Monday November 10, 2008

(This part of my story will be called the Dili Dally Rally for reasons that should become apparent later on. We left Darwin hoping to go straight to Bali via a quick recoup at Ashmore Reef but prevailing weather meant our only hope of actually getting anywhere was to head much farther north than we anticipated. I don’t want to get ahead of myself so how about we get back to the regular entry? Cool with you all?? Tough luck if it isn’t! hahaha)

What a shit sleep! My bunk in the V-berth is wet with sweat. Eeeeeewwww. It’s uncomfortable enough with the rock hard cushioning and sandpaper like covering. Oh well, they say that nothing worthwhile in life is ever easy. I’m hoping this section of my travels lives up to its worthiness. It’s certainly got the whole not easy thing covered so far. We shared left over tuna on bread for breakfast and Jeff made me a fresh brewed coffee again while we waited on Customs to arrive. Jeff has some patience issues I think. He has spent the whole morning bitching about how we are going to be battling tide by the time they get here and issue us with our clearance.

Eventually at about 8.30am a large white motor launch appeared from behind the wharf and powered up beside our Yacht. There were about eight heavily armed customs officials on board and it was more than a bit intimidating to be honest. They disembarked two blokes onto Invictus and if I was impressed by their display of power, Jeff defiantly wasn’t. No sooner were they on board than he started rattling off at them about how they were late and what they could and could not do on board. I had to giggle when he made them stop and check their boots for any stones that may be caught in the tread. One look around this boat and his sudden concern with the condition of the paintwork seems a bit of a contradiction. The customs boys obliged politely anyway. They where nice blokes who quickly and efficiently processed all the paper work without doing even a cursory search of the yacht. There was one Asian fella who was like Ritchie D’s (from Brisbane’s hip hop scene) clone. He even had the same big smile and half stoned look about him. The other dude must have been new to the game going by his nervousness and he reminded me a lot of my skydiving friend Noel Pewell, in both manner and looks. I didn’t even get a stamp in my passport. Ah well at least we now have clearance from the Australian government for right through to Singapore.

It took both Jeff and myself to break the Danforth free after we reset it in that squall. I don’t know how much effort my captain was putting in but I damn near blew a phoo phoo valve (whatever they are). We then set off out of Darwin harbour, motor sailing with myself at the helm and Jeff navigating and trimming sail. It took several hours to clear the last markers of the harbour but when we did we had enough breeze to kill the motor and get along under sail power alone. It was of course not a perfect wind direction. In fact we spent the better part of the rest of the day tacking back and forth expending a whole lot of energy to in effect get not very far at all. The Navy or Customs boat followed us the whole way for some strange reason and that made Jeff very paranoid. I eventually started to feel the effects of my lack of sleep and got bored with our beating into wind so snuck downstairs for a late arvo kip. When I awoke we had actually lost 4 mile of headway as Jeff had been battling the current the whole time I was below deck. At this rate we could spend a few days to get back to where we started hahaha. Ah well it is the nature of sailing I guess.

I eventually convinced Jeff if we where going to make any headway we needed to motor sail and he reluctantly kicked the old diesel over while I cooked 3 bean pasta for dinner. We ate and washed our delicious meal down with a warm becks or two. I retired to my sweaty V-berth and left Jeff swearing and carrying on at the helm. He’s a bloody 46 year old going onto 13 I swear. Sleep was a welcome reprieve from his whining if not the oppressive heat.

Tuesday November 11, 2008

Today started at around 3am for me when Jeff woke my sorry ass to take over the helm. What a day! One long blur of sailing, then motoring, then fighting squalls, then some more motoring, throw in a little cooking, some getting rained on, a little snoozing and back to motoring again. At times we where running so hard it was intoxicatingly thrilling. At other times we were slowly roasting in the heat of a dead calm, maybe trying to sleep in turns below deck or finding what little shade was on offer up above. We did have one big win today when we outran a massive electrical storm. It was a freaky beast I would not have liked to be in the middle of.

I’m totally shattered and stink to high heaven already but am eating like a champion and the seas have been very calm (so much for the seasick meds). The sunrises and sunsets are truly breathtaking out here in the middle of Van Deimens bay (sorry don’t know how to spell that). Every time I catch one I miss home so bad. I think of those family and friends who so deserve to see this beauty as well. I miss Tezza and Az, Amber and Loz (my mad roomies), I miss Melissa and showers and a BO free environment. I know I carry on a lot about what I miss but I really have left a lot behind. My whole crew back in Brissy are so special to me and I’m one of those extremely lucky people who not only love their family deeply but are great friends with them too. Maybe I’m spoilt but this blog is about my feelings and emotions as much as my experiences so get used to my sooking ok!!

I cooked a mad tater salad for dinner and Jeff slept while I took first watch. Within 3 hours of my watch we where totally becalmed again. We are not going anywhere at this rate and it is extremely frustrating. A crazy current started dragging us toward Melville Island and we had no choice but to anchor for the night in water a minimum of 70 foot deep. At least I got my first decent block of sleep in like 48 hours, though it was a very rollie anchorage and as hot as hell itself below deck. My pillow smells already and I can’t stand to have one part of my skin touch another. You can almost hear it when you have to pry the skin apart again. I have broken out in a mad sweat rash under my arms and other areas we will not mention right now. My underwear has already started to rot! Charming I know, but it will give you some idea of the conditions we are facing out here. We ran out of ice about 12 hours or more ago and I occasionally hug the esky pretending to still be able to feel its coolness. A bloke could easily go mad in this heat. Just take a moment to think of our boys during the last world war and what they had to endure besides getting shot at. I have made a mental promise to myself to never ever take lightly what they did in New Guinea and throughout Asia again. I wonder how the Europeans ever managed to explore the planet with what they where expected to wear in their time. These are the strange thoughts that plague a mans mind when he cannot escape the overbearing nature of the heat.

Wednesday November 12, 2008

I was up around 6am this morning and helped myself to breakfast again. I’m beginning to like breakfast where I never usually bothered back home unless you count a cigarette and coffee as a meal. I am getting used to this no refrigeration thing too. My bowl of wheetbix, sultanas, peanut butter and warm powdered milk actually tasted delicious. We cleaned up and hoisted anchor from what turned out to be 87 foot of water. Damn the depth sounder… I could of gone without that knowledge. Fuck man!! What a workout. For all of Jeff’s talk about how strong he is, he seems content to watch me do most of the labour on my own. I never complain and actually am feeling stronger than I have in many a year. I could really get used to this lifestyle, it’s agreeing with me on a deep level I never expected.

Everything on Invictus is half falling apart. I have spent countless hours repairing sails and splicing ropes. Not that Jeff even notices but it makes my shifts run smoother. Given enough time I could have this little yacht running like a Swiss timepiece. I get the most satisfying sense of pride when I go to use something I have worked on and it does its job without fuss or fanfare. Jeff lives a very subsistence lifestyle that I am half jealous of and half pity him for. He would hate my pity… loath me for feeling it in fact, but I get the feeling he is very alone in this world. No real friendships, despite his years, that have lasted except for Tom (his Californian mate). Jeff is very charismatic but that can only ever go so far to be honest and will never be enough to offset his arrogance and insatiable vanity. He would be a drain on anyone who wants a basic level of comforts in life, because he purports to shun them but is happy enough to have you supply them for him. I believe I have found a veritable human parasite… someone who has gotten by through the goodwill of others and yet has failed to pay that forward in any perceivable way.

Coast watch flew by this morning and contacted us via radio for identification. Good!! Someone has a position on us at least. After the battles we have fought for the last few days against current and wind we have decided to change plans and head for Dili instead of Bali. I’m excited as it’s a much shorter trip and I’m starting to think I will jump ship at first landfall. I love the sailing but despite my impressive skills at getting along with just about anyone I find I am having evil thoughts about dumping Jeff overboard of late. Besides to stop in Dili fits in with my original idea much better than travelling directly through to Singapore. I get to explore both Timor and Indonesia if I get off in Dili and that prospect excites me a lot.

My sunburn has healed quite well and as I write this diary entry I am sheltered in the shade above decks on the lee side of the mainsail. My leg and back muscles ache in that good way you get after exercise and my hands are so sore and chaffed that I find it hard to work my pen but I sit here with the goofiest grin on my face, enjoying nearly every moment (at least the ones I do not have to share with Jeff). I look around now at my surroundings and we are all alone. Not a ship, plane or piece of land in sight. We have been on a beam reach all morning with the drifter, staysail and main fully unfurled doing about 6 knots (top speed) north-north west. I can hear the autopilot working away grrrrrrrr… grrr… gr… grrrrrrr… gr… gr… gr trying to keep us on course to Dili. Other than some squalls and associated 1-2m swells we have had the most glorious weather. Today is hot, clear and with perfect seas. After our first two days fighting fickle, changing winds and monster currents we are finally making some real headway and are able to kick back and enjoy the sailing.

There is a Booby (hahahaha Boobies… snicker) that I have been having a running battle with my entire shift. This large ocean going bird keeps trying to land on board and shit over everything. I never in my life thought I would be unhappy to see a booby, let alone be chasing them away. Though strangely it is not the first time I have gained immense satisfaction from throwing jugs of water over boobies. Ok… ok enough of the booby jokes.

Warning! Warning!! If you are easily offended by the description of normal bodily functions you may want to skip this paragraph. That’s for you Melissa (though I bet I now have Tez’s undivided attention). The whole bucket toilet thing is really just a courtesy for when you are at anchorage. At seas you do not bother, in fact you just whiz and crap directly over the side. As a fella the whizzing thing is not an issue although I have a theory that a blokes balance and bladder muscles are somehow linked. It can be very difficult to get a flow going when you are rolling a lot. Sometimes I even manage to accidently pinch off my flow mid whiz, which normally results in peeing on myself hahaha Eeeeeew! However when it comes to bog time it can be very interesting indeed. Step one: completely remove pants… it’s the only way as they just get in the way and you do not want to be defecating on your clothes or worse still falling over board because you have your ankles trapped in your shorts. Step two: Go to the break in the stanchions and lifelines, turn to face the cockpit and get a bloody good hold of the boat (you should be on the downwind side people). Step three: Don’t fall in (when the other bloke is asleep downstairs you actually tie a lifeline around your waist). Step four: Squat, lean back as far as you can and squeeeeeeeeze lol. Step five: Wipe, wash and get dressed (get dressed bit is dependant on whether you are alone on watch or not but more on that later). Try all that when you are on a downwind tack or heeled right over - it is definitely more exciting than sitting on the dunny reading a paper.

We were becalmed again at around noon and rather than burn more precious diesel we decided to drift a bit. I did sandwiches for lunch with that camp pie stuff that tastes like dog food and we had a very refreshing skinny dip. The swim gave me a chance to clean the hull so to speak. Getting back on board was interesting as there is no ladder on the boat. It definitely wasn’t the most graceful of entrances and I gave my tackle a bit of a working on the sandpaper like deck grip. We continued to suffer through the heat of the calm until Jeff finally got the shits and kicked the motor over. We managed to outrun another crazy arvo storm while motor-sailing at least. Which made for a much happier Jeff than if we just had to motor to gain headway.

I made up a batch of olive and red beans with tomatoes on pasta for dinner. It was complete improvisation but a rather sterling job to be honest. I retired below at around 10pm for a Kip and left Jeff in charge. About time too!! Jeff has been leaving me at the helm a fair bit and catching a whole heap of sleep at my expense. Much more than his fair share. I passed out and dreamt of Melissa in the park back at Brisbane, I’m getting a bit toey me thinks lol!!!

Oh yeah I nearly forgot to mention. We had a pod of dolphin visit today. They are so graceful and fun to watch. I swear they love an audience too because there was this one smaller young fella who came to get me. You see I hadn’t noticed them up front so he dropped back along side the boat where I was sitting, rolled slightly so he could look me directly in the eye and nodded like flipper as if to say “Oi come up front. Your missing out” and then took off back up to the bow wake. I watched them for what felt like hours giggling like a little schoolgirl. It was one of those special moments for sure.

Thursday November 13, 2008

Jeff gruffly woke me at around 2am to take over watch. We were still motor sailing and yet not able to make our preferred heading of 308 degrees. Not long after El Capitan passed out I encountered some decent breeze and put up the Headsail. Along with the staysail and full mainsail we finally started picking up some knots. About 4am I was able to kill the engine and yet still maintain a full 4 knots… not too shabby Monsta. The breeze continued to get stronger and even changed quarter to a more favourable NNE, we were scooting along very nicely. I kept on pinching and we eventually were on course doing top speed by about 6am.

Jeff was still downstairs sleeping and I managed to spill sticky orange juice all over my boardies. He is constantly on about how he gets around naked on his shift so I stripped off and stayed that way while I let my freshly washed shorts dry on deck. It was freaking awesome. The sun was just rising still, the temperature was cool, comfortable, and there I was running about decks as naked as the day I was born, trimming sail and making great progress. Wheeeeeee!!! This shit is fun!!

My morning coffee triggered some movement in the tummy. Since Jeff was still audibly snoring and we had a decent heal going at top speed, I tied myself off to the boat while I attempted to lighten the load on board hahaha (Yes another shit story). At first I was too tense and nervous to get anything started but I soon relaxed enough to allow nature to take its course. Ahhhhhhhhhhh! Just as I was in full effect something broached the water right behind me. I could feel the spray on my tush as it broke the surface! Faaarrk!! It scared the bloody pants off me… well it would have if I were wearing any. It took me at least another ten minutes hanging my butt over the side to complete my task and to stop laughing at the silliness of my situation. Good times!!

I am much improved as a sailor by now. I know Jeff will be well pleased with my course selection/corrections and with the 40 odd nautical miles I managed to tweak out of the conditions. Finally we may have a smiling captain when he wakes up. Since I was going so well I let him snore away and recharge. I didn’t feel like going to bed yet anyway. Instead I stayed in charge, naked at the helm well into the morning. I could get very used to this you know. I can imagine that with the right female companion you could just abandon clothing all together on the open seas, especially while the weather is so glorious. The seas are very calm still and though you can feel the heat of the sun building the cool breeze tempers it. Very nice indeed! Pleasant thoughts of brown eyed blondes, nudity and the necessary application of sunscreen where rudely interrupted by Jeff rousing below decks. Whenever the you are ready to come up on deck after someone has been on solo watch for a while common courtesy requires a loud “ready on deck” to be issued as respect for the guy above and his privacy. It’s a good system unless the guy on watch (me) has forgotten where he laid his shorts to dry. “Gimme a sec bruv” I shouted over my shoulder while scampering around searching out my boardies. Of course that sadistic bastard Murphy decides right at that moment to hook a huge tuna on my new lure I had been trolling all morning. “Wait man. I’ll get it,” I screamed as I made a dash for the hand line with only one leg in my pants hahaha. I encountered my first drawback to this newly embraced ‘clothing optional’ lifestyle as I hauled in hand line with my shorts flapping like a flag around my right knee. The bloody tuna spat out the lure just as I was about to land it anyway. DAMN!!! Guess I’m having weetbix for breakfast after all. I encountered the second drawback to nudity and sailing much later that arvo as the sunburn in areas not accustomed to such exposure set in but lets not go there hey.

Jeff finally made his way upstairs and we shared a good belly laugh at my earlier predicaments along with a pot of fresh coffee and cigarettes. Jeff took over the helm and I made use of the opportunity to move forward into the shade on the bow. I did some writing in my diary and played with photo’s on my laptop. Clothes felt restricting after my recent freedom. Eventually I dozed in the shaded breeze of the foredeck and returned to my fantasies of owning a yacht again, sailing the open ocean without a stitch to bind me, enjoying the simplicity and the company of a certain person. Dreams are so much fun… I hoped that reality might never find me again. Reality however had a much different idea to mine. It was probably only 11am when we where becalmed again, sweating great bullets of perspiration that broke from my body and actually made a sound as they smashed into the deck. We drifted for about an hour without losing any headway and I finally ran out of puff retiring below decks to try and sleep despite the oppressive heat.

Jeff woke me at about 2.30pm. The first thing I noticed was the engine was running and the next thing was Jeff telling me I had a difficult decision to make. As I wiped sweat and sleep from my eyes it became apparent we were fighting another killer current, burning precious diesel without a breeze to help our progress. In other words going nowhere, backwards in fact. We could continue running under engine without making headway but that could mean we end up without fuel when we really need it OR we could down anchor and wait it all out, for breeze and or current to return in our favour. My decision? Could I handle retrieving the anchor from over 120 feet of water by myself? Gulp! Jeff hurt his shoulder at the last anchoring off Melville Island and was unable to assist me should we drop the pick. I mentally weighed up our options-: (1) Risk running out of fuel by Dili and be at the mercy of fate and the weather… not a good option (2) Drift with the current for maybe the next 12 hours at around 3 knots losing approximately 30 plus of our hard won miles… well to be frank, I thought fuck that!! (3) Bite the bullet and agree that the anchor chore is all mine and just get it done somehow… which of course was my decision. We set the anchor and wasted time sleeping, eating, listening to music and other general skiving. Another pod of dolphin visited us again but this time they did not hang around, as we had no bow wake…. Users!!!

I was resting in my perspiration soaked bunk when the current finally died off around 9 hours after we set anchor. It was time to get going and Jeff was trying to fire me up but only succeeded in annoying me. I told him to fuck off and made my way straight up to the bow. I didn’t want to wake up too much so I didn’t even wait for him to fire up the motor; I just started hauling in line. I used my crankiness and took it out on the anchor, dragging up line hand over hand. Swearing like a sailor (I now realise how useful a good string of obscenities can be during physical labour) I passed the 35-foot marker. Jeff is shouting encouragement from the back of the boat… there goes 70 feet… I’m breathing well though very heavy and my muscles are starting to warm to the task. When you set anchor you have to allow enough scope on your line to hold. 5:1 is ideal, which means with 120 feet of water below us we had to lay 600 foot of line. You can see I have a long way to go still. At 200 feet I paused for a breather and then went psycho on that anchors ass. Using my legs and back to good affect I soon had retrieved 480 feet of line. Jeff was making those whistle noises behind me as if to say “I didn’t know the old bugger had it in him”. To be honest I was spent and shaking but I wasn’t going to show it. Now for the hard part… actually breaking the anchor free from the seabed. I reached forward, squatting deep and hauled like there was a busload of naked, nympho, playboy bunnies on the other end calling out my name. I let out a guttural groan as my veins popped and I strained with every fibre of muscle in my body (yes that’s right, all three lol) and… nothing! I couldn’t move it!! FUCK!!! I set off with another long string of foul-mouthed expletives that where met with another whistle from Jeff. “Come on Monsta!!” I screamed at myself as I reset to try again. This time I pretended it was my family at the other end in desperate need of my rescue. I squatted even deeper, giving it everything I had, I strained and strained and promptly fell on my ass when the danforth finally broke free. That last 100 or so feet felt like nothing at all and I grinned at myself feeling very smug indeed when the chain hit the deck. I had done it!! I am Monsta hear me roar!!. Jeff was yelling, “You’re a fucking animal dude!! I still haven’t even started the motor! A fucking god damn animal!!” I took over at the helm while Jeff set sails and stowed anchor line. I don’t know of the last time I felt so proud of and satisfied with myself. It was a beautiful moment for me. I believe I can do anything again now. I AM a god damn animal!!! Hahahaha

Jeff cooked a potato and tomato stew thing for dinner. It was so good I had two huge bowls full. Captain must have been exhausted from watching me haul anchor so he went down below to bunk and I stayed on watch right through to around 3am. The wind was so fickle during my shift I must of changed sail around 8 or more times. Eventually my hands were so raw I dropped the whole lot of canvas to the deck and just motored through the swell. It was hitting us right on the beam so it must have been uncomfortable for Jeff below as we rolled around like a carnival ride but I didn’t care. I stayed naked my whole shift and even stole around 500ml of water to bath my chaffed bits in. After the bathing and a liberal dose of talc I felt much better.

During my solitary nakedness I came up with a new plan.. indeed something I am very excited about. What if when I am finished in the states I buy a boat and sail myself home. Jeff got Invictus complete for around $8000 Australian in Florida. Sure I will come home flat broke but at least I’ll have an asset. I love this sailing caper so much it is an idea I will be looking into for sure. When I eventually ran it past Jeff he said at the right season and with cautious planning I will have no drama doing it. He totally believes I have the skills from what he has seen. Now that would be a MAD ADVENTURE would it not? I just have to find me a suitable hottie to accompany me. Start saving now girls and send all applications along with photo’s to monsta4000@hotmail.com hahahaha!!

Friday November 14, 2008

I slept right through till about 11.30am while Jeff was on watch. We had motored all night but just as I got up a stiff easterly developed. We set the genoa up on a port beam reach sailing along at around 2 knots against the current. Not too shabby. I smoked and cleaned and did other general duties. We still haven’t seen another fish since I lost the last one. Damn it!!

All in all it was a very uneventful day. I kipped later in the arvo again while Jeff finally repaired the wind vein steering. I woke at about 7pm, which is still bright daylight up here. I cooked and took first watch for the night. The wind is pretty much directly on our tail and the swell is quite big which makes for a very difficult time keeping heading and ensuring the sails don’t backwind at all.

Another pod of dolphin visited tonight as we made around 5 knots on our downwind tack. I watched them for what seemed like hours again, clapping and giggling as they played. Eventually they left me at around 1-1.30am and I felt an incredible sadness. I really wish I could be sharing this with the people I care about. This is such a special adventure!

Saturday November 15, 2008

This morning I rose around 8am and took over watch. I did all the domestics while Jeff slept and we continued to sail that beam reach that started yesterday morning. We are grinding through the miles now with only about 140 nautical miles to Timor. Yay!! Eventually I settled down to write and listen to my i-pod on deck. It has been around a week since I have had the chance to chill with my own music and GOD have I missed it. I had the most amazing morning under sail, in a shady spot, remembering pleasant moments and not so sweet memories. I’m relishing my new life, just eating it up in great spoonfuls. How bloody lucky am I? I still need to pinch myself every now and then just to be sure this is all real. I mean… who wouldn’t? I’m so spoiled really and sat pondering just how I had managed to make it to this point in my life. I mean what have I done to deserve such blessings? Oh well Monsta, as Jeff says “it is what it is bud” just enjoy this while it’s still fair weather sailing.

I made savoury eggs for lunch today and we finished the last of our bread. Shipping traffic is really starting to get heavy now, which makes it very critical to keep an eye on the horizon whenever you are on watch. I spotted something amongst the swell up ahead and for a while we got all excited thinking we had found a lost dinghy. I secretly worried we would find a dead body on board but it turned out to be a massive steel propane tank from an oil rig or tanker boat. FAR OUT!! You would never see that at night and it would sink you in a second if you hit it.

I caught a couple of hours sleep again just before sunset and woke to a very uncomfortable ship. The swell is right up now as we sail down wind, it is maybe even 2 metres which leaves us rolling around like a drunkard after a four day binge. It makes everything, even sitting, uncomfortable and apparently I still haven’t completely adapted as I keep falling over and generally beating myself up on the boat.

We had a sunset rum again as has become our tradition and prepared to round the most easterly point of Timor island. It is going to be a long night where we will be pulling shifts of 2 hours on and 2 hours off, as we pass between Timor and another smaller island just some 10 nautical miles from the mainland. What makes it so treacherous is the fact that all the shipping and local fishing fleet also use this relatively narrow passage. Also the moon will be rising a good few hours after the sun sets and since Jeff has an aversion to electricity we will be running through without lights as we do every night. Neither of us wants to get run over in the dark. Actually scratch that, neither of us wants to get run over full stop. I’ve had a funny belly all day today but a large bowl of plain rice for dinner seemed to do the trick.

Tonight was the final straw for me in relation to Jeff. Every time I got up for my shift I would find him below deck asleep. I got up to pee during his second shift and found him asleep again only half an hour after he had taken over. That pissed me off but as I climbed the companionway I was greeted by the sight of a massive tanker only (what seemed to me to be) 100 meters away. I absolutely lost my cool, returning below deck to grab him by the throat, I lifted him up so his head was resting against the roof of the cabin. “You fucking asshole!” I shouted “you wanna put my safety at risk then you better believe I’m going to get unpleasant” “Oh don’t be a girl” he croaked as I threw him toward the stairs and pointed at the huge tanker ship. “Again, let me be clear you dumbass, yank, fuckwit… if you cannot stay awake, then you wake me up so I can hold you precious little hand” I boomed. “Whatever man, I’ve been doing this…” but I refused to let him finish. “You have been fucking lucky mate, that is all! Put half as much effort into sailing as you do bragging about getting your dick wet and you might live to see fifty. Don’t fuck with my life dipshit. If I find you asleep again, so help me god, your going swimming cunt!”

We continued through the night in silence. I made him stay up with me. If I wasn’t able to sleep then neither would he. It was just over five hours that we spent like that, until the sun finally began to rise and I told Jeff I was going to lay down. He said not to worry, that he wouldn’t go to sleep, and even apologised about last night. I told him that I have a lot to live for even if he doesn’t and that I do not intend on having him end everything for me off the Timorese coastline. He apologised again but I just grunted and went to my bunk. I’m not prepared to forgive him just yet.

At least I now know I’m defiantly going to jump ship as soon as we make land fall. This bloke is a 100% wanker and I’m not going to be able to rest with him on board. Even without the shipping traffic to worry about. After how much I belittled him tonight I know he is going to want revenge in some way. He seems the type of egomaniac that would require a ‘save face’ manoeuvre after being grabbed around the throat and lifted off his feet. For the first time ever I slept with sails blocking the entrance to the v-berth that morning. Just in case Jeff decided he wanted to see how far through my throat he could saw with one of the carving knives from the galley.

The biggest problem I now face is how to get Jeff to help me into Timor. I need clearance from customs for the boat so I can get stamped into the country and that requires my Captains’ co-operation. The clearance I currently have is to Singapore. I could probably do it without him, I mean the worst that could happen is they throw me on a plane back to Australia but with his assistance I could get a proper tourist visa and continue on my no fly adventure. I am going to have to make it seem like I have no choice but to leave. That way his ego can pretend my departure is not about Jeff but rather an unforseen set of circumstances. I want to just give him a huge dressing down, to get all of his shortcomings and throw them roughly in his face in an effort to make him see just how he is hampering his own life. I know it would be pointless though and he would deliberately go out of his way to make my departure as difficult as possible if I did, so I keep my mouth shut.

(In my diary I go through the whole thought process I was feeling at this time, a mixture of guilt, remorse, fear and pity. I have cut it all out because it makes me too mad to read now. That Jeff’s actions made me so aggressive scared me a lot. I am not a violent person by nature

Sunrise over Timor

and would never under normal circumstances physically grab someone by the throat and throw them around like that. But now in hindsight I can recognise that this was not a normal circumstance and that I was in reality very restrained. From this point on I was playing a mental game of chess with Jeff I resented very much. I dislike falseness immensely and yet was forced to play out a big lie to get Jeff’s co-operation with the Timorese Immigration. I’m tempted to just cut to arriving in Timor and not confess the rest but that would be cheating.)

Sunday November 16, 2008

We spent the day today running down wind with the spinnaker and the genoa poled out to each side of the boat making about 4 knots on average. It’s no speed record but I will take it. Jeff and I have been avoiding each other as much as possible which is a good thing I think. I keep having these overpowering urges to hold his head in the toilet bucket and dump a big steaming load on his head. It’s not just the whole sleeping through watch that is annoying me when I think about it now. We all make mistakes and you could do what Jeff did 100,000 times and never come so close to another ship as we did. We were just very unlucky… well actually lucky depending on your viewpoint. It’s a whole lot of other differences in our personalities that have just built up and magnified with the proximity you are forced to live in on a boat. I thank my lucky stars, every second minute, that Jeff decided to make a break for Dili and that in the end I will be spending just over a week with him instead of the 3 or so to Bali.

Unbelievably when Jeff finally decides to talk to me it’s to relate the deviant sexual adventures he had with some 15-year-old New Zealand girl when he was 40. I interrupted and started planting the seeds of my escape. I told him how glad I was to be stopping at Timor, as Dad had been very unwell in the months preceding my departure. I expressed my fake relief that I would be able to contact home and see how he is going. I told him a bit about our family business and that I would be needed if Dad fell sick. Jeff was very quick to point out he was unable to wait for me if there was a problem along the way. I told him I understood and that I wouldn’t dream of holding him up. I did an Oscar winning performance as I explained this is all very unlikely to occur but if I needed to I’d just clear at Dili if Jeff was willing to help and then leave him to the rest of his journey. God I hate lying. I was such a storyteller as a kid and it got me into a lot of trouble, I still feel immense guilt and shame from those years even though I would not have been 10 years old at the time. Anyway Jeff agreed how important family is and to help me should I need it before disappearing below decks again to leave me much relieved and in my own company for the afternoon.

I’m really cut that I will have to give up the boat. I’d put a lot of work into things and she was showing a whole heap of improvements. I absolutely love the sailing and have learnt so much from Jeff about techniques and helmsmen ship. I have also managed to pick his brains about what to look for in a boat when you are buying and he made me take notes so I would have a check list if I do go ahead with the idea to buy something in Florida and sail home. I even managed to get a huge list of contact people to help me in my quest from him. But it’s time for this little Monsta to abandon Graveline Cruises before the whole ‘grave’ part becomes prophetic. Ideally I could just get rid of Jeff and continue on through Indo to Singapore myself hahaha But I don’t think captain would be too keen on that idea. I kicked back and enjoyed the rest of the days sailing before night fell and we had to revert to the shorter shifts and dodge the hordes of fishing fleet again.

As I kept watch late that arvo, a small finch like land bird flew up and landed on the brim of my hat. It was a cute little thing so small you would be able to fit 4 or 5 in my hand. I asked him what he was doing out at sea as he didn’t have webbed feet and obviously was a land bird. He didn’t answer though; he just slumped on my hat in exhaustion. Poor little fella! I carefully coaxed him onto my finger so I could move around and work the rigging and that was where he stayed for the next hour or so. I showed him around and told him what sheet worked what sail as he chilled on the pointing finger of my left hand. Every time I spoke to him he would twitch his head around and look at me as if he understood every word I was saying. Jeff would shoo him off if he knew he was onboard so before my shift ended I snuck him down into my V-berth through the forward hatch and set him up on a small perch I rigged in there. My new friend immediately tucked his head under his wing and fell asleep. Awwwwwwwww it was sooooo freaking cute!

Monday November 17, 2008

Sometime during the night my little mate had made his escape while I wasn’t paying attention. I kept looking around the boat for him but he was no-where to be seen. I sent a silent prayer out that he made it back to land safe and sound during the morning when the wind was in his favour.

Dili is in sight now and I completed my ruse with Jeff by pretending to receive an emergency text from Mum about Dads failing health. It was a thinly veiled attempt at subterfuge but Jeff accepted it at face value. I knew he would because his ego would not allow room for the concept that someone could not stand his company. It’s a fair dinkum shame I’m jumping ship. I’m loving the life at sea, it is a very agreeable mode of transport to me and we still have masses of provisions so it would cost me nothing to continue to Singapore except maybe my sanity and dignity. Jeff is still trying to suck up to me but his true colours peak through every now and then like when he realised this morning that without help he was in for a hard time navigating his way through the islands ahead. Fuck you bucko… you get what you deserve bud! If I stayed it would have to be for the whole way to Singapore and there was no way I could commit to that amount of time in his company so I kept to myself and worked my little lie.

We finally made Dili harbour around 12.30pm or so. It’s a tricky little anchorage that Jeff left me to navigate on my own as he sulked downstairs. Somehow I managed to find the harbour markers and avoid running into any of the plentiful reefs, dropping anchor some hundred or so metres off the shore line amongst a mixture of fishing charters, commercial craft and sail boats. We broke out the inflatable that is unfortunately leaking air audibly and paddled into shore to find the harbour master and clear me through customs/immigration. Jeff was such a knob! He ran around the harbour at a million miles an hour poking his head into random doors and booming questions at startled occupants about the location of the masters office. I left him too it, casually walked up to security and rolled him a smoke. Within 10 minutes I had the location of the three offices we needed to get everything done without fuss or fanfare. The security guard looked at Jeff striding through the complex and made that circling ‘crazy’ sign language symbol at his right temple. I laughed and nodded, muttered my apology and dragged dickhead off to get everything done. It was painless and efficient getting processed this way and I was very glad to have worked my bullshit with Jeff to garner his assistance. Without it I would have had to go through the regular immigration office that was hidden somewhere in this chaotic, bustling little seaside town and I was very sure it would not have been so easy. Jeff made me pay his visa fee but I didn’t care. I would have done anything I needed to at this stage to be done with him.

As a last sign of defiance Jeff refused to return me to the yacht for my stuff until he wasted the whole afternoon away. We ate and had a beer (great quality and cheap as chips) in silence and checked out the Internet café so he could view the weather. He couldn’t work their computer system however and even though I could see what he was doing wrong he wouldn’t let me help, preferring instead to loudly complain and sulk at the locals. I left him too it and purchased a local sim card for the bargain rate of $5 US.

Eventually we returned to Invictus in the late arvo and I sweated great pools onto his bed as I packed my things. I packed in record time but made sure I got enough sweat on his pillow to make it damp hahaha. We hauled up the second anchor so Jeff wouldn’t have to do it alone the next morn when he left. I topped up the air in the inflatable, loaded my stuff and told Jeff he could join me or I’m going without him. He agreed to drop me ashore but the whole way in he threw a massive tantrum about my supposed ineptness and how he should never have broken his rule about taking only female, under 30 crew on board. I disembarked and stood on shore with a great big smile on my face, raised my middle finger at him and said in the friendliest voice I could muster “Fuck you too, you giant cockhead. May you never get another women you don’t have to pay for and when you do I hope she has herpes!” He was still yelling abuse at me as I sat on the foreshore with some local kids and watched his deflating inflatable give him all sorts of grief as he tried to row himself back to the boat. I made sure my laughter at his clumsiness was clearly audible and the kids around me joined in as we pointed at him.

I set off to find the backpackers but after a $2 US cab fare couldn’t find it. In the end I thought stuff it all and ended up back near where I started in a proper hotel with air-conditioning, a giant king size bed and a padded faux leather toilet seat. Pimping!! I washed away all the dirt and animosity that had built over the last ten days in the longest cold shower I have ever had. OH HEAVEN!! After cleaning up I made my way downstairs to the restaurant below my hotel called City Café. I contacted home and worked my way through an awesome feed and several ice cold tallies of Bin tang. I felt like I had achieved Nirvana and nothing could wipe the smile from my face. I returned to my fridge of a room and flopped spread eagled onto my cloud like bed and within 30 seconds was deeply and oh so comfortably unconscious.

Tuesday November 18, 2008

I’d slept without rousing once all night and woke to find it was around 11am in the morning. Today the only thing I wanted to get done was to update my blog. I faced the massive task of transferring all of my hand written entries and notes into something at least marginally entertaining for you all and it took me the whole freaking day and into the Wednesday morning. I’m glad it is done now and I have promised myself to try to not let it go so long next time. without typing in at least something. I went through three full cycles on my laptop battery, that’s fifteen hours in five hour stints sitting at a table in City café, hunched over the keyboard, pounding out my entries in that two-finger search and destroy method favoured by those who are too lazy to learn even basic typing skills.

I’m very much looking forward to exploring Dili and I only have 2 weeks on my Visa so I will want to get onto that soon. For the moment though it’s all rest, cold beers, delicious feeds, some text stalking and write my skinny white ass off. POICE!

---

---