Hello! The crew of Che Figata here, reporting from beautiful Cocos Keeling Islands. As you know, next on the hit parade following our departure from Lombok was the sail west across the Indian Ocean. The rally had us following a fairly typical sail plan with several stops along the way. The first leg of this journey was to Cocos Keeling Islands which would be about 1,150 nautical miles. Though that’s not a terribly long passage as passages go (~7 days), it’s nice, when possible, to shorten the days at sea (and spice up the journey) with stops at remote ports. In this case, Christmas Island was conveniently located along our path, about 2/3 of the way to Cocos Keeling Islands (625 nautical miles west of Lombok), so the good folks at the World Cruising Club (the organizers of our rally) scheduled a brief visit there. Thus the first part of our voyage across the Indian Ocean became a passage in two acts.
Act 1: The sail to Christmas Island and our brief visit there.
Christmas Island is a small island with a largely inaccessible, rocky coast, save for one bay, Flying Fish Cove. To prevent damage to the healthy coral reef surrounding the island no anchoring is permitted there. Instead, to visit the island by private yacht you must pick up one of the sanctioned mooring buoys. Being a relatively small bay, Flying Fish Cove only has 7 mooring buoys. Of course, there were 28 boats in our fleet departing from Lombok. To address this small logistical challenge, the WCC split our fleet into 2 groups, leaving 2 days apart, and assigned us each a mooring buoy which we would share with another vessel. In short, 14 sailboats sharing 7 moorings for a 2 day stay. We set sail with the first group on September 20th. (BTW, don’t worry, there’s a lot more information about Christmas Island below.)
The sail took almost exactly 4 days and, overall, it was quite pleasant. While there was variation day-to-day in wind direction and speed, most of the time the wind cooperated, allowing us to keep the engine off with adjustments to our sail plan. Similarly, save for the evening of our first day — when we entered the Indian Ocean and strong currents pushed against waves and wind coming from the opposite direction producing some epic rollers — the seas were relatively calm. It was what sailors refer to as Champagne Sailing: those quintessential sails when the wind and waves are gentle and consistent, creating a smooth glide through the water. Add a tablespoon of glorious sunrises and sunsets, a teaspoon of clear black skies filled with bright stars and a dash of bioluminescence and you’ve got the ingredients for a perfect passage. Ahhhhhhh.
It was truly perfect except for one thing: those pesky boat dramas — and we had several. The first drama occurred on the night of day 3 of our passage when our bilge alarm sounded. At first we ignored it thinking that it was the alarm to our aft bilge. Being at the stern of our boat, water from waves does sometimes find its way in there and that can cause the bilge alarm to sound when the boat heels in one direction. Unfortunately, as we were changing watch at 2 AM (yes, of course it was 2 AM) we realized that alarm was from the bilge in the center of the boat that contains our grey water (the run off from our galley sink). Zack opened the bilge and it was practically filled to the brim. Yikes! While we know that when things go wrong it is generally something simple and not catastrophic, when your bilge is filled with water it is safer to assume the worst and then learn that the cause was actually the best scenario than assume and act upon the best scenario when the cause was the worst case scenario. Translated into English, without the run-on sentence, that means that we immediately got into survival mode and acted as if the full bilge was due to a leak. That included using the manual bilge pump and, when that appeared to not be keeping up with the water ingress, getting out the auxiliary pump we have on the boat and using that to quickly pump out the water. Simultaneously, we were trouble shooting root cause (e.g., looking for water elsewhere to identify if there was a leak and assessing the bilge itself to see if there is a mechanical malfunction responsible for the water).
We will cut once chase and report that we did not have a leak — at least not a major one. Two separate issues combined together to cause the problem. First, our float switch that detects the water level and activates the automatic bilge pump was not working. We think it got knocked out of position during the day we had those rough seas. Second, there was junk blocking the hose that sucks the water out of the bilge. That is why, even when we had activated the bilge pump manually, it appeared to not be keeping up with the inflow. In actuality, no material amount of water was coming in but nothing was going out either. After 3 days at sea with lots of home cooked meals, and a corresponding level of dirty dishes that required washing, perhaps was enough dishwater to fill the bilge? (Important side note: though this may come as a shock, Jill likes her dishes very clean. With a water maker on board she has the luxury of being able to engage in extreme dishwashing with a thorough rinse. 😀) So, okay, our boat didn’t have a major leak (though the exact source of the water remains a mystery) and wasn’t sinking. Still, we got quite an adrenaline rush until we ruled out that worst case scenario. On a positive note, we now know two useful things. First, our bilge alarm works (good to know!) and, second, after being stored on our boat for 8 years without seeing the light of day, our auxiliary pump works like a champ. (The float switch, on the other hand, didn’t continue to work consistently. Possible replacement of the float switch became one more item added to Zack’s boat repair list.)
The second bit of drama occurred as we approached Christmas Island and fired up our engine. Our oil pressure alarm sounded and our engine automatically went into safe mode which severely limits the RPMs. Again, we had to assume the worst — that there really was a problem with our oil pressure — and we immediately turned off the engine. If the worst case came to fruition, we’d have a real problem. We may be able to anchor under sail (with some difficulty) but we certainly can’t pick up a mooring buoy and tied on to another sailboat that way. Another adrenaline rush in the making! Zack quickly went below to check the engine and noticed that the engine control unit (ECU) was knocked off its mount on the engine though it was still attached by wires. (More collateral damage from that first sporty evening with big seas?) Upon seeing the ECU dangling we assumed that a connection might have came loose when the ECU dislodged or something broke within the unit. Though that seemed to be the likely cause we checked the other usual suspects including the oil level. Happily, everything checked out as it should. After doing a temporary fix to reattach the ECU (you’ve got to love zip ties!), and playing with some connections, the engine worked intermittently without sounding the alarm. Importantly, it worked long enough to get us to the mooring!!! Of course, we couldn’t leave Christmas Island without either fixing whatever failure was causing the false oil pressure alarm or disarming the alarm so the the engine wouldn’t go into safe mode and torture us with that retched ringing sound and low RPMs. Though we are getting a little ahead of ourselves, we are thrilled to share that with the help of the local harbor master we found a great engine mechanic on the island who came by at 4 PM on the day of our arrival. He quickly diagnosed the issue (a bad oil pressure switch). Though he didn’t have a spare part, he was able to do a work around that would prevent our engine from getting a false reading. We were very happy to have a solution that would allow us to move forward until we were at a location where we could get a replacement part installed, most likely South Africa.
The only other unfortunate (though not dramatic) occurrence was the Dax (along with many other crew members from other boats participating in the rally) seemed to develop a bad case of “Bali Belly” while in Indonesia. This is a non-medical term for a traveler’s gastrointestinal illness caused by consuming food or water contaminated with unfamiliar bacteria, viruses, or parasites. Though it can happen anywhere, it is very common in Indonesia. (Hence the name). Double unfortunately, Dax came down with his symptoms right before we set sail for Christmas Island with the worst stomach symptoms not occurring until we were underway. As a result we assumed most of what he was experiencing was classic seasickness. We will get ahead of ourselves again and say that when he didn’t seem much better after our arrival at Christmas Island we began to suspect that there was something else going on and we started him on a Z-Pak. Though he was weak from not eating much over the course of 4 days, his symptoms resolved pretty quickly. Dax is getting the full sailor’s experience: middle of the night wake up calls to deal with some urgent situations (e.g., a full bilge) and travelers illness. Fun! (More on that below.)
We arrived at Christmas Island on September 24 almost exactly 4 days after we set sail from Lombok. Christmas Island is a territory of Australia. It is a small island of only 52 square miles and about 1,500 permanent residents. Historically, most residents were of Chinese and Malay descent, brought over from Singapore, Malaysia and China as indentured servants in the late 1800s when the British started phosphate mining on the island. Today, however, there is a mix of residents who are European Australians, Chinese, Malaysian and Indian. The official language is English though only 59% of residents speak English well with most of the remainder speaking Mandarin or Malay. As you might suspect from the ethnicity of today’s islanders, religious life on the island is similarly diverse with residents practicing Christianity, Tau and Islam. Yet the cultures live very harmoniously on the island which is one of its charms.
Despite the phosphate mining (which continues today but is winding down due to a depletion of resources), Christmas Island has remained relatively pristine. 65% of the island is national park and its remote location and inaccessible shoreline (mentioned above) has kept development away. As a result, the waters around the island are brimming with healthy coral and a large variety of reef fish and the island is home to many bird species, some of them endemic to the island.
Geologically, Christmas Island is very reminiscent of the tiny island of Niue we visited while sailing across the Pacific. Like Niue, it is a volcanic island with stunning exposed limestone rock accumulated from coral growth. This makes for a magnificent coast line dotted with grottos, limestone formations and blowholes. Rain water from the island’s rainy season runs down from the mountains through the limestone before exiting into the ocean, acting a a natural filter and contributing to the crystal clear water. Between the water’s clarity and underwater formations, Christmas Island is a snorkelers’ and divers’ paradise. Unfortunately, our brief 48 hour stay did not give us sufficient time to go on a dive (we were busy with mundane things like purchasing more diesel — which we had to transport to the boat via jerrycan — cleaning, provisioning for the continuation sail to Cocos Keeling Islands and getting our engine issue sorted) but Jill did get in a quick a snorkel in Flying Fish Cove the morning of our departure. She swam through diverse schools of brightly colored reef fish darting in and out of the coral which included many of our favorites from our diving across the Pacific (triggerfish, butterflyfish, parrotfish and angelfish) and some very intriguing Indian Ocean fish she had never seen before. Her favorite was a brownish fish shaped somewhat like triggerfish with what looked like small bright orange cones or spikes protruding outward from the area immediately in front of its tail fin. Despite several Google and ChatGPT searches she has not been able to identify that one. Time to acquire a “Reef Fish of the Indian Ocean” guidebook. It turned out the Jill’s snorkel was highly productive. Out of habit when we are done snorkeling we take a look under the boat to see if there is anything untoward. As Jill glanced at the rudder she noticed what looked like plastic line or netting entwined with the part of the rudder that moves. It took a couple of tries because the plastic was really lodged in there but she was eventually able to remove it all. Jill earned her keep for another day!
Though we did not have time to fit in a dive we did take a half day tour of the island. It gave us an opportunity to explore the rugged and dramatic shoreline as we circumnavigated the island by van. (A photo of a grotto we visited on the tour is the feature photo of this blog entry). We were also able to experience the Christmas Island crab trifecta, spotting the blue crab, robber (or coconut) crab and the red crab. The red crabs deserve special mention because their numbers and unique migration is part of what Christmas Island is known for. There are literally millions of these red crabs on the island (~ 120 million) and they only live on Christmas Island and our next destination, Cocos Keeling Islands. Every year these bright red crabs march from the jungle to the sea during the first rains of the wet season (usually between October and December). During this migration, the crabs pour across roads, beaches, and even through towns in their race to breed. Locals have adapted to this annual event by closing roads and building “crab bridges” and underpasses to help them cross safely. Though our visit did not coincide with the migration, it was lovely to observe these bright red gems and heartwarming to see the ways the local community has modified their roadways, becoming stewards of the red crabs’ safe passage.
Act II: The sail to Cocos Keeling Islands and brief visit there.
Sadly, after our short but sweet 2 day stay, it was time to leave. On September 26 at 11:30 AM we set sail for the 525 nautical mile passage west to Cocos Keeling Islands. Like Christmas Island, the Cocos Keeling Islands are an Australian external territory in the Indian Ocean. Christmas Island and Cocos Keeling Islands also share a similar historical past. Specifically, the early resident of the islands were indentured servants brought over from Malaysia and Indonesia only, in the case of Cocos Keeling Islands, they were brought over to work the coconut plantations which produced coconut oil for export, the islands’ main revenue source. (More on the Cocos Keeling Islands below.) The sail took us just slightly over 3 days, arriving early afternoon on September 29. Overall (there should be a gargantuan asterisk here — more on that later), it was a great sail presaged by the pod of small dolphins we spotted on day 1. We only had one day (at the end of day 2) where the winds briefly died down to a level where we needed a motor assist. Other than that we mostly flew at 7+ knots (often even faster), making the most of various sails and sail plans (e.g., flying our gennaker and our main, a wing on wing sail plan employing our gennaker and genoa and wing on wing with our genoa and main). And it was nearly a drama free passage. Up until the last 11 hours the worst thing that happened was that we noticed that the outer edge of our gennaker was starting to fray. The poor sail endured too much snapping as the boat bounced in the waves in light air, spilling the air out of the sail. That necessitated the early retirement of our gennaker (affectionately known as “The Bee” because it proudly displays our stylized Bee logo), slowing us down to more typical speeds in the 6 to 7.5 knot range. But that didn’t happen until late afternoon of our 3rd day and, before then, we had been making great time. On top of all that, Dax was fully recovered from his Bali Belly. He was once again eating more for dinner than both of us combined! 💪 And he showed no signs of sea sickness, despite some lumpy days that tested his constitution. The crew of SV Che Figata was pretty pleased with ourselves — almost celebratory — so when Jill sat down after dinner on night 3 (our last night at sea) to summarize our passage for this blog entry she wrote in exalted prose about the successful Christmas Island to Cocos Keeling transit.
Which was, apparently, absolutely the wrong thing to do. Sounding smug (rather than showing reverence) is a sure way to anger the sailing gods. And that must be what happened because, in the wee hours of the morning, around the time of our 2 AM crew change (!!!) we lost our auto pilot. In this case human error caused the problem. One of us was trying to adjust the settings on our chart plotter display and inadvertently hit the auto pilot reset. This totally shuts down auto pilot and you can’t engage it again until you reinstall it which involves a number of steps, including certain boat maneuvers (like spinning in a circle) that cannot be easily effectuated in the dark of night or in choppy seas. (We had both strikes against us.) We are not going to say who disabled our auto pilot. It could have been Jill with her new found confidence as an expert on all things mechanical and electric due to her pocket advisor, ChatGPT. (Jill combined with ChatGPT is a scary thing.) Or it could have been Zack who is constantly tinkering with our systems to correct even the smallest of perceived anomalies. (Dax knows who the culprit was but he has been sworn to secrecy. As they say, what happens on Che Figata stays on Che Figata.) In the end it could have been either one of us and who did it was irrelevant. What mattered is that we had to sail 50 nautical miles — which took us about 10 hours — hand steering our 25 ton boat. As we have explained before, our auto pilot is one of our most crucial pieces of equipment. It is very difficult to steer a boat in heavy sea manually. Boats get tossed by wind and waves and humans are prone to overcorrection as they contend with the boat’s sluggish response. Staying on course requires intense concentration to make constant rudder adjustments and is exhausting. Our autopilot, on the other hand, uses sensor data to make more precise adjustments. This leads to a much more efficient sail — closer to a straight than the zigzagging that occurs when humans manually steer.
In the end, after the sun rose, the seas got more calm and we got some technical support from the electrician who installed our new autopilot computer in Darwin, we did get it sorted out. Phew! That was not, however, until we reached our destination within the Cocos Keeling Islands, Direction Island. Demonstrating that we still have a sense of humor, we will acknowledge that it is more than a wee bit ironic that we inadvertently disengaged our auto pilot when we were so concerned about having a functional autopilot that we bought both a spare autopilot motor and computer. (We had both new units prophylactically installed, replacing the existing units that still work perfectly and now serve as spares.) One of our worst nightmares came to fruition and it was self-inflected! Still, Jill apologized to the rest of the crew for taunting the sailing gods with her premature optimism about the drama free passage.
Though we arrived under less than ideal circumstances early afternoon on September 29, we felt an instant calm when we spotted the islands. If Christmas Island reminded us of Niue, the Cocos Keeling Islands reminded us of the Tuamatus in French Polynesia with their low profile, surrounding sky blue waters that are crystal clear and beaches covered with fine white sand that subtly extend out into the water in a slow slope creating this beautiful shallow lagoon. Like a Broadway theater venue, there are no bad seats in the house — 360 degrees of pure postcard magic — and we were delighted by the welcoming committee which consisted of 4 small black tip reef sharks that circled our boat.
As always, a little additional back ground on the Cocos Keeling Islands is in order. These islands consists of two atolls: the North Keeling Atoll and the South Keeling Atoll. The North Keeling Atoll is a single, uninhabited island while the South Keeling Atoll is comprised of 26 islands surrounding a central lagoon. Of the 26, only two — West Island and Home Island — are inhabited. The total population of the Cocos (Keeling) Islands is around 600, with West Island having approximately 100-150 residents (mostly government employees and their families) and Home Island (home to the Cocos Malay community) having 450-500 residents. We anchored off uninhabited Direction Island on the eastern side of the South Keeling Atoll.
Cocos Keeling has been called the Australian Galápagos Islands due to its remote location, small human footprint, and pristine habitats with rich biodiversity. It is often described as a living laboratory where coral reefs teem with life, seabirds fill the skies, and rare creatures like the flightless Cocos buff-banded rail thrive in isolation. Like Christmas Island, the waters surrounding the Cocos Keeling Islands are considered a snorkelers and divers paradise. One of the snorkeling highlights is “The Rip,” a natural ocean channel at the edge of Direction Island. Here, the lagoon’s waters rush out to sea, creating a current that carries you along an incredible drift-snorkel, allowing you (at least according to the “brochure,”) to glide effortlessly past coral, reef fish, other marine animals like turtles and rays and the occasional reef shark. We arrived too late on our first day to clear into customs so we were not able to immediately snorkel The Rip but as soon as we had completed immigration and customs formalities on our second day (September 30) we wasted no time to head out there to experience The Rip for ourselves. The Rip lived up to its billing. We were impressed by the schools of reef fish as well as the acres and acres of healthy staghorn coral. It was also exhilarating if not a little wild, feeling (at least to Jill) like being shot out of a cannon rather than a gentle drift, making it difficult to really take in all the splendor. (We would describe it as the difference between a motorcycle ride through the mountains and a hike along an alpine trail.) One thing for sure — we all got a great workout. The current continues to push you far from shore and though the strength of the current dissipates as you swim away from the reef, parallel to the shore, it is still quite strong until you get close to the beach. Definitely some great aerobics were had by all, earning us every bite of our substantial pasta dinner that evening.
But we should back up slightly because before dinner on Che Figata we joined our friends John and Susie of SV Casamara fame for beers on their boat. As our many readers may recall 😀, John and Susie were part of the rally we participated in from St. Lucia to Australia. We reunited with them for our tour of Cambodia and the Southern part of Vietnam, the Mekong Delta. It was wonderful to see them again and we had a lot of laughs as we shared our respective experiences on our shakedown cruises as we sailed to rejoin the rally. By 6:30 PM it was time to go and we hopped in our dinghy for the short ride back to Che Figata. The wind had picked up which created fairly choppy seas in the anchorage but Zack reassuringly said “this is when you are glad you have a functional dinghy motor.” Upon hearing Zack utter those words, recalling what happened the last time we made an anticipatory positive statement about something that hadn’t quite happened yet, Dax immediately said “Why don’t you talk about it more?” Then, as if on cue, our dinghy engine died and, in a matter of seconds, we were being pushed out to sea and away from our boat by the current. In the dark of night it was difficult to see exactly what the problem was but, from the sound of the situation, it seemed like the engine wasn’t getting fuel. As Dax started to feverishly paddle Zack was able to get the engine to work just long enough to get us back to Che Figata. Yet another adrenaline rush. Not being adrenaline junkies, we don’t consider that a good thing.
Given that Zack was able to restart the engine you might think that the problem was some transient, self-correcting, issue like one of us inadvertently stepping on the fuel line as we crowded toward the back of the dinghy the night before to avoid getting wet in the choppy waves. And we wouldn’t fault you for thinking that because we had similar thoughts and tried to take the dinghy on a long trip to Home Island the following morning (October 1). The idea was to take the dingly there, check out the island briefly and then catch the 10:30 AM ferry from Home Island to West Island. So we hopped in the dinghy at around 9 AM the next day and just as we got outside easy paddle range to Che Figata our engine died and, this time, Zack could not re-start it. Once, again, Dax grabbed the paddle and, bringing to bear the full strength of those 19 year old muscles on his 6’2” frame, delivered us back to Che Figata. As soon as we got to her bow, Jill grabbed on and we all walked the dinghy back to the stern of the boat. There was no time to do any trouble shooting on the dinghy motor because we still wanted to catch that 10:30 AM ferry from Home Island to West Island. The immediate challenge was figuring out how to get to Home Island without a dinghy. That challenge was easily — though somewhat painfully — overcome. For $100 AUD per person we could take a water taxi from Direction Island to Home Island. Round trip would cost us $600 AUD or approx. $400 USD. Beyond predatory surge pricing for a 15 minute dinghy ride (which translated to a 10 minute speed boat ride) but we had no choice. So we bit the bullet and hailed the water taxi on VHF. The good news is that we made it to Home island in time to catch the West Island ferry. The bad news is that the day was a bit of a bust. We did score some good provisions for our boat at the local supermarket — this included frozen mango for morning smoothies and fresh basil and mushrooms that Jill planned to transform into a vegan pesto pasta — but there’s not much happening on West Island. (Not surprising with a population of ~150). So we spent most of our time there at a local restaurant where Zack and Dax enjoyed burgers and chips and Jill ate a vegan toastie she acquired at another local establishment, Salty’s. Not much else to say about the day on West Island which we have dubbed the day of the $145 USD burger because, with transportation, that is what those burgers cost us per person!
The first thing on our agenda after returning to Che Figata from West Island was troubleshooting the dinghy engine. Of course, as always, it turned out to be something very simple. The connection between the fuel tank hose and engine had gotten loose, limiting the amount of fuel getting through. Once Zack tightened it up, the problem was resolved. That was a good thing because we really needed to do laundry and, being uninhabited, there are no facilities on Direction Island. We had to get back to Home Island to use the laundromat there and were not anxious to now have a $400 USD laundry day! Our trusty dinghy successfully got us to Home Island and back the next day (October 2). It was a highly productive day. Besides doing laundry, we ate an early lunch at a local cafe and checked out the community museum that chronicled the island’s history. As you might expect for a small island, the museum was an informative, albeit highly condensed and very casual affair. It was perpetually locked — to visit you went to the shire office, paid a fee of $5 AUD per person and got handed a key that allowed you to gain access. Just turn out the lights and return the key when you complete your self-guided tour. The museum covered the history of the island and early settlers (some of that is summarized above) as well as the transition from British to Australian control. With only ~ 400 residents, predominantly Malayan Muslims, there was also some mention about the island’s current culture and tight knit community. As an example, one placard explained that when there is a wedding among island residents the entire community is invited and the islands shuts down. Everyone is preparing for the celebration. We got to experience this directly as there was a wedding on the island on October 4 and, as advertised, things did, indeed, shut down. This included the small supermarket, both cafes and the coffee shop. Not that there were many options for eating out before the wedding but there were none as the days’ long festivities got underway. That, combined with the fact that Home Island was a looong dinghy ride from our anchorage off Direction island, and (as noted above) there is no development on Direction Island, meant that Jill’s kitchen had to remain open for our entire Cocos Keeling stay. (We will delight you with a sampling of what she prepared for the crew during our passages and while anchored at our destinations before we close this entry.)
We got back to Che Figata from our excursion to Home Island just after noon — plenty of time for a long (and amazing snorkel), shower and an on board dinner. Though the trip to Home Island was a huge success, the snorkel after our return was definitely the highlight of the day though it had an inauspicious start. Jill was determined to get in another snorkel before we left Cocos Keeling Islands but when she jumped in the water she quickly came almost face-to-face with a large grey reef shark which was soon joined by 3 of its friends. Though reef sharks are not aggressive, she found getting in the water with these guys — who were a bit bigger than her — somewhat unsettling so she recruited Dax to join her. Safety in numbers! In the end, Dax and Jill had a great snorkel, exploring the reefs not far from where Che Figata was anchored. They saw all the usual reef fish plus more sharks, a grouper and some colorful giant clams with their bright neon “lips.” Jill and Dax enjoyed the snorkeling so much that they repeated it once more before we needed to pack away the snorkeling gear as we prepared for our next passage.
A few other Cocos Keeling highlights worth mentioning. The first was a snorkel tour we took with a local guide. He took us to some places not easily accessible by dinghy. This included a snorkel spot where the remains of the Phaeton sit in shallow waters. The Phaeton was a wooden cargo ship that transported copra produced on Cocos Keeling Islands to Europe. As we mentioned above, the byproducts of coconut plantations was the main source of revenue on the islands. Copra is the dried, white, edible meat of the coconut from which coconut oil is extracted. At any rate, as the ship was departing in the Islands in September 1889 a fire broke out in its hold. Unable to contain it and with sinking a certainty, the captain ordered the ship to be run aground on a safe and shallow stretch of sand behind the local reefs in order to avoid blocking the entrance to the local harbor. As always happens, the sea has reclaimed the ocean bottom where to ship settled and the Phaeton has become an underwater reef system, hosting diverse and vibrant species of coral as well as a kaleidoscope of local reef fish. What made this snorkel particularly special is that we felt like we were snorkeling in a fish tank. With the hull of the ship canted and half buried in the sea floor and the ribs of the ship reaching out above in crystal clear water it looked just like one of those mini shipwrecks you place in a home aquarium. Most of the wrecks we have explored are old metal ships and while the reef systems that grow on and around them are still magnificent, there was something very romantic about the Phaelin. Our captain also took us to a spot where we could observe a 75 year old giant clam. Apparently, there are few left in the surrounding waters because the Malayan community likes to eat them. This clam was huge — about 3 feet long. We loved snorkeling down to see the iridescent “lips” that follow the wavy contour of the clam’s shell. In this case, the lips were a vibrant violet color and, given the size of the clam, were the thickest we have ever seen. (For those curious, these “lips” — called the mantle — are actually tissue from the clam which is the color of the symbiotic microscopic algae that produce the clam’s nutrients.)
The second was a beach pizza party organized by a local business owner, Tony of Salty’s Cafe, for our fleet on October 4. His cafe business operates out of West Island (where he lives and also operates a coconut farm). He took pizza orders based on his cafe’s menu (unbelievably, he even has vegan cheese!), partially precooked the pizzas in his wood fired oven on West Island and then transported ~84 pizzas to Direction Island via ferry where he and his staff, Anna and Matt, reheated them on the local grill. They even set up an honor system bar next to the picnic tables so we could enjoy beer and cocktails while waiting for our pizza and listening to the sounds of the impromptu jazz band comprised of various World ARC crew members. And, in part because it was cook’s night off, the pizza tasted particularly good! It was a great night all around. The evening ended with Che Figata receiving special guests. Anna, Matt and Tony had no way to get back to West Island following the Pizza party so Tony asked if anyone was willing to house them on their boats. The alternative for them was camping on the beach. We quickly raised our hands and Anna and Matt stayed on our boat with us for the night. Anna and Matt are a lovely young French couple living in Australia on a one year work visa. They started in Perth but wanted to spend time in the islands so they applied to work with Tony on his coconut farm and in support of his various enterprises. It was fun having them aboard and by the time they left we felt like friends. It was only natural that they departed with Che Figata baseball caps as honorary crew members.
Food!!!! For some reason, many of you love to hear what’s cooking on Che Figata. There was a lot of that on this trip with 7 nights at sea and few places to dine when off the boat on Christmas Islands and Cocos Keeling Islands. So here’s a run down of our menu highlights which includes many of the crew favorites that are part of our standard rotation and two new dishes courtesy of the NYT. Jill kept breakfast fairly simple with chia seed fruit and granola parfait, fruit smoothies and her famous “ever so creamy” oatmeal. For dinner Jill served:
- cauliflower shawarma over pita with cherry tomatoes, cucumbers and spicy tahini dressing,
- roasted tomato and white bean stew,
- pasta with onions, mushrooms, garlic and diced tomatoes (which was supposed to be pesto pasta or pasta primavera but Jill failed to use google translate while provisioning in Lombok and bought spinach instead of basil and cucumber instead of zucchini! 😀),
- vegan caesar salad with house made croutons and, for the non-vegans, salmon marinated in a soy honey glaze,
- fajita burritos with a generous schmear of a thick, creamy and rich black bean dip made with garlic, red pepper, onion and an assortment of spices (such as cumin, smoked paprika and chili powder), filled with sautéed onions, red peppers and mushrooms and cheddar cheese and topped with salsa and cashew lime crema,
- fettuccine tossed in white miso cashew and garlic cream sauce and topped with caramelized mushrooms,
- a classic pine nut and garlic pesto pasta (substitute vegan cheese) courtesy of the real basil Jill found on West Island — sautéed mushrooms added an extra burst of flavor,
- A wonderful new recipe Jill found while scrolling through the NYTs vegetarian recipes — spiced chickpea stew with coconut and turmeric. Jill followed the recipe as is but couldn’t resist the temptation to lend her own interpretation by adding a teaspoon of white miso paste and a tablespoon of soy sauce. (Extra garlic is always a given). After having a small bowl of this latest taste sensation Dax proclaimed that Aunt Jill needed to add that dish “to the rotation.” It warmed her heart! And . . .
- Last but not least, another new NYT recipe: “I Can’t Believe it’s Not chicken (Super-Savory Grated Tofu).” Jill was a little skeptical but it came out amazing. It was so rich and flavorful and had this wonderful velvety feeling on your tongue. The recipe recommended that it be served over rice but Jill used the tofu as a burrito filling and added grated cheese. Another definite hit to be repeated!
As we put the final touches on this blog entry we are still sitting at anchor off Direction Island. We are supposed to set sail today for Mauritius, which will be a ~2,350 nautical mile journey taking approximately 2 weeks. Our departure remains somewhat tentative. The winds have kicked up and squalls are passing through the area. We’ve heard from others who have departed early that the sea state is quite rough right now with big waves. So we are doing a final weather forecast check to decide whether we depart today as planned or we delay our departure a few days to give these squalls time to pass and the seas a chance to calm. It is unlikely to be great even in a few days but it should be measurably better than it is now. But weather and conditions can change quickly so we will base our decision on the most current forecast we receive today. We will fill you in our decision and how we managed during our passage to Mauritius in our next blog entry which we will publish in about 3 weeks following our stay there.
But, before we close, an update about and from Dax! So many of you have been asking how he is doing so we thought we’d give a brief intro and allow him to give a direct report. All we can say is that everyone should have a Dax. (That is our new refrain!) Having a tall and strong 19 year old on board has come in handy in so many situations, whether its helping to fix a long and unwieldy whisker pole, getting a dinghy up on shore or paddling against heavy current on the numerous occasions that our dinghy engine died. He is getting the full bluewater cruising experience: facing an, at times, cranky captain due to “yet another” mechanical failure, travelers sickness (which is why we sail with Z-Paks on board!), getting woken up in the middle of the night to help with sail changes and a full bilge, and some really, really wet, bouncy and somewhat treacherous dinghy rides when you have to get from point A to point B and the wind and the wave splash up into the tender covering every inch of your body with salt water. But he has also experienced pristine, uninhabited, islands few others have the opportunity to visit, snorkeled in crystal clear warm waters with healthy reefs teeming with marine life, seen dolphins, turtles and sharks from his “front porch,” and observed the traditions of different cultures. But now, without further ado, here is Dax to provide his own synopsis of the journey so far as well as a direct account of a dinghy rescue he executed yesterday morning:
Hello everyone! Writing from a very windy Cocos Keeling this today. Our stay here has been filled with excitement, for better or worse. The passage from Christmas Island had its fair share of turmoil, but I am learning that is part of life when you live on a boat. Overall, I’ve settled in well and am excited for the rest of my stay. The snorkeling here is phenomenal, and the overall look and feel of the islands is nothing short of spectacular. I am very happy to report I am back to 100% thanks to the Z-Pak (and Aunt Jill’s reminders to help me remember to take it.) It was very awful and strange to not be hungry, as that is a complete 180 from how I usually feel.
There seems to be a strange phenomenon occurring here, with dinghies escaping their boats and floating off. Maybe they are homesick and miss their home port, or it may be dinghy migration season. Regardless, many of the World Arc sailors have had to help each other with dinghy trouble. Me and Uncle Zack unintentionally found ourselves in one of these situations. The chop was decent and so were the winds at around 8:20~ yesterday morning. We were running back some guests that were working the bar and oven for the pizza night we had on Direction Island. We were about 2/3 of the way there when we heard someone trying to get our attention behind us. We thought we had lost something in the water, but quickly realized that a dinghy was floating away from its boat. We turned around and went to help. We pulled alongside the runaway tender and I hopped on. Initially the plan was to start the outboard and take it back. Simple, right? Well, I go to pull start the engine and it runs for a grand total of about five seconds, before sputtering and dying out. Another pull, same story. I check what I can see, but right now is not the time to troubleshoot engine issues. And due to there being no bow line on this dinghy (point of failure) I have to use the stern line and hold it where the bow line would usually connect. After a slow tow back to their boat, I hop back in our dinghy and resume our ride to Direction. Now is a great time to refresh everyone on the fact that our dinghy has also been having a mystery fueling issue, resulting in uneven idle and often leaving Uncle Zack and Aunt Jill at the mercy of my paddling skills. Well what better of a time than right then for our outboard to sputter and die. Great, just great. Fortunately we started back up, dropped our guests off, and the rest of the trip was relatively uneventful. Nothing like a saltwater shower to start your morning off well, right? Anyway, that is the end of my installment today. I am hoping that we wont have too much “excitement” to write about when we get to Mauritius, but as usual, I’m sure there will be.
And, as they say, that’s a wrap! We will be back after we reach Mauritius.
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