishes about 4 p.m., also there are no bus stops. You must hail the bus from the side of the road as you would a taxi, if the taxis drove by every thirty minutes that is.) I assessed the alternatives: vehicular taxi, motorbike taxi and walking. Walking 10 km in the 2 p.m. Heat wasn't doable and motorbikes are cheaper than cars, so I decided that if I could find a bike for less than 30 Baht then I would take it (The bus would cost 10 to 20 Baht depending on the mood of the driver and his disposition toward western women.).
I approached a group of orange-vested motorbike drivers lounging in a shaded street corner and asked the price to Phuket Town.
“20 Baht” one old man croaked while holding up the peace sign.
“Deal.” I said as I hopped on the back of a bike.
Fifteen minutes later I was delivered to On On Hotel. I payed the driver 20 B and received a blank stare in return.
“150 B” He said.
I argued my case with no success, we stared off for a few minutes and finally I caved. I was the underdog. I have no idea what normal prices are and this was my first motorbike ride from Raiwi to Phuket town, and I certainly didn't want to be in the wrong or make an enemy.
But it was very rude and inconvenient. (My room costs 180 B a day, how could I justify a 15 minute bike ride that cost 140 B more than my alternative mode of transportation.) It was a costly mistake and now at 3 p.m. I'm still simmering in frustration.
To cool off I walked around a bookstore that I love in town and read titles and authors until I could put things in perspective (150 B = about $7). These things happen, budgets are blown (and I have made my share of indulgences that were more costly than this), western surcharges are added and at the end of the day it's better to accept, relax and enjoy the place for what it is. I must pick the battle s that are worthwhile, and not stress about the things I can't change or control. I'm learning to roll with the punches, and accept the results of challenging situations.
It's a bit like sand in your crack after a day at the beach...Digging for it usually doesn't help, and there is always someone to bare witness, so waiting for it to work itself out is usually the best remedy.
That and blogging about the injustice I've suffered eases my frustration a bit.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Simple Pleasures in Phuket Town
At 8 a.m. I left my shabby, high-ceilinged room that is costing about $7 a night and comes with exotic charm, all wood floors, a ceiling fan, a hard double bed with all white sheets, a small wooden sink and hanging mirror and two large windows shedding a white paint that is dirty from car exhaust –a neighboring room was the scene in the movie “The Beach” staring Leonardo DeCaprio.
The air was already hot and sticky with humidity and instantly my nose was invaded by the smell of fish soup. I walked down the street insearch of caffeine and the offending fish.
“Good morning mam,” the cheerful barista at a mobile coffee stand grinned. “Oh so sorry the coffee machine no working” (she is still smiling while delivering the sad news).
She saw my face drop and quickly recovered by adding, “But we have Nescafe.” Another big smile.
Nescafe is the local instant coffee that is thick and burnt tasting, but can easily be enhance with milk and sugar (or the very popular sweet milk, which is a thick condensed milk cream). I bought my coffee and did a bow, my hands folded in front of my face. We shared a few more smiles and then I sat at a table in the shade near her mobile stand, briefly abandoned my post to buy a few sliced of papaya and pineapple and returned to enjoy my bounty over my recently purchased book Ëmma” by Jane Austen.
These are some of my favorite moments. Sitting, surrounded by locals, enjoying a cup of coffee and fruit with my book and journal spread across the table. Everyone here loves smiling as much as I do and we all exchange toothy grins whenever eye-contact occurs, so I can’t help but feel optimistic about the day ahead. There is complete freedom of choice today. Whatever I want to do, within my budget (I won’t be commuting to a remote island for snorkeling and diving) and safety (I won’t be renting a motorbike and joining the lawless traffic that sends hundreds of tourist to hospitals weekly) I can do. It’s an exciting prospect.
Like my cup of coffee and fruit, I find cheap thrills everywhere. Mastering the local buses, and being the only westerner onboard, fills me with pride and joy, and walking around the city, having brief conversations with vendors in broken English and miming makes me feel connected to this foreign world.
Almost every day I meet interesting people with whom I can share bits of this experience.
Last night I met two girls – Anna from London and Ing from Holland – and the three of us meandered around, discovered a night market and later a pub In a part of old Phuket town that rarely sees western faces. Anna and I shared a good laugh when a rat nearly ran into our table as Ing was chatting with the bartender – rodents remind of the differences between here and home.
Hygienic or not the food here is amazing and I would gladly grow fat on the fruits of this place. Thank goodness it’s cheap.
The air was already hot and sticky with humidity and instantly my nose was invaded by the smell of fish soup. I walked down the street insearch of caffeine and the offending fish.
“Good morning mam,” the cheerful barista at a mobile coffee stand grinned. “Oh so sorry the coffee machine no working” (she is still smiling while delivering the sad news).
She saw my face drop and quickly recovered by adding, “But we have Nescafe.” Another big smile.
Nescafe is the local instant coffee that is thick and burnt tasting, but can easily be enhance with milk and sugar (or the very popular sweet milk, which is a thick condensed milk cream). I bought my coffee and did a bow, my hands folded in front of my face. We shared a few more smiles and then I sat at a table in the shade near her mobile stand, briefly abandoned my post to buy a few sliced of papaya and pineapple and returned to enjoy my bounty over my recently purchased book Ëmma” by Jane Austen.
These are some of my favorite moments. Sitting, surrounded by locals, enjoying a cup of coffee and fruit with my book and journal spread across the table. Everyone here loves smiling as much as I do and we all exchange toothy grins whenever eye-contact occurs, so I can’t help but feel optimistic about the day ahead. There is complete freedom of choice today. Whatever I want to do, within my budget (I won’t be commuting to a remote island for snorkeling and diving) and safety (I won’t be renting a motorbike and joining the lawless traffic that sends hundreds of tourist to hospitals weekly) I can do. It’s an exciting prospect.
Like my cup of coffee and fruit, I find cheap thrills everywhere. Mastering the local buses, and being the only westerner onboard, fills me with pride and joy, and walking around the city, having brief conversations with vendors in broken English and miming makes me feel connected to this foreign world.
Almost every day I meet interesting people with whom I can share bits of this experience.
Last night I met two girls – Anna from London and Ing from Holland – and the three of us meandered around, discovered a night market and later a pub In a part of old Phuket town that rarely sees western faces. Anna and I shared a good laugh when a rat nearly ran into our table as Ing was chatting with the bartender – rodents remind of the differences between here and home.
Hygienic or not the food here is amazing and I would gladly grow fat on the fruits of this place. Thank goodness it’s cheap.
Sailing Continued...
The sailing experience was rewarding and I’m grateful that Gary risked having an inexperienced crew aboard (I could have been a seasick mess and ruined the trip for both of us, which is always a possibility for anyone without much boating experience.). Also I’m indebted to him for making coffee every morning and indulging me in my caffeine addiction. We had a great trip together, discussed all the world’s problems including environmental, social and political and debated the warrants of various rules and regulations.
Mostly unknown to him, however, was my gnawing need for greater independence. At times I felt like a child constantly waiting for permission and affirmation. Many times I was unsure my duties on deck or how I should behave. It’s easy to crack the eggshells underfoot when there is so little walking space. Where could I sit without being in the way and still show that I was eager to learn the ins and outs of raising the mainsail or aligning our path on the GPS? Constantly changing instructions and protocols massaged my frustration. I couldn’t seem to do things the right way because the rule book was changing and until the error was made and identified I was ignorant of its alterations.
Temporarily living under someone else’s ceiling is tolerable, but I enjoy having control over my time and situation – or making compromises on circumstances, but unless a person has worked with a skipper for some time and built up solid report, or is in a relationship with him or her, negotiations are limited.
I’m still eager to sail and I’m looking forward to my next venture, but I’m more aware of the risks at sea – changing winds, ruff currents, and underwater fishing nets, and the importance of crew compatibility. Before I was all too zealous about boats and cared little for who the captain was, but now I understand the influence the driver has over making or breaking a trip.
Gary taught me a lot about sailing and reminded me the importance of confidence and self-assertion. I would be interested in another brief future voyage.
Mostly unknown to him, however, was my gnawing need for greater independence. At times I felt like a child constantly waiting for permission and affirmation. Many times I was unsure my duties on deck or how I should behave. It’s easy to crack the eggshells underfoot when there is so little walking space. Where could I sit without being in the way and still show that I was eager to learn the ins and outs of raising the mainsail or aligning our path on the GPS? Constantly changing instructions and protocols massaged my frustration. I couldn’t seem to do things the right way because the rule book was changing and until the error was made and identified I was ignorant of its alterations.
Temporarily living under someone else’s ceiling is tolerable, but I enjoy having control over my time and situation – or making compromises on circumstances, but unless a person has worked with a skipper for some time and built up solid report, or is in a relationship with him or her, negotiations are limited.
I’m still eager to sail and I’m looking forward to my next venture, but I’m more aware of the risks at sea – changing winds, ruff currents, and underwater fishing nets, and the importance of crew compatibility. Before I was all too zealous about boats and cared little for who the captain was, but now I understand the influence the driver has over making or breaking a trip.
Gary taught me a lot about sailing and reminded me the importance of confidence and self-assertion. I would be interested in another brief future voyage.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Sailing- Malaysia to Thailand
After seven days of sailing and three nights in a Thailand harbor with Gary, the skipper of 'Shearwater' (the 32' vessel that carried us from Langkawi, Malaysia to Phuket, Thailand), I'm back on land.
It was an educational experience full of beauty, challenges, and uncommonly good weather. For two weeks the sun was shining and the skies were blissfully blue. At night the clear skies, unpolluted by artificial light, revealed layers of stars – bright burning fires and misty clusters that hinted at the far of galaxies. Every morning I drank coffee to the sun rising over the ocean, emerging from the horizon or from behind the islands that protected throughout the night from crashing waves. During the evenings I had a front row seat to some of the most majestic sunsets. The reddened sun would spread a pink blush through out the sky that faded into a rosy glow- the final hint of the blazing heat that burned and browned my skin throughout the afternoon.
The sun was fierce throughout the day and even with 50 SPF and a sun shade across the stern (back of the boat) I debarked from the boat browner than I had entered. My tan is relatively even because I rotated bathing suits and outfits to balance the sun-exposed skin.
En route to Phuket the scenery was straight from a fairy tale with lush green islands standing erect amid an ocean so vast that often these green and rocky giants were our only companions. Above the surface paradise reigned, but below was a sadder story over-fishing and polluting. Everyday I was snorkeling and swimming in waters with 15' visibility and I would rarely see fish – never a shark (no complaints there). The ocean has been raped of her resources...I only hope it is resilient enough to bounce back should we ever give it the opportunity to.
In addition to the scenery, life on the boat was a study -- an educational experienced coached by Gary. Working the boat and daily duties weren't easy and for a novice sailor I had a lot to learn and even little things like cooking while the boat is rocking to and fro was challenging. I'm happy to report that I didn't suffer seasickness and that helped pave the way for an easier assimilation into this lifestyle.
There was a daily routine: we sailed, or rather motored because often the wind wasn't in our favor, for about 5.5 hours a day, would anchor in a bay sheltered by island – rarely would we go to shore, but instead we swam and snorkeled near our anchorage. A few days we geared up the dingy, a small paddle or motored boat that is on the sailboat, and headed to an island beach. Mornings we were up early and starting the day before the sun could heat the wood and metal deck, making it difficult to work around the deck. The sails were up or the motor on by 9 a.m. and the anchor was dropped around 2 or 3 p.m. Mass amounts of water and peanuts were consumed before testing the waters. We had to check and double check that everything was in order on the boat, lest we were hit by bad weather. There is little to no forgiveness for errors on a boat because a simple mistake or failing to properly prepare could mean life or death in a storm.
When we weren't in commute or preparing the boat for sailing and anchorage we did a lot of relaxing, eating and sweating in the blazing sun, which is not only raining down from the heavens but is being reflected from the water all around the boat.
The living space available was conservative and keeps all on board in close proximity to one another. On deck there was a small walking space around the perimeter (along the railings) and below deck there was space in the front where Gary slept, a tiny bathroom, kitchen and two cushioned benched that acted as storage, seating and bedding (this is where I slept). Usually every surface (including my pseudo bed) was covered in things not being used- mast covers, sails, ropes, cushions, etc. and only one person could easily walk from one end of the boat to the other without a traffic jam.
The heat, conservative space and limited entertainment demanded a slower-paced life and boredom was usually creeping in on me when I wasn't looking. There were few distractions (no TV, media, or other societal distractions) and since 'Shearwater' wasn't my boat I was completely dependent on Gary's instruction, permission and time-tables. We sailed, ate, swam, went to shore and turned on music according to his convenience and mood, which is understandable since this is his home for 11 months a year and a 2 week seaside escape for me. This trip afforded me views and opportunities that others pay thousands of dollars to see and do. I paid about $100 bucks to share fuel and food costs. A steal.
More updates to come...
It was an educational experience full of beauty, challenges, and uncommonly good weather. For two weeks the sun was shining and the skies were blissfully blue. At night the clear skies, unpolluted by artificial light, revealed layers of stars – bright burning fires and misty clusters that hinted at the far of galaxies. Every morning I drank coffee to the sun rising over the ocean, emerging from the horizon or from behind the islands that protected throughout the night from crashing waves. During the evenings I had a front row seat to some of the most majestic sunsets. The reddened sun would spread a pink blush through out the sky that faded into a rosy glow- the final hint of the blazing heat that burned and browned my skin throughout the afternoon.
The sun was fierce throughout the day and even with 50 SPF and a sun shade across the stern (back of the boat) I debarked from the boat browner than I had entered. My tan is relatively even because I rotated bathing suits and outfits to balance the sun-exposed skin.
En route to Phuket the scenery was straight from a fairy tale with lush green islands standing erect amid an ocean so vast that often these green and rocky giants were our only companions. Above the surface paradise reigned, but below was a sadder story over-fishing and polluting. Everyday I was snorkeling and swimming in waters with 15' visibility and I would rarely see fish – never a shark (no complaints there). The ocean has been raped of her resources...I only hope it is resilient enough to bounce back should we ever give it the opportunity to.
In addition to the scenery, life on the boat was a study -- an educational experienced coached by Gary. Working the boat and daily duties weren't easy and for a novice sailor I had a lot to learn and even little things like cooking while the boat is rocking to and fro was challenging. I'm happy to report that I didn't suffer seasickness and that helped pave the way for an easier assimilation into this lifestyle.
There was a daily routine: we sailed, or rather motored because often the wind wasn't in our favor, for about 5.5 hours a day, would anchor in a bay sheltered by island – rarely would we go to shore, but instead we swam and snorkeled near our anchorage. A few days we geared up the dingy, a small paddle or motored boat that is on the sailboat, and headed to an island beach. Mornings we were up early and starting the day before the sun could heat the wood and metal deck, making it difficult to work around the deck. The sails were up or the motor on by 9 a.m. and the anchor was dropped around 2 or 3 p.m. Mass amounts of water and peanuts were consumed before testing the waters. We had to check and double check that everything was in order on the boat, lest we were hit by bad weather. There is little to no forgiveness for errors on a boat because a simple mistake or failing to properly prepare could mean life or death in a storm.
When we weren't in commute or preparing the boat for sailing and anchorage we did a lot of relaxing, eating and sweating in the blazing sun, which is not only raining down from the heavens but is being reflected from the water all around the boat.
The living space available was conservative and keeps all on board in close proximity to one another. On deck there was a small walking space around the perimeter (along the railings) and below deck there was space in the front where Gary slept, a tiny bathroom, kitchen and two cushioned benched that acted as storage, seating and bedding (this is where I slept). Usually every surface (including my pseudo bed) was covered in things not being used- mast covers, sails, ropes, cushions, etc. and only one person could easily walk from one end of the boat to the other without a traffic jam.
The heat, conservative space and limited entertainment demanded a slower-paced life and boredom was usually creeping in on me when I wasn't looking. There were few distractions (no TV, media, or other societal distractions) and since 'Shearwater' wasn't my boat I was completely dependent on Gary's instruction, permission and time-tables. We sailed, ate, swam, went to shore and turned on music according to his convenience and mood, which is understandable since this is his home for 11 months a year and a 2 week seaside escape for me. This trip afforded me views and opportunities that others pay thousands of dollars to see and do. I paid about $100 bucks to share fuel and food costs. A steal.
More updates to come...
Friday, March 5, 2010
Malaysia
In less than 30 minutes I will be setting sail on "Shearwater" from Langkawi, Malaysia to Phuket, Thailand.
The past two weeks have been spent on Malyasian soil from Kuala Lumpur to the Cameron Highlands to Penang and finally to Langkawi, and now I will make my way across the waves with Gary, a middle-aged man from Michigan, who is also a long time sailor, photographer and diver. Bless him for having the patience to take me, a novice sailor, as crew.
The journey will be full of snorkeling, island hopping and sight-seeing. in addition to the oceanic fun, this experience promises to be a good introduction to the reality of sailing and living on a boat.
I'm not running away from the terre firma because Malaysia left much to be desired- quite the contrary!
After two days spent with Katie and Brian in Kuala Lumpur (the capital of Malayia) I parted from the pair for good and headed on a solo journey full of jungle hiking, Chinese new year's celebrations, Malaysian cultural discoveries - food (mainly a mix of Chinese and Indian, dress (conservative in this Muslim culture and all clothes should come to a girl's knees and elbows) and decorum (eating with hands, squatting on toilet that look like horizontal urinals and using a hose to spray yourself off and of course not wearing shoes in doors (feet are rude and dirty).
The time has been spent well and I look forward to these next days to come!
The past two weeks have been spent on Malyasian soil from Kuala Lumpur to the Cameron Highlands to Penang and finally to Langkawi, and now I will make my way across the waves with Gary, a middle-aged man from Michigan, who is also a long time sailor, photographer and diver. Bless him for having the patience to take me, a novice sailor, as crew.
The journey will be full of snorkeling, island hopping and sight-seeing. in addition to the oceanic fun, this experience promises to be a good introduction to the reality of sailing and living on a boat.
I'm not running away from the terre firma because Malaysia left much to be desired- quite the contrary!
After two days spent with Katie and Brian in Kuala Lumpur (the capital of Malayia) I parted from the pair for good and headed on a solo journey full of jungle hiking, Chinese new year's celebrations, Malaysian cultural discoveries - food (mainly a mix of Chinese and Indian, dress (conservative in this Muslim culture and all clothes should come to a girl's knees and elbows) and decorum (eating with hands, squatting on toilet that look like horizontal urinals and using a hose to spray yourself off and of course not wearing shoes in doors (feet are rude and dirty).
The time has been spent well and I look forward to these next days to come!
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