Here we go on ocean crossings again: Phuket to the Maldives

Did it! Tick: here we are - Male, on North Male atoll of the Maldives, that is; having left Phuket, Thailand exactly two weeks earlier.

Celebrating the two flags

We previously did the Male – Phuket voyage in June 2010: a good but tough-ish trip, with a great additional pair of hands on board in Brian, but with strong SW monsoon weather in a fairly dreadful storm system that threw various challenges at us, like: keeping the boat from slewing sideways down large waves and avoiding the cargo ship that turned into us and, sick of being sodden and harnessed and shackled onto the helm in our foul-weather gear for two days, seeking refuge in Sumatra.

That provided background memories to this journey, which was done in reverse and in a different season, the NE monsoon season.

And what a different trip it was! We have never had such “good” weather over a two week period… meaning: in general, the winds were from the NE or E and gave us fair sailing and the sea state was mostly fairly gentle. But we had a range… there were periods (at the start and again at the end) of almost no wind and for these periods diesel had to be burned, and then there were squalls, gale-force at times, but their effect on the sea was short lived.

Many days created memories of sailing gently and slowly under the flying screecher sail, music sometimes playing, fish (dorado)committing  themselves to the braai, reading, scrabble, sleeping during off-watch periods (and sometimes during ‘on watch’…. No names…).

This was our journey: started on the east, headed west (the cross at the top of Sumatra is where we took refuge last time round) and you can see the boat icon now in the Maldives.

Phase 1 - Phuket to Nicobar Islands: we found most strange expanses of turbulent water that we could not explain and which were unsettling at first (and slowed us down); into phase 2 - west from there we experienced huge current against us and went south to find more favourable… which we did, so stayed on that line towards Sri Lanka enjoying the extra knot plus from the current.

The regular Ketoro crew are kept very busy with sail changes when the wind is not consistent in speed and direction, so the first week was very tiring indeed. One night, not wanting to wake Irene, the skipper (kind but misguided fellow) decided to furl in the screecher on his own as the winds were becoming too strong for that more-fragile sail. It did not work (euphemism for bad wrapping, getting knotted and top areas of sail billowing out). We then had to pull the sail down that night, strap it down to the deck, and deal with it in daylight (plus Sandy would then also be around to help).

Sandy and Rolf discuss strategy

Want great crew? Call Sandy! She now knows (as do we: a first for us too) how to unfurl / untangle a sail measuring more than 16m by 10m along the narrow and heaving deck of a yacht – along the deck and into the cockpit and out onto the deck the other side…. Oh, and then to re-furl the sail by hand (with her two assistants). An exercise not to be repeated…

At that stage, big weather in the southern hemisphere gave us strong swells coming broadside onto us from the south, and that soon gave rise to two mechanical issues… Rolf to the rescue, head down and bum up in the engine room and generator room again! Our new engine exhaust placement (for more quiet in the cockpit) took slamming surges of water and the pressure pushed water up into the system; if not identified soon enough, it would have entered the engine itself and that would have seized… aaargh!! Once identified (this little reference somewhat understates the stress, time and effort the problems caused) we knew in these rougher seas we would have to start each engine every two hours for a few minutes to expel any water that had accumulated in the wet exhaust systems, and it became a routine for the person on watch until the last few days when seas were flat.

Then we had an interesting tension-filled incident: a Sri Lankan fishing boat on the horizon spotted us and approached at speed and then chased us (our throttles full forward too) for miles. Unnerved by this first one, we later realised that they are not necessarily threatening us but seeking hand-outs (cigarettes and alcohol).

 However, whatever our approach to such enriching cultural interchanges, we cannot have them coming close and bumping our boat (fragile plastic fantastic vs massive fishing boat: no prizes for guessing who spends the next year doing expensive repairs) and Rolf worked on his cold and unapproachable side.

 Also finding that the frame of a paintball gun (without the bulbous bits) being allowed to be seen while secreted under a towel immediately cooled the enthusiasm of the pursuers.

Normal life continues: re-fuelling

 Back to the journey and phase 3: it was at this stage that we decided to turn south and limit exposure to Sri Lankan fishermen! Just south of Sri Lanka runs the shipping channel, surprisingly busy with ships thrumming their paths between the Red Sea and Malacca Straits. The crossing was straight-forward, done at approximately 90 degrees to the shipping with full sails and high revs; it took about 5 hours and went with no hitches. Our AIS identifies ships, their course and speed and warns of potential collisions, and calling them up by radio when necessary was always met with friendliness and cooperation. (Our AIS also identifies us to them: wish we had had THAT on our first crossing in 2010!)

Normal life continues: washing day

Continuing south, we only turned west into the last leg to head for the Maldives when we thought we would be sufficiently south of SL and reasonably clear of the fishing boats (which is ridiculous, considering we know that they are chased away from Chagos waters: they travel huge distances). This plan worked fairly well, and the dreaded experience of fishing boats at night proved, mostly, unfounded… boats were far apart and little course change was required. However, on one night we had about 9 boats in a relatively small area in a few hours. Dodgems on the sea with boats that are built in timber (and make poor radar targets) and do not have appropriate navigational lights and in some cases are dragging nets is not fun, and one incident in particular is best forgotten, with him changing course in front of us, his spotlight waving frantically, us trying to avoid him and running along the deck with our spotlight trained on the water to find those offending nets. All ended well.

The last section, closing on our destination in the setting sun initially provided gentle but workable winds until they died in the last two days.

Sandy toasts a good day

There is one good thing about no wind: when engines go off, the boat simply stops. And the sea was so flat that we simply leapt in: the water is an astoundingly beautiful royal blue, and the clarity so fantastic that you feel the ocean bottom, about  4km below you, should be visible! (We confess that we did not completely let go of the boat.) Of course, we also found it fun doing this on other days, when the boat was moving slowly…. Holding tight to the swim-ladder and dragging through the water!

At this time there was no rain, hence no clouds; the moon had waned to a tiny sliver… and the sky was a startling black backdrop to a spectacular star vista, occasionally rewarding us with shooting stars. Simultaneously, there was considerable bio-luminesence and Ketoro seemed to be floating on sparkling white cushions.

The biggest highlights: dolphins – playing at the bows, turning to look at us, leaping out of the water nearby and flinging their bodies around in joyful abandon. They visited us many times.

And of course: spectacular sunrises and sunsets. With no land to distract you, you are very aware of the immensity and beauty of the sky, its clouds, and all its colours and faces. Plus, its colours are repeated in the water below, so there is nothing to beat a sunrise or sunset at sea!

Sandy, great friend, turns out to be great crew too: Rolf says she is a keeper! Oh: also a great photographer… many of these pics are hers. Sharing watches and galley duties and general boat chores with a third person awards many more rest hours to us, and makes a passaging experience so much more pleasant. We came into the Maldives less exhausted than imagined after a two-week ocean crossing… and it helped as we had to wait and drift around aimlessly in anticipation of the officialdom that arrived to make our stay legal.

Here they are, we are now legal, we are ready to cruise the Maldives!