I departed Sinabang on September 6, I had been watching the weather forecasts hoping for some wind. It was a long trip - 45 miles using the motor. My ears were ringing from the noise of the engine when I arrived in the sheltered bay of Sibigo, toward the northern end of Simeulue Island. Simeulue island is hard, rocky and anchorages are deep. It did not boast the white sandy beaches and coral of the islands further south. Sibigo was not much to write home about other than the bay being very sheltered. As seems usual, one of the locals paddled out toward me in his dugout outrigger canoe and asked to come aboard. We sat and tried to make a conversation with my very limited Bahasa Indonesian and his non existent English. I had bought a Kamus (Inggeris – Indonesian dictionary) in Sibolga. There seems to be some inherent expectation that I give the locals something. However, I quickly learnt that had I given anything, ie. fish hooks, rope etc., I would have had more locals turn up at all hours of the night with the same expectation. After awhile I asked the gentleman to leave so I could get on with cooking my evening meal. One of the problems with the anchorage being so sheltered was the mosquitoes – squadrons of them.
After not the best nights sleep I departed Sibigo early September 7 for the 130 mile trip to the Sumatra mainland and Pulau Raya. The wind was northerly, where I was headed, at 5 to 7 knots – more motoring. The wind is capricious in the doldrums. By midday the wind had picked up a little so I was able to motor sail. Sadiqi was also pushing against a half knot current – the difference between the speed through the water and GPS speed over the ground. In the evening we managed to get several hours of sailing, 4 knots, when the wind increased and swung to the North West. The night routine is to turn on the navigation lights if motoring or the masthead tricolour if sailing, dim all the instrument lights to help with night vision. I heard the blow and splash of dolphins playing in the bow wave. It was a dark and moonless night so to see the streaks of phosphorescence light up in the path of the dolphins was amazing. This surreal light show went on for half an hour before the dolphins tired and went elsewhere to play.
In the morning we were back to motoring as the sails were slatting in the lumpy conditions. I tried the asymmetrical spinnaker again, all for about 10 minutes, and then the wind dropped. Of the 33 hour trip the motor ran for 32 hours! With relief we arrived at Pulau Raya and dropped anchor near the prowlong fishing platforms. When I sleep while sailing or motoring I use an alarm clock set for half an hour. Initially it takes awhile to get to sleep and I usually wake before the alarm. As the night wears on my intermittent sleep pattern improves and I can get almost a full half hour sleep. My body clock has a definite preference for sleep around 5.00am. I sleep mainly during the day and may get half an hour sleep every two hours if sailing conditions permit. When Sadiqi is securely anchored I sleep very heavily, coma like, but still only for 2 hours at a time. This is usually only for the first night after a trip of 24 hours or more, then I revert to a more normal sleeping pattern.
I departed Pulau Raya at first light, 6.30 with winds 4 – 6 knots ESE. By 8.30 the wind had increased to 10 knots from the east and it was time to raise the asymmetrical spinnaker again. By 9.30 the winds had dropped and so had the asymmetrical. By 13.00 the wind had increased to 10 – 12 knots from the south and with some conviction – at last. We had crossed latitude 5 degrees north. I had a look at my log and noticed that the wind pretty much faded out when I was around latitude 5 degrees south prior to entering Indonesian waters - the Doldrums. This meant a band of 10 degrees at the equator with capricious winds if any. One minute = one nautical mile, sixty minutes to one degree gives a band of six hundred miles of potential doldrums conditions, a lot of potential fuel and motoring.
Sadiqi revelled in the 10 – 12 knot wind from the stern sailing at 4.5 knots with only the main up. The fishing line was out in hopeful expectation that some fish would have the temerity to go for the lure. I tried several different lures, the fish, if there were any, were indifferent through lack of any activity. With the improved wind conditions and Sadiqi, very happily sailing along at 5 to 5.5 knots with both full main and headsail, we arrived at Aroih Cut too early. The Aroih Cut is narrow gap at the Northern end of Sumatra very prone to tidal currents and big swell. If heading North East, as I was, go on a rising tide. If heading South West go on the falling tide. As the tide was not rising enough, plus we had good winds I chose the wider gap Arioh Raya just north of the narrow cut. The current movement was impressive not being familiar with such events with sailing off Fremantle. I had brief glimpses of the Arioh cut and it was a veritable bubbling cauldron or white water. As it was, Sadiqi was going against a 3 to 4 knot current and it was nearly slack tide. Another learning experience.
I dropped anchor to the west of Banda Aceh and had a great nights rest. I had been keeping a radio sched with “Glayva” on HF radio at 9.00 and 20.00. Mark and Rachel had arrived at Pulau Weh the same day I had arrived at Banda Aceh – a half days sail away.
I departed Banda Aceh at a civilised 8.30, thinking I would get some good sailing in. Oops. I motored toward the Eastern side of Pulau Weh. By Midday the wind had increased from the south and the asymmetrical spinnaker was up and Sadiqi was sailing along very nicely, well for an hour anyway. The wind dropped and swung to the west. I had started the motor and was setting the jib and main, Sadiqi started to heel, when the motor stopped. Hmm, out of diesel! This was no great surprise as I had not put any fuel in since Labuanbujau on Simeulue some 46 engine hours before. Fortunately the wind had settled and Sadiqi was sailing along very nicely with the reliable Smithy, the Windpilot, at the helm.
I emptied a 20 litre jerry can into the tank, replaced the fuel filter and bled the fuel system before starting the engine again. This was a good exercise in good conditions. I’d hate to think of the consequences of running out of fuel in a situation like going through a narrow channel or crossing busy shipping lanes, something I was going to have to do to get to Thailand.
