Tuesday 16th to Sunday 21st July 2019

We headed off from Thursday Island at 9am in a group of 16 yachts including Swedish friends Ingvar & Tuija on Hakuna Matata which, at 37 foot, is a similar size to Vega. We were soon left behind by the larger monohulls and catamarans and even Hakuna Matata started to pull ahead of us.

Our smallish genoa, great for sailing into the wind in the U.K., is just not big enough for effective downwind sailing. We had our cruising chute out for a few hours but there was mostly too much wind for such a big sail. The wind stayed about 15 to 20 knots for most of the trip, which is just about perfect sailing conditions, and I soon regretted dissuading Hugh from getting our huge old genoa from where it is stored in the attic of our Bristol house and having it shipped out to Australia earlier this year. It would have been ideal for all the downwind sailing that we’ll be doing in Indonesia. The best sail combination we settled on for the trip was the genoa out to starboard and the smaller staysail poled out on the port side, which gave a stable, easy sail with the wind just about behind us.

There was a strong current which, when it was with us had us happily speeding along at over 7 knots but, when against, had us anxiously crawling towards Indonesia at 4.5 knots. Mostly though we were doing around 6 knots, what we’d consider good sailing, averaging 130 -140 miles a day for the 700 mile passage.

The main hazards we were all watching out for were Indonesian squid fishing and trawling boats which set up nets which can be several miles long, supported by often unlit floats and buoys. Only a few of the larger fishing vessels have AIS and not all of the others show up on radar, so as soon as we left Australian waters we were watching out for nets in the water, almost impossible in the day to spot until you are right upon them and totally impossible at night. One night I could see a red/green flashing light on our port side which appeared to be several miles away, but nothing else. It was only when we felt a shudder pass through Vega as she slowed, then heard a dull boom as she appeared to hesitate then pull ahead again, that we realised we had caught and broken through one of the nets. Only then could I see a distant flashing white light off to the starboard side, the other end of the net. The next day we felt the same slowing and jerking as we caught on another net and broke through, and looking back we could just about see some white floats in the water, but there were no fishing boats around.

Some other boats were not so lucky. Jon, a single handed sailor on Hecla, caught fast in a net one night and spent an uncomfortable and anxious four hours until daybreak when the fishing boat arrived, reeling in the net. He told how the huge vessel approached worryingly near, looming above him, with the fishermen laughing down at him. Then two of them jumped into the water, swam under his yacht, released the net from where it had caught and he was free. Another yacht that was similarly caught was given fish as compensation before being released.

Some of the Indonesian fishing boats fish in groups of maybe a hundred boats forming a ‘fishing village’ covering a massive area of the sea. The rally fleet had formed a communication group to pass information around about where the hazards were, through SSB radio (which we don’t have) and satellite email groups. We had the waypoints of one of these groups of fishing boats and had to divert to avoid it, sailing an extra 20 miles west of our planned route to skirt around the edge of it. Other yachts tried the strategy of looking up which route large cargo ships sail through these waters and taking the same course, but even this wasn’t a guarantee as the cargo ships also have to divert to avoid the fishing fleets.

Another night we could see a yellow light on the horizon directly in our path, a fishing boat but we couldn’t determine in which direction it was sailing. As we neared it a startlingly bright laser beam of blue light was shone from the boat, at us, then upwards illuminating the sky and reflecting off the clouds, before sweeping across the sea around it. We were totally confused. We got the message, keep away, but which way to go? We tried turning to starboard, more sweeping light shone at us, so turned away and headed off to port to take a 5 mile diversion away from it. We passed other boats that night and neither of us got much sleep.

Apart from all the excitement of the fishing boats and nets it was an easy sail. We were too lazy to fish ourselves and are there any fish in the sea anyway with all these fishing vessels around? We ate well though. I’d made a lamb casserole before we left which lasted for two meals and we had a free range chicken to cook with Thai curry sauce for another two suppers. We did our usual watch pattern of three hours on and three hours off overnight and, for once, I slept well on passage.

One day we had visitors. A pod of dolphins came and played by the bow for a while, the first dolphins we’d seen this year. Later a large seabird perched on the railings at the transom, preened itself then slept before heading off at first light, leaving me it’s mess to clear off the deck. Another, rather rough night flying fish landed on Vega in their scores. Any within reach I grabbed, wriggling and flapping, and threw them back overboard but by morning the deck was covered in their stiff little corpses.

After five days at sea we were relieved to arrive in Debut in the Kei Islands in eastern Indonesia and join the rally fleet at anchor in the bay there. Within a couple of hours of our arrival Immigration, Quarantine and Customs came on board to check us in……