great phosphate rock rising 300 metres out of the sea. It's
not a
rock at all it's a huge uplifted coral reef. Riddled with caves,
some are stalagmity/tity and very big, some can only be
entered by
diving, and some are blowholes
roaring like dragons when the
great
through. The sides of the island are terraced, from successive
periods of uplift from the sea, and the top is flat. It is
covered
in a unique jungle evolved in isolation from the rest of the
world.
A jungle where the leaf litter is eaten by millions of hand
sized
red land crabs. They are spooky. They behave like
cattle. If you
sit quietly,you'll notice that they are looking at you, all
of
them, out of several corners of their multifaceted eyes. But
they'll browse unafraid around you and even crawl over you.
They
determine the composition of the forest by eating seedlings
and
have even prevented the encroachment of cats, rats (they eat
the
young), and the giant African land snail. They don't taste
good,
so nobody eats them. There are not quite so many robber
crabs (they
are good to eat) which are just as bovine as the red crabs
but they
are impressive in their strength and size, and they drag
away any
articles you may leave on the ground for a few minutes.
(Illustrated by the apocryphal story of the lovers who lost
knickers and things to the crabs while otherwise engaged).
Now that the phosphate has been mined out, most of the island is going
Now that the phosphate has been mined out, most of the island is going
to be national park and hopes to derive its income from an
Indonesian owned casino that is under construction. (In Indonesia ,
gambling is illegal and their offshore gambling cruise liner
is
getting old). Our friend Carden is a coral expert specialising in the genus Acropora and she asked us to collect specimens from out of the way places that she couldn't afford to visit. She gave us a letter of authorisation. "Just show that to the relevant authorities and you should have no trouble." She said. The parks ranger took his job super seriously and rang Canberra for instructions. They referred him to their leading authority who was of course, Carden. "Oh, he said. Don't you collect any specimens, I'll do it and give them to you before you leave." Well on the last day he hadn't, so I snorkelled under Hagar and found several species of Acropora which Jan installed in a bucket on the foredeck to rot the flesh out of the skeleton. The wind was behind us so the smell was blown to leeward.
The harbour is an open roadstead to the Northeast with a
relatively narrow shelf of coral to anchor on before it plunges to
several thousand fathoms straight down. Good shelter from the
boisterous S.E. trades,but at times very rolly. We could tell how
easygoing the people were when the Police turned up on our first day
(they act for customs) in a runabout driven by one of their prisoners! There was only one yacht there before us but we
were the vanguard of a fleet of six that came in the next three days.
Enough to keep us partying on, this was the first time we'd relaxed
and actually felt that we were cruising. Upyurs arrived next, motoring close to us John called out "have you got a cigarette?""Use your exhaust! Plenty of smoke there."
The boys have teamed up with Simon (13) and Richard (10)
Walker
off "Metani" who had also watched "Robin Hood
Prince of Thieves" in Darwin .
Life on Xmas Island for them has been a non stop re-enactment.
They took ropes from the boat, made bows and arrows and
Life on Xmas Island for them has been a non stop re-enactment.
They took ropes from the boat, made bows and arrows and
disappeared to their coral cave hideout in the cliff near
the WW2
gun emplacment. They
slept there on the blockhouse roof one night
vowing to keep a good lookout against robber crabs and
assorted
night monsters. Their watches were divided into senior
watches who
kept "awake with their eyes open" and junior
watches who "stayed
awake but were allowed to close their eyes". (har har! Interrogation revealed that all slept soundly.)
The kids also discovered some tiny firecrackers that could
be
easily used for practical jokes (going bang when yanked).
They
parted with some of their pocket money, bought a supply and
successfully frightened Jan (with the kitchen drawer) Me (with
the toilet lid), and Paul off Upyurs (with his outboard starter)
The phosphate mining infrastucture (hospital,roads,shops
etc) is
intact because the B grade phosphate stockpiles are being
worked
and are expected to keep the Euro/Chinese/Malay communities
going
for another ten years.
A good job too because I broke my false
A good job too because I broke my false
tooth yet again and there was someone here who could fix it!
Having
been snaggle toothed for a week I was getting used to having
a
"mouth with character" (remember Shirley
Valentine's kissable
stretch marks? Those scars of life that gave her belly
character?)
and swore I would only use it for interviews and the work
place but
vanity won. For several restaurant meals I took it out to
relieve
it from the stresses of chewing, till I was told the story
of the
fellow whose false teeth were thrown out with the fish and
chip
paper....
The population decamps to the airport once a week (at which
time
it doubles up as a pub) and eyes up the new arrivals. The
other
major entertainment seems to be us yachties. Most of us
acquired
a guardian angel who gave us the run of their house, and
especially
their washing machine, and took us round the island
sightseeing.
With them we had many happy evenings bullshitting on the
boat club
verandah, throwing the empty cans into the holes in the
middle of
the low round tables. (Their aim got progressively worse
throughout
the evenings).
Many of them are batchelors, lonely with such a
Many of them are batchelors, lonely with such a
shortage of girls. As the yachts represented a potential
supply it
was not surprising to find that our guardian angel had
fallen in
love and was planning to fly to Reunion
for a reunion with a girl
on a hot tin catamaran.
We intended to stay only a few days but who could resist the
allure
of the impending Territory day celebrations?
Whacky school sports
Whacky school sports
(the egg throwing was typical), Chinese lion dance,iron
person competition,crazy raft race, a Hash House Harriers Run in
the jungle etc. It was a lot of fun.
 |
| Christmas Island Gregorian Chanters |
At the yacht club an impromptu choir came and sang the Christmas Island telephone book as a Gregorian Chant. It didn't take long.
We had seen and fed many types of seabirds on Christmas (at
the
park ranger's office),
so it was particularly sad when a large
 |
| Rene with the Golden Tropic Bird |
so it was particularly sad when a large
booby took our lure as we departed from Christmas. By the time we
drew it in, it had drowned. We didn't feel like catching
fish after
that. The trip to Cocos Keeling was really fast. 535 miles in 3
that. The trip to Cocos Keeling was really fast. 535 miles in 3
days 2 hours. Strong trades on the quarter and an
uncomfortable
SW cross swell. Wet. Two days out, "Kylie" 100
miles ahead of us passed 50 feet off a vertical steel pipe atop a massive
submerged object. The news was spread on the ham radio and we made a
wide detour.
We arrived at Cocos lagoon just before dark racing
neck and
 |
| Hagar entering Cocos-Keeling Lagoon |
neck with "Kyeema" who'd set off six hours before
us from Xmas Island and they took a picture coming in to the lagoon entrance.
COCOS(KEELING)
Cocos was idyllic. All the yachts were anchored in the lee
of
weekends,by the school for swimming classes and by the odd
affluent
tourist.
On the beach we had sheltered tables, a BBQ, water tanks (empty from the
On the beach we had sheltered tables, a BBQ, water tanks (empty from the
drought) and solar powered lights and VHF radio in the
shelter.
Free ferries ran twice a week from Direction Island
(Airport,admin,supermarket,restaurant,quarantine
station,vegie farm
and free buses) and also ran eight times daily between West
Is and
 |
| Home Island. These distinctive Malay sailing boats were raced |
breadfruit trees we were allowed to raid.)
The dinghy run to
Home island finally defeated our untrusty outboard motor. After towing David's dinghy so full of water bottles that he couldn't row, the motor turned on us - twice forcing us into a long row home by seizing up temporarily. The third
 |
| Roger Towing David on the water run |
time it fixed us good by melting the petrol tank which
popped,spraying boiling petrol everywhere. It didn't catch fire and it was my turn to be towed home. I blocked up the hole in the petrol tank later with molten polypropylene rope.
David had a beautiful dinghy that he had made for rowing fast. One afternoon we were in the cockpit of Romul's boat Kyeema when David rowed past. Romul, in the middle of telling us how he had been on the University Sculling team in Romania broke off to watch David. Then he called out instructions to David designed to improve his style. David looked at us, grinned and kept on rowing. We didn't have the heart to tell Romul that David had represented Australia in the Double Sculls in the Tokyo Olympics.
 |
| Anneliese off Setna towing Roger with his defunct motor |
Mornings were taken up with schoolwork on "Hagar",
"Metani" and
"Setna", afternoons volley ball, and evenings with
BBQs on the beach. The kids
often slept ashore under the shelter with the shy coconut
rats and
crabs for company.
For Halloween the kids dressed up as
pirates,
 |
| Pirates trick-a-treating Setna |
piled into a dinghy and went tricka treating. They got
plenty of
treats, but not without a drenching from the water fights
that
erupted.
Previously, the full moon party had us howling on
the hour
 |
| Full moon party. Table legs embedded in the beach. |
at the clear white circle in the sky. We played silly games,
sang
songs and felt what dingoes must feel - mad elation!
We did some jobs! Cupboards were cleaned and one day Roger
drilled
a hole in the swing keel to attach a small anode to it. (We
were having trouble with rust on the edge that contacts with the
sea
bottom every now and again.) This sounds simple , but the
boat was
at anchor and moving around to the wind. Roger was using a
hand
drill and had a long diving hose that connected his
mouthpiece to
the tanks that remained housed beneath a dining seat in the
galley.
So I could hear Roger's breathing as I was making bread and
knew
he was OK. It took
three hours and b;y the end, Roger was
exhausted, and had to be revived with hot tea and TLC.
The fish in the lagoon are medium gun-shy and we got plenty
to eat,
but the reef sharks were a real nuisance. The Grey Reef Shark is territorial. I was spearfishing with Ben when a six foot shark started circling him. He kept his spear between him and the shark, and when it charged him he gave a loud shout which made it veer off. He hopped quickly into the dinghy and the shark started circling me with a flicky aggressive way of swimming. I fired my speargun at extreme range (not wanting to penetrate its hide and become attached to it) and bounced the spear off its flank. It disappeared.
Oddly, when Jan and Donna started cleaning the fish on
Oddly, when Jan and Donna started cleaning the fish on
Hagar the other kinds of sharks left us alone to spearfish in peace - they
were
of course over at Hagar having a good feed. We were having such a good time that nobody wanted to leave. Two weeks into the cyclone season the weather started looking ominous and it was lucky that we took notice of the signs because only a week after we left Cocos-Keeling their first cyclone struck.
The trip to Srilanka had it all. 1700 miles in a dog leg
designed
to use the SE trades to gain westing they died
progressively to
a whisper that just kept the spinnaker trickling us along at twoknots. Ben finished his schoolwork for the year then embarked on
writing a fighting fantasy book. We all read a lot, despite
the
double vision that the SCOP patches (for anti-nausea) gave
us.
Roger's reading glasses worked wonders when this occurred.
Rene
finished "Huckleberry Finn", Roger and I, the Raj
Quartet by Paul
Scott, who was a master at interweaving ficticious lives
into a
realistic and rich tapestry illustrating the last years of
the Raj
in India .
Also recommended is Robyn Davidson's "Ancestors". and Ben
finished "Lord of the Rings" in Sri Lanka ). I
was able to further
my knitting projects. So far I have almost completed Bon Voyage
(textured knitting), Nautilus (collage) and Crocodile
(Multicoloured plain knitting).
At lunchtimes we would all gather for the edible treats that Jan came up with, including the two cans of soft drink a day that the tiny fridge allowed. These were measured carefully into four glasses. Then came the story. Jan would lie down on our double bunk by the companionway hatch and we would take it in turns to read until she slept. (Her off watch was from midday to 6pm.) The book on the way to the equator was 'Over The Top With Jim'. We averaged about two chapters a day. It was an enthralling account of growing up in Brisbane in the 1950's. At the end, there was a long silence - each of us with their own thoughts. I was thinking "Golly these two boys could write a book like this with their experiences." Rene broke the silence "Gee dad, I wish we could have an interesting childhood like Hugh Lunn."
At lunchtimes we would all gather for the edible treats that Jan came up with, including the two cans of soft drink a day that the tiny fridge allowed. These were measured carefully into four glasses. Then came the story. Jan would lie down on our double bunk by the companionway hatch and we would take it in turns to read until she slept. (Her off watch was from midday to 6pm.) The book on the way to the equator was 'Over The Top With Jim'. We averaged about two chapters a day. It was an enthralling account of growing up in Brisbane in the 1950's. At the end, there was a long silence - each of us with their own thoughts. I was thinking "Golly these two boys could write a book like this with their experiences." Rene broke the silence "Gee dad, I wish we could have an interesting childhood like Hugh Lunn."
Our industriousness was interrupted whenever squalls hit. We
had
to make sure we had taken our sea sick tablets or else we
suffered.
The night we crossed the Equator, was the worst. We had our
double-reefed main and a storm jib up to cope with the strong winds when
they hit. Rain was pelting down continuously. I spent the whole
night 'dozing' under the storm dodger, dodging drips from
the
cockpit canopy which kept me warm and relatively dry. Roger
on the
bunk below didn't get any sleep either. We were heeling
vigorously
at times and his worry about hitting ships had him turning
on the
radar every 30 minutes to check for green dots. It was
really the
blackest night we've had. No moon, total cloud cover. The
only
light came from the feeble masthead light, the red compass
light
and the eerie sheets of phosphorescence our wake created.
The kids
were unsettled that night too. It was too stuffy in their
cabin,
so Ben was on a lounge bunk and Rene lay across the table
seat. In
the early morning a particularly nasty wave propelled itself
along
the deck and under the dinghy and through the middle hatch
right
on top of the table and Rene! It was action stations down
below as
Ben grabbed two towels and soaked up the sea water before it
could
do much damage. Rene groaned and went back to sleep. Luckily
the
next day the weather cleared a little and we were able to
dry
things out. But it meant we had to close the middle hatch
for a day
or so and that made it fairly stuffy down below.
The rain however provided us with freshwater showers, a nice
change
from the seawater slosh we have on deck everyday.
Trolling on this trip, hooked a few fish: tunas and one
bejeweled
dorado. For the first time, the kids were able to see its
spectacular colour changes from peacock blue/greens and gold
to
silvery blue and white. We kept in regular ham radio contact
with
other boats during the crossing, but have definitely lost
contact
with home base, which means we are totally relying on
correspondence for communication now, so please write!
We had two breakdowns. Our log cable broke. No big drama as
the
sat nav kept spitting out positions.
Then one calm night we left the spinnaker up to quell the rolling and perhaps gain a few doldrum miles. My dream was invaded by a speeding sensation which became real. Then a huge bang as the spinnaker split from bottom to top followed by one of Jan's magnificent ear splitting screams. Since I was sleeping with my leg iron on it was just a matter of minutes before we were both out on the foredeck in the driving rain getting the flapping mess under control and stowed.
Old and fragile as it was, it had taken us thousands of miles in sometimes imperceptible winds.
Then one calm night we left the spinnaker up to quell the rolling and perhaps gain a few doldrum miles. My dream was invaded by a speeding sensation which became real. Then a huge bang as the spinnaker split from bottom to top followed by one of Jan's magnificent ear splitting screams. Since I was sleeping with my leg iron on it was just a matter of minutes before we were both out on the foredeck in the driving rain getting the flapping mess under control and stowed.
Old and fragile as it was, it had taken us thousands of miles in sometimes imperceptible winds.
Infinitely preferable to the banging and slatting of the
boom and
mainsail when the wind isn't strong enough to steady it
against
the swell. It was a bizarre experience sewing it back together in Galle Harbour keeping the cows away from the delicate fabric.
Two days motoring took us across the flat calms between
 |
| Doldrums |
Two days motoring took us across the flat calms between
2 and 3 deg N and then it was a hard beat to windward again,
this
time against North Easterlies for two days. 16 days in all from Cocos to SriLanka. A
big
surprise really, since we certainly weren't expecting to
average
100 miles a day.
 |
| Entering Galle, Fishermen returning, the Dang Sara behind. |
Monday and cleared in with no problems (only US$130 the
poorer).
The port captain's representative was the only slimy
character and
although we didn't realise it at the time, it presaged our
whole
SriLankan experience. The paperwork completed, he should
have gone
but didn't. His glassy eyes flickered everywhere - looking,
looking
- fingers drumming on the table. We weren't willing to break
the
uncomfortable silence and he finally came out with it
"Have you got
a souvenir you can give me?" I felt like saying
"I'm sorry, this
is our first experience of bribery and corruption, can you
explain
the ethical basis of it to us?" (wish I had). He did
get the
innocents abroad treatment though, and left with a beer mat
enthusiastically inscribed by Jan with our names.
Our impressions of Sri Lanka are as varied as our
experiences
there, but if we are forced to generalise, then we have to
say
there are more enjoyable places to visit or live in. Let's start
at the beginning.
We stayed inGalle Harbour
 |
| The Dang Sara swinging in Galle Harbour Sri Lanka |
We stayed in
was captured by the Portuguese in the 1500's, fortified and
in turn
taken over by the Dutch and then the British. This ship followed us in and in very gentlemanly fashion waited for us to anchor and warp in to the mooring buoy before swinging his stern round.
Galle contains a small
Galle contains a small
section of Muslims living around the Mosques inside the
Fort. And
a handful of Christians, many of whom are mixed Dutch or
Portuguese
descent. There are a few Tamils working on local lowland tea
estates and in the shops.
The majority are Sinhalese Buddhists, and
 |
| Buddha at the harbour's land entrance. |
The majority are Sinhalese Buddhists, and
proud of their religious and historical heritage which
consisted of well organised large kingdoms.
The Indian Hindu Tamils
were also
well organised and greedy for more territory. So for many
centuries
they have regularly invaded Sri Lanka from the North, and left
survivors who, of course regard Sri Lanka as their home. In recent
years the Tamil Sinhalese trouble even erupted in Galle . But more
of a problem in the South were the leftist terrorists (JVP)
who
assassinated political and government figures. Nothing
obvious is
happening now since the government has probably been using
hit
squads of their own and there are no JVP left.
There are many poor people, a few rich. Labourers get about
40Rp
a day, teachers and office workers, 75 Rp and government
doctors,
150 Rp (30 Rp =
AUS$1)In town few have water or electricity
connected. Daily bathing, water carrying and washing at the
local
tap is a common sight. Cows and goats are free to graze on
grass,
trees or any rubbish they can find. (goats, trotting atop a
concrete fence, stretching for the highest. luscious foliage
they
could find and on one wet day, goats nibbling posters that
were
stuck all over walls where the signs, STICK NO BILLS are
stuck all over walls where the signs, STICK NO BILLS are
stencilled.) They are well fed. The people are too. Rice and
vegetables are cheap, but nothing else is really cheap. Much
processed food is imported. (They have only 15 million
people and
have the same problem in getting enterprise going as Australia .
The Government has just started an intensive campaign to
attract
businesses from overseas - no taxes, etc.)
So, like Australia ,
they have resorted to tourism to bring in extra
dollars. What seems to detract from the attractions here is
the
attitude that many (not all) SriLankans have towards
"foreigners".
In part it is encouraged by the government in its two tier
pricing
policy for museums and ancient ruins sites. (eg.US$7 for
each
foreigner over 6 years and a few cents for the locals) So it
is
culturally acceptable to charge more if it is for a
foreigner. The
result is that many traders overcharge for goods and
services and
because unemployment is high, there are many touts and
"guides" who
are forever trying to tell you where to go and what to buy.
In
addition there is the odd con artist . "I am a teacher
just coming
home from a conference. My wallet has been stolen. I only
need 95
Rupees to get home." The next time our friends saw this
chap, he
had forgotten he had approached them last week, and this
time he
was a pschyiatrist with a similar story! Beggars pretend to be
lame or blind and you see them an hour later walking around
normally. The only English many of the children know is the
"greeting", "Hellobonbon" or if that
fails, "Helloschoolpen" and
the insistent ones follow with "Helloschoolbook".
The list goes on.
The awful thing was that we had to build up a wall of
indifference
and even impoliteness in order to survive on the streets.
Once we
did we didn't have much trouble, but that meant sometimes we
were
a little rude to people who were really trying to help
us! How
embarrassing.
Having said all that we have to say that we met some
delightful
people and had an enjoyable time, once we realised what was
going
on. We're glad we went up country to Kandy , visited a couple of
beaches and the capital, Colombo .
Galle
was probably the worst
place for mosquitoes and 'leeches' (otherwise known as touts)
But we
were so overwhelmed by the problem that we were moved to
write a
Letter to the Editor
and the President, about being treated as
money objects. No reply yet.
Now for the more positive impressions. In Galle ,
we made friends
with a well educated Customs Officer. (SriLanka has one of
the
highest literacy rates in the developing world, 80%. The
only
problem is that most graduates are underused.) Wathsula
and Roger
enjoyed many chess games together. Another friend, the
bakery
owner, Keerthi, was proud that he didn't rely on tourists
for his
turnover. He had been
in New Zealand
for 3 months and seen how
bakeries could be run. He'd saved enough in 3 months to get
a loan
for his bakehouse equipment and his palatial new house. A
positive
spin-off was that he worked in New Zealand for a good boss, and
said it made him become more considerate of his workers once
back
inSri Lanka .
His shop was typical of Sri
Lanka . Dull and dirty
in
inside and out, it thronged with customers all day from
7am(?) to
8pm. There was a grocery/tobacco shop in front. (Smokers
were
provided with a smouldering coir wick attached to the lamp
post
outside. With their 1Rp
cigarette in mouth, they would scoop up
the rope and quickly light their cigarette.) This melded
into the
Breadshop cum cakeshop cum cafe where customers could sit
down to
tea and a selection of his short eats.(Curry filled pastries
and
sweet buns.). We saw a bit of Keerthi and his family as they
visited the boat for dinner and we enjoyed a huge curry at
his
house.
Both of the guest houses we stayed in at Kandy were hosted by
friendly and helpful Sri Lankans. One was a retired judge
who spoke
perfectly articulated English. And the other, a retired tea
plantation manager and his family, who owned a VW beetle, a
rarity
in SL. The few cars on the roads were often old Austins and Oxfords
and Morris'. Highlights of our stay in Kandy , were the well©kept
Botanical Gardens, acres of 100 year old trees of every
family
possible , a Spice Garden , and orchid house etc; the Kandy dancers,
whose varied
repotoire included a hunting dance and fire walking,
and unexpectedly kept the boys enthralled for over an hour;
the
Rene and I (Jan) avoided the evening tourist crush by
turning up
at 6:30am. We were awed by this well©cared©for, spacious
holy
place, nowhere near as garish and claustrophobic as the
other
temple we saw on the coast.
The elephant orphanage was an hour's crush in a local bus
away from
living flesh almost all day. Lolling in the river, their
pinkªtipped proboscis' acted as snorkels. The mahouts lay on top of
their beasts and occasionally herded the baby elephants
ashore for
the tourists to touch and photograph. Their 4" hairs
were amazingly
spiky. Later they were fed 5 litre bottles of powdered milk
each.
(five times a day!)
We didn't visit any of the wildlife parks but Rene got a
gawk at
lots of animals. After the first time he showed attention to
a
street snake "charmer" (cobras and pythons) he was
forbidden to do
so anymore, as they all asked for money! Same with the huge
7'
monitor lizard. But we saw for free the snakes swimming in
the holy
the lawn mower in the Botanical Gardens and a mongoose in Galle .
Our breakfast in Kandy
© take©away egg hoppers (rice flour pancakes
fried in coconut oil)© was often eaten on a park bench,
whilst we
observed the scamperings of the grey squirrels.
We ran out of time and money, and so didn't see any ancient
sites
or tea estates but one day when Roger didn't feel up to
walking,
we took a scenic train to Nuwara Elia, higher than Kandy and quite
wet and cold. We had lunch there and came back the same day
by bus.
So we did get to see the expansive and neatly manicured tea
estates
from a distance, and some great scenery. Despite the
ruggedness ofÔ
Ø' [1] Ô
the terrain, there were always houses and people along the railway
Ø' [1] Ô
the terrain, there were always houses and people along the railway
lines and roads.
Travelling by train and bus instead of tourist minibuses was
not
as convenient but richer in experiences. We soon learnt the
local
prices and avoided touts who would automatically raise the
price
by their presence. We also quickly learnt that if you wanted
a seat
you had to get on the bus at the bus station and wait for it
to
fill up before it left. (The longest we had to wait was 20
minutes). Incredible numbers of buses were successfully
crissªcrossing the country every day despite the ragged condition of the
roads and buses, and the hair©raising techniques of the
drivers.
Probably the best bus service in the world,(with some of the
worst
buses) you could get from anywhere to anywhere almost as
easily as
by taxi. One of the many paradoxes of the country was that
it cost
the same amount to travel
90 km. by bus as it cost to buy a bottle
of imported bacteria free water (70 cents Aus) At least once
on
every journey the driver stopped to make a small donation at
a
roadside shrine "for safe trip".
Trains were more costly and always an adventure. The first
time we
went to Colombo a derailment
10 km from Colombo
centre forced us
into the clutches of a three©wheeler driver in a seller's
market.
He was hell©bent on doing at least two forays into the river
of
frustrated humanity pouring from the railway station. He'd rev and
hoot and miss by millimetres, scaring to death the four of
us
squeezed in the back seat of his flimsy contraption. On
buses and
trains, seats are reserved for clergy, mostly orange©robed
Buddhist
priests, and sometimes pregnant ladies, but mostly, ladies
and old
people standing are ignored. I soon learnt to avoid the
'clergy'
seats, as the priests, who must be very chaste, do not appreciate
sitting next to a woman.
Travelling around, we became connoisseurs of toilets. We
were adept
at using clean hotels' toilets, the most luxurious of which
was the
Oberoi in Colombo .
It sported brass taps, lots of real toilet
paper, and flowers and tissue boxes on the sinks, towels and
electric dryers. Very 5 star. At the other extreme were the
toilets
in the trains © pedestals but the seats sported scabs of
spittle,
red beteljuice and muddy shoe prints. You could smell them
within
3 m. On the other
hand we came across several clean, water©washed
squat toilets (without toilet paper, but plenty of water!)
To obtain our Indian visas, we had to visit their High
Commission
in Colombo
many times. It was characterised by queues. We had been
told to go to the top of the 20 m. pavement queue.
(Foreigners pay
2000 Rp, Sri Lankans 90Rp, so they give us special treatment.
It
cost AUS$252 for the four of us.) The long line of
gun©toting
guards waved us on, officals gave us the forms. We entered
the
narrow dog©leg
entrance which took us through a metal detector.
We had to leave our camera and back pack in their charge.
(One
time, we got the camera back with the UV filter shattered.)
The
next queue at the bottom of the stairs, was short. They took
our
details, asked if the forms were filled. Roger faked a veryÔ
Ø' [1] Ô
positive affirmative. We rushed upstairs to be confronted with a
Ø' [1] Ô
positive affirmative. We rushed upstairs to be confronted with a
choice of two queues: A. Sri Lankan gents and B. Foreigners,
SriLankan ladies and Travel Agents. We latched on to the
tail of
this queue. Judy (from "Metani") and I stood in
that queue for 2
1/2 hours. It hardly moved at first. It soon became a 3©4
abreast
queue and we discovered Sri Lankan ladies were adept queue
jumpers.
They sidled past, gaily talking to the ladies in front of
us. We
had to really persevere in order to maintain our relative
position.
(I think I know why Asians are generally small people. One
is more
likely to be more nimble when jumping on trains to grab a
seat.
It allows one to squeeze through a crack in a crowd that a
beefier
European finds impossible. And one needs less to eat!) We
were
later told by other more
worldly wise travellers that we should
have gone to the top of this queue too, but if we had, we
would
have missed out on a lesson on "how to hold your own in
a queue in
Roger and I spent one night in Colombo at a YWCA and made the most
of our time looking about the streets.(My favourite
occupation, as
any walk was a constant stream of discoveries © tiny dark
eateries,
colourful plasticware sellers, hardware bits and pieces (we
picked
up a coconut shredder), footpath second©hand booksellers,
'odd
shoe' and 'used
bottle' sellers, shoe repairs, fortune©tellers.
You could find anything in Colombo , if you had days to tramp around
looking for it.) But we also looked in at Museums and Craft
Displays and ended up at a picture theatre for English films...
"The Untouchables" ...Kevin Costner as Eliot Ness ..I was the only
woman in the small audience. They sold liquor in the lobby,
and the
barman kissed us goodbye with a snuffling rubbing of his
nose first
on Roger's neck (He just turned his head in time) then on
our
hands. How come the
Bulimba cinema staff never showed such
appreciation?
English is widely spoken but older people are much better
speakers.
Since Sinhala was declared the official language, schools
have been
turning out a
Sinhala©literate population
and the importance of English has declined. This has turned out
a big mistake, as it upset the large Tamil speaking
minority. The
government has backtracked and made all three languages
"official".
But the damage has been done, and everywhere we went,
Sinhala
dominated and (I think) most schools operate in Sinhala,
others,
English, and in the Tamil areas where we didn't go, and if
the
schools are operating, they teach in Tamil. The English
teaching
that does occur, is a little out of date. A gem from a textbook
on spoken English:
"Oh, I haven't seen you for a very long time."
"And your brother, I haven't seen him for five
years."
"It would be wonderful if you could come to tea on
Saturday."
"Well thank you for your kind invitation. We would very
much like
to attend. At what
time should we arrive?"
Another time we stayed with Debbie's friend,Rod Stevens, an
Aussie,Ô
Ø' Ô
working with the Forestry Department inColombo
for a year. He
Ø' Ô
working with the Forestry Department in
showed us bomb sites of the recent past. He told us about
the bus
we drove past that had been burnt at the end of his street
the day
before by university students who took the law into their
own
hands. A student had been killed on a
"Zebra Crossing", they emptied
the bus and destroyed it. He pointed out the police
checkpoints we
had blissfully walked past days before. The government
newspapers
were always emphasising how the Tamil problem was being
overcome.
But with student unrest and reading between the lines of the
newspaper, we all felt, Sri Lanka had a long way to go to
solve the
bitter differences that exist between groups. A headline said it
all. "GIRL RECOVERS FROM SHOOTING." It turns out
that she was a
passenger in a car that wasn't aware it was being flagged
down.
Only in the last sentence is it revealed that it was the
army that
had shot her by mistake. (One can imagine the headlines in
freely admitted to buying 100 votes at the last election.
It's no
wonder the opposition resorts to assassinations to get their
way.
As we became used to the Galle touts, we ventured forth around the
town. It was really quite a culture shock for us all. A
morning
down "town" involved a 2km bus ride (often
crowded), past open
drains, rubbish heaps, dirty old concrete bungalows with
treed
yards, poor fishermen's shacks, tiny shrines where
passer©bys left
their offerings. The roads were extremely bumpy. Even in the
centre
of Galle ,
which boasted one new, clean high rise, the streets were
muddy and pot©holed. The first time we visited the market,
we were
horrified at the
flies and dirt. We soon became habituated to it
all, and actually
enjoyed discovering new veges and fruit. And it
couln't have been as bad as we imagined as none of us has
come down
with any serious gut problem.
We walked around the fort one day. The walls enclose old and
mostly
dilapidated houses packed tightly along narrow cobbled
streets much
as Robin Hood's Nottingham
must have been. The palm trees are a
dead giveaway! The boys spent one morning with their swords
and
other paraphernalia reliving their fantasy fights on the
battlements.
The Visa Card bank was inside the fort, and we sometimes
thought
the service came right out of the last century too.
Jan: "Can I get some money on my Visa Card?
Official: "Sorry, our phones are not working."
"Oh"
"You can use our branch in town." (from where we
had just been told
to go to the fort branch!)
Jan (to the woman in the hall, with phone on her desk):Is
your
phone working?"
"Yes."
"To Colombo "
"Yes"
I explain to her the situation and we back track to the
Official:Ô
Ø'
Ø'
Ô
"Oh, yes, sometimes our phones work."
"Oh, yes, sometimes our phones work."
So I eventually got my money from that overworked bank
official
who had to struggle with recording all his transactions by
hand in
all sorts of huge old ledgers. As I was leaving, it occurred
to me
that the bank, and for that matter, the temples, were much
cleaner
than the filthy decrepit "Private" Hospital we
took Roger to the
day before.
Actually Roger usually got quite fast service at official desks.
His standing for some reason would make them most
uncomfortable.(R.I think they were afraid I would fall
down) They
would rush for a chair and usher him through the maze of red
tape
as painlessly as they could. He got us through the customs
parcel
inspection in Colombo
in record time.
We were stuck on the boat for about five days not able to do
much;
even reading was impossible. The reason? Roger picked up a
terrible case of conjunctivitis. He was unable to do much
more than
produce this lament:
When a lanky legged Sri©lankan fly
gets tangled in your lashes,
beware because a virus could
reduce your sight to ashes.
Sub©conjunctival haemorrhage
which starts just as a spot
delaminates your whites of eyes
and soon takes up the lot.
Then mirror©peeping through the puffy
slits at scarlet orbs from hell
you'll wildly wish up specialists
from home to make you well.
And did that insect lay a larva?
Is it feeding under lid
on nerve and muscle,EYEBALL TISSUES
while it stays so nicely hid?
Well specialists are far away,
the planes for home are far and few
and blind, you'll surely lose your way.
But don't lose heart there's hope for all
a specialist is here in Galle .
He holds a clinic every day
midst dirty walls and flies at play.
Nurse holds torch and doctor looks
"This epidemic's got its hooks
into your eyeballs. Take this stuff,
three days will see you well enough".
And then it's home to rest your eyes
but all they do is conjunctivise
and ooze with pus and hurt and weep
for six more days and rob your sleep
then when you think you've licked it up
you'll find your family's picked it up.Ô
Ø'
Ԍ
Ø'
Ԍ
I came down with it three days after Roger, but nowhere near
as
badly as his. The boys luckily escaped the bug.
In
 |
| Fishermen in Galle harbour in dugout canoe |
Thanksgiving was the highlight, a potluck on shore at Don
Windsor's
house. He is the local compulsory "agent" We found him to be a
shrewd businessman, whom we didn't warm to at all. He offered
some convenient services but at a price. There were other agents
yachts can use, but we think he bribes the harbourmaster to
only
take his sons out to the new arrivals. We didn't discover
other
agents existed until we had paid our fees to Don.
We got some jobs done too.
The spinnaker took quite a bit of
patient sewing. We haven't had a chance to use it yet, so
don't
know if it is a satisfactory job. Roger replaced the log
cable,
and a fellow yachtie picked up another spare for us on his
shopping
spree in Singapore .
(US$50) A local entrepreneur made about 20
cotton courtesy flags for us. (AUS$2 each) Washing clothes
looms
large on our daily chore list, now that we have left
laundromats
behind. We've started using the manual Preshawasher. It
makes
sheets and towels manageable. We're glad we got it before we
left.
The journey to India was a tough sail into
Northerly headwinds for
the first day or two. Once we were across the Gulf of Mannar and
tucked behind the Indian mainland, the wind dropped and at
times
we had to motor.
Roger fixed the overheating problem we were
having en route (replaced impeller © only six months old ©
and
cleaned the pipes) so we could get into Cochin before Christmas
Day. It took about 4 days to
make the 400 miles.
The kids had no schoolwork to do so it was a more than
usually
relaxed trip. We wished it could have gone on.
We are told ,Cochin and its state,
Kerala have the highest
literacy rates and living standards of all India . We know
it isn't
typical of India ,
but we are enjoying it hugely. We haven't been
bothered by touts. (Just the odd black market money changer)
The
traders are honest and helpful. We don't have to bargain
with every
three wheeler driver. We're not doing much sight seeing out of
of money before we are ready to go we won't mind forgoing
the trip
we have planned to Mysore
to see the Mararaja's Palace. It's not
that it is expensive here, it's just that we are going broke
saving
money. On stainless steel fabrication for the stove parts
that have
rusted out, on teak for the cockpit coamings, on fabrics and
clothes (Indian made cottons and silks are often very cheap,
and
sometimes excellent quality.) and on many food items.
But more of India
later!
Love from us all. Take care and do write!
