The South East Asia Voyage of Babadudu
INTRODUCTION
In June 2009, the 40-foot sailing sloop Babadudu, crewed by Steve Lawrence and Marivic Gonzales, set sail for a six-month voyage through the Andaman and South China Seas.The course took us south from the island of Phuket off western Thailand, through the Malacca Straits to (among others) the islands of Phi Phi, Koh Lanta, Koh Phetra, Koh Tarutao, Langkawi (W. Malaysia), Penang and various harbours and anchorages along the west coast of Peninsula Malaysia.
We arrived in Singapore in early July 2009, following which the cruise continued into the South China Sea, around the southern tip of Peninsula Malaysia, and then north along its eastern coast and through a string of islands, Pulau Tioman being a principal destination. From there we took a course further north from Tioman along the eastern coasts of Malaysia via several stunning islands, and then re-entered Thailand, eventually making a north-east passage across the Gulf of Thailand from Koh Phangan to the Koh Chang and Koh Kut archipelagos on the Thai/Cambodian border.
After again crossing the Gulf of Thailand from north to south (Koh Chang to Pulau Redang in Malaysia), we re-visited Terengganu, Tenggol and Pulau Tioman before returning to Singapore. The final leg of the voyage north up the west coasts of Malaysia and Thailand and back to our Phuket base was completed in the second half of November 2009.
The voyage covered 3173 nautical miles in 172 days. We anchored in 43 different anchorages and landed on 38 different islands – most of the major islands, and many of the little-visited ones, in Thailand and Peninsula Malaysia.
This is an account of the voyage.
Phuket to Langkawi (2 June to 12 June 2009)
Tuesday 2 June 2009
We cast off the mooring lines from berth 41B at Phuket’s Yacht Haven Marina at 11.30, having the previous day attended the harbourmaster, immigration and customs offices in Chalong for what turned out to be painless exit procedures. The past month has been given to preparing Babadudu for her 6-month cruise and she now has reinforced canvas awnings and mainsail furling bag, an extra anchor, new batteries and a fully serviced outboard engine for the dinghy. A long list of other maintenance jobs and minor mods have also been accomplished (including the fitting of a reasonably sized fire-retardant safe), all designed to make the cruise comfortable, safe and as free as possible from the less welcome ‘adventures’ that the sea frequently visits upon those who deign to ride its crests.
On board with me and Marivic is my very good friend Graham Collar whom I met through the now defunct BP Yacht Club some 18 years ago. Graham and I have shared many yachting – and other – adventures and I was delighted to have him on the crew which delivered the new Babadudu from Singapore to Phuket in November 2005. It is fitting that Graham should be aboard, even though it is for just two days, marking the end of a holiday to Phuket from his New Zealand home.
With the wind blowing 15 knots from the south west we rolled out the genoa (or headsail) and set a course for the southern point of Koh Yao Yai, one of the two large island which vertically ‘bisect’ the magnificent Phang Nga Bay with its 100-plus islands of forested slopes and towering limestone karsts which have become a symbol of both Thailand and the South East Asian coastline. We make a slight diversion west to the small sand island of Koh Khai Nok, anchoring the boat and swimming for an hour with the myriad small fish which frequent this tour-boat stop-over, lured by the harmful junk food fed to them by unwitting (I’m being kind) tourists. Then it is off to our overnight anchorage in the deserted horseshoe bay at Koh Yao Yai’s southernmost tip (position: 07 deg 53’.453N, 098 deg 35’.210E).
Wednesday 3 June 2009
This usually tranquil bay proved to be a ‘rock and roll’ anchorage as the wind moved to the south, strengthened and barreled into the bay making our first night a noisy and uncomfortable one (but a great test for our skills at stowing gear and supplies). As the boat rolls through a 60 degree arc, there is no appetite for a leisurely breakfast,so instead we hoist the full mainsail and genoa, and with a 20-knot wind on our beam, steer 140 degrees to the island of Phi Don, anchoring in Ton Sai Bay at 11.30 (position: 07 deg 43’.770N, 098 deg 46’.237E).
We go ashore to Phi Phi in the dinghy which, despite the attention given to it earlier, is running irregularly and it appears that another stripping of the carburetor will be called for (I do not relish these engineering chores). Phi Phi, once regarded as one of the world’s ‘must see’ islands, has been ravaged by rapacious tourism. For the land-owners and ‘investors’ who control the island, the priority – with some exceptions – seems to be for shambolic construction and the sale of tourist tat and a parody of ‘paradise’ to visitors, with scant regard for the natural attractions which lured them here in the first place.
Phi Phi could not be further from the images portrayed in ‘The Beach’, the exotic drama filmed on the adjacent island of Phi Phi Le and starring a young Leonardo Di Caprio. The international relief money which is believed to have poured onto the island following the havoc wreaked by the 26December 2004 tsunami might have rejuvenated the island, restoring its grandeur and enhancing the lives of its inhabitants. Instead, Phi Phi Don is left with a shantytown and unanswered questions about where the money went.
My view will not be shared by many and even I will admit that the island on this visit seems a lot cleaner – the rubbish which usually lines its traffic-free paths less in evidence. There are also very few visitors, the global economic downturn and Thai political instability taking its inevitable toll on the vital tourism industry – particularly now at ‘low season’. Or perhaps the people of Phi Phi are tuning to the truth that their jewel needs polishing if it is to gleam seductively when held against the world’s other holiday gems.
Thursday 4 June 2009
We drop Graham at the Phi Phi ferry terminal and wave him a fond farewell as his ship sails for Phuket. For us it is a day of leisure – we buy ice (our fridge not working properly – another job!) and spend the day organising our stores and unpacking and stowing gear. A couple of hours are also spent on cleaning the boat – something I am fastidious about. However, the main achievement of the day is fitting new cockpit speakers which I bought at Los Angeles’ Marina Del Rey during my visit to the US in April this year. The sound quality is astounding, ensuring that we can enjoy the almost 4,000 songs stored on my i-Pod from the cockpit while under sail and when relaxing at anchor.
Friday 5 June 2009
We depart Phi Phi at 09:40, raising full mainsail and genoa for a beat (ie. sailing as close to the direction of the wind as possible) down to Koh Lanta. After rounding the southern tip of this island we sail up its east coast for six miles, anchoring opposite the town of ‘Old Lanta’ (position: 07 deg 32’.243N, 099 deg 06’.176E). This is a beautiful anchorage (a term I must stop using, since it applies to most of our stops). With Koh Lanta to the west, and smaller islands surrounding it on the other compass points, the anchorage appears as a lake – quiet, still and secluded.
Saturday 6 June 2009
Another day at leisure. We take the dinghy to the long pier at Old Lanta and visit the attractive town (really a small village), a collection of old wooden houses and shops served by a tidy main street lined with old-fashion lanterns. No evidence of tourism here. The owner of the general store near the pier is particularly friendly, offering loan of his lounge and internet facilities, and even lunch (which we decline politely). We are lucky that he has ice (no more warm drinks for us for two or three days), and even luckier, when hauling the heavy ice sack back to the dinghy, to be offered a ride down the long pier by a large family in a pick-up truck. Luck is still with us as we ride the dinghy back to the boat – the outboard engine is now running smoothly again!
Sunday 7 June 2009
At 09:30 with the mainsail and genoa filled by a 15 knot wind on our starboard beam, and with Marivic at the helm, we pull away from Koh Lanta on a 150 degree course towards Koh Phetra. Leaving the islands of Kradan and Liang to port we enjoy a marvelous sail down the east coast of Koh Phetra entering worryingly shallow water (at times only 2 feet below the keel!). However, the sea here has a sand bottom and we are at low tide, so even if we were to go aground, the rising tide would soon have us afloat again without damage. We anchor in the southeast tip of the island at dusk after a 44-mile sail (position: 07 deg 01’.603N, 099 deg 28’.677E). Koh Phetra is a forested, almost crenulated limestone ridge cut with caves and with pillars of rock which loom particularly impressively beneath a full moon.
Monday 8 June 2009
We depart the anchorage at 09:45 on a 140 degree course for Koh Tarutao. En route we anchor for 90 minutes off the east coast of Koh Don and snorkel ashore. From the sea, this small island with its attractive sand fringe appears uninhabited, but it in fact has a thriving fishing village complete with rustic shop and school. We are well off the tourist beat so the village is devoted entirely to fishing – nets, floats and fish traps strewn everywhere and a small flotilla of hand-hewn wooden longtail boats anchored on the beach. We press on, anchoring at 18:30 opposite the pier at Ao Talo Wao about midway down the east coast of Tarutao, Thailand’s most southerly island before its border with Malaysia (position: 06 deg 37’.197N, 099 deg 40’.633E).
Marivic and I last went ashore here on 14 October 2008, visiting remains of what was for many years a brutal penal colony. By the mid 1940s the ‘inmates’ were effectively running their own society, many turning to piracy, giving this part of the Malacca Strait its reputation for piracy – one that undeservingly survives today. On announcing this cruise to friends, both here and overseas, I have been asked repeatedly ‘aren’t you afraid of pirates?’ The answer is ‘yes, I probably am’, but I don’t expect to encounter any. However, should Cpt. Jack Sparrow, or rather one of his less affable modern day ilk, pay us a call, I shall of course deny this temptation to fate.
It is a footnote in the rather vague history of mid 20th century Thailand that it was the British (who of course had a colonial presence in neighbouring Malaysia) who were asked by the Thais to mop up the pirates and other wrongdoers – a task they apparently accomplished with relish. I suspect the Thais, who pride themselves on having never being colonised, prefer to forget this episode of hired gunboat diplomacy.
Tuesday 9 June 2009
By 11.30 we are underway on a course to the north eastern edge of Langkawi, the lovely Malaysian island sitting just south of its western border with Thailand. As we cross the border, the Thai courtesy flag – which we fly consistent with maritime custom and law, in addition to our British ensign – is replaced on the starboard crosstrees by the flag of Malaysia.
Now in Malaysia, we enter the folds of Langkawi through a series of channels which lead through a narrow aperture into the so-called ‘Hole in the Wall’ anchorage. By late afternoon (having put clocks forward an hour for Malaysia time) our hook is down and it is time for a ‘sundowner’ (position: 06 deg 25’.238N, 099 deg 52’.005E). This is a special place, surrounded by wooded cliffs fringed at their base by mangrove swamps, the labyrinth of narrow channels which weave through their density accessible by dinghy.
Wednesday and Thursday 10 and 11 June 2009
We decide to stay here a total of three nights, exploiting the realisation that we are no longer bound by time, or in any other way constrained. We explore the mangrove swamps by dinghy, observing at close quarter the eagles as they soar, and then dive upon fish spotted from hundreds of feet above. The outboard engine plays up again and an inspection of the uncovered engine, as we drift powerless upon a strong current, reveals fuel spurting from a split hose connecting the fuel pump to the carburetor. We succeed in coaxing the dinghy to a small tour boat jetty where I borrow a knife, slice off the end of the damaged fuel line, re-fit it, and once more hear the ‘music’ of a firing engine – a temporary job, but it’ll do.
While the extended stay at this anchorage was intended for reading and general relaxation, Marivic spots – and then very ably repairs – a foot-long gash along the leech of the headsail. Not to be totally outdone, I polish the hull. However, there is nothing ‘hair shirt’ about this cruise. Among items stowed to ward off boredom in the unlikely event it strikes, are a portable DVD player and some 50 films. With the aforementioned new cockpit speakers now installed, we link up the DVD player to the yacht’s stereo system using a simple transmitter. The film soundtrack is just amazing, providing a resonant ‘surround sound’ experience. This is supposed to be a ‘technical test’, but we end up watching ‘The Thin Blue Line’ from the cockpit’s cushioned seats, shamefully violating the night silence.
Friday 12 June 2009
It would be easy to continue holing up in the ‘Hole in the Wall’, and we might well have done so, had we not run out of both canned drinks and the ice needed to cool them. So at 09.00, with the sun already beating down on an airless morning, we motor out of the Hole in the Wall, and down the east coast of Langkawi, entering at 14:00 the Royal Langkawi Yacht Club marina. After completing immigration and customs formalities at the adjacent port of Kuah, we hire a car and head out to the south west of the island, and to the Lighthouse restaurant. From a table planted in the sand a few feet from waves whipped up by the south west monsoon, we watch the sunset.
Langkawi to Penang (13 to 18 June 2009)
Saturday and Sunday 13 and 14 June 2009
While hardly exciting, a priority while in Langkawi is to get our fridge fixed. It has not worked properly for some time and now provides no cooling for the boat’s cavernous cold box. While ice-cold drinks may not seem essential (although I would argue this!), being able to preserve fresh and cooked food is more than a luxury – particularly in this climate where the temperatures never falls below 80f and is often above 90f. We track down a refrigeration engineer and he visits the boat. The ‘ice plate’ needs some aluminum welding and the extraction of the unit is clearly going to be no quick or easy job. He returns next day and after more than two hours liberates the ice plate from its almost impossibly ‘secure’ housing.
Langkawi is both a duty free port and a source of items taken for granted in the UK, but often regarded as ‘luxuries’ in Asia due to their rarity or massively inflated prices. We now have a case of Heinz baked beans, boxes of Mars Bars, Cadbury’s chocolate, Colman’s mustard and some good Port, Bailey’s Cream and Carlsberg beer at less than 25p (tbt 12) a can. We also buy 80 litres of fuel at less than a third of the UK price and around 30% cheaper than Thailand.
On our final night in Langkawi we head to ‘The Pier’, a ramshackle but homely expat bar on the seafront where I remembered having fantastic fish and chips on my last visit. This time I have a large steak which is better than anything I tasted in my recent five weeks in the US and cost less than £4 (tbt 200). We get chatting to a 50-something English guy just posted here as an aero engineer. He is wondering what his social life might be like, for while Langkawi has some beautiful beaches and scenery, a party island it is not.
Monday 15 June 2009
Our fridge man appears with a mended ice plate and a new thermostat in a hand-made stainless steel housing. After more than two hours of re-fitting, the fridge is humming again and there is frost around the ice box. What a great job done and I am reminded again how things rarely thought about at home take on a new significance aboard a boat. At 15:00 after clearing customs we depart the Royal Langkawi Yacht Club and head south east for a couple of hours to the north east point of Pulau Singa Besar island, anchoring in 25 a couple of hundred metres from a floating fish farm.
Tuesday 16 June 2009
With the day yet to dawn, we avert catastrophe. The wind has whipped up to well over 20kts in this ‘secure’ anchorage; our anchor has dragged and at 04:00 the stern of Babadudu is swinging literally a few feet from the pontoons of the fish farm. It is Marivic who wakes and spots the danger and within seconds we are motoring forward to safety and hauling the anchor. Our intended departure had been 05:30, but we decide to crack off right away on a 147 degrees course for the island of Penang 60 miles away.
Had Marivic not raised the alarm at the precise moment, we would now be contemplating damage repair. As it is, we are reminded of the lesson that when faced with strong winds and/or currents, it is better to have the chain on the seabed, rather than in the locker! We abort plans to anchor a night on the north of Penang as the heavy swell from the west would make this a very uncomfortable stop-over. Our course is adjusted to Penang’s east coast and shortly after 16:00 we are berthed at Tanjong City Marina near the centre of Georgetown (position: 05 deg 24’.828N, 100 deg 20’.654E).
This marina is swept by the wash of regular mainland ferry boats using the adjacent terminal and is not the most comfortable. But it is within a short walk of Penang’s ‘Little India’ with its curry houses and shops/stalls selling spices, Indian fashions and pirated films and music from the Sub-Continent. We stock up on some 20 different spices called for in an Indian recipe book with which we intend to experiment on this cruise. And of course we have a curry – tasty and at less than £3 for a spicy Madras with pilao rice and a few poppadams, exceptional value.
Wednesday and Thursday 17 and 18 June 2009
Still based at Tanjong City Marina in Georgetown, we hire a motorcycle and explore the resort area of Batu Ferringhi on Penang’s north coast. Back in Little India on Wednesday night we enjoy a curry at Kapitan’s restaurant on colourful Penang Street. Thursday sees us at Penang Hill in the centre of the turtle-shape island and the railway which takes us close to the 2,723-foot summit of a hill range from which the Union Jack fluttered when Penang was one of the crown jewels of the British Empire. To relive this period of colonial ‘glory’, we take a Cornish cream tea at David Brown’s, the ‘quintessential British restaurant and tea terraces’ on Strawberry Hill.
Penang to Port Klang – and Kuala Lumpur – (19 to 29 June 2009)
Friday and Saturday 19 and 20 June 2009
The day starts well enough with some final shopping in Georgetown and the return of our hired motorcycle. At 12.15 we depart Tanjong City Marina using slip lines to counter the combined effects of wind, current and the wash from large ships. With a southerly course towards the six-mile-long bridge connecting Penang to the mainland, all looks well – that is until we run aground on a mud bank at position 05 deg 23’.968N, 100 deg 20’.558E – less than a mile from the marina.
On the chart the bank is shown several hundred yards off our course, but I kick myself for cutting it so fine – particularly on a falling tide (no excuse!). After a few ‘oh deary me’s’ and ‘well bless my boots’, I immediately call up Tanjong City Marina on channel 68 in the hope of summoning a shallow draft motorboat to haul us off. There then follows half an hour of one of the most frustrating radio exchanges I have had to endure. The admin lady in the marina office wants to be helpful, but can’t grasp either the situation or the need for prompt action.
After clear and repeated explanations in tones I struggle to keep measured, I am asked whether I require fuel; do I need a tourist office (?) and – incredibly – whether I could bring the boat back to the marina to discuss my needs? Eventually I’m given the phone number of a marina-based boat owner who understands the problem, but not its urgency. This becomes apparent when the boat arrives an hour (and eight further calls from me) later with three jolly crewmen who are greeted by a severely listing yacht and no hope of pulling it off.
Babadudu went aground at around 13:00 and the next high water is not until 22:00 – nine hours away! What is more significant is that the next high water will only be as high (just) as the level it was at when we ran aground, so our chances of us escaping the bank’s iron grip using our own power are less than slim. We ask the motor boat to return around 20:00 and in the meantime sit and watch as the water level falls still further leaving us at low water (17:00) surveying Penang channel from a 45-degree angle. Somewhat to our surprise, the boat does return, but the crew is inexperienced and while clumsily trying to secure our towline to their vessel, one of the young men impales himself on a large fishhook which has been left dangling idly from a sea rod.
The boat needs to return to the marina to drop the poor guy off for treatment and we are naturally sympathetic. However, there is a danger that the high tide will peak, only to fall again leaving us stranded for another 12 hours. Luckily, for a third time, our trusty tow boat arrives back on the scene and after a half-hour pull with the full thrust of two 145hp outboard engines, Babadudu inches itself the 100 yards across hard mud and – to our cries of delight – into deep water. We have agreed a not unreasonable fee with the boat and crew and add on a little a tip which sees us all part in good cheer – they stuck with us and did a good job!
We continue our southerly track towards Penang Bridge, trying to make sense of a myriad navigational, fishing and other lights, passing under it at 22:00. With Marivic sat on the bows with the spotlight, we avoid various fishing hazards running down the east coast of Pulau Jerejak, and then turn up its west coast to anchor in 30’ at position 05 deg 19’.036N, 100 deg 18’.466E. It is 23:45 and we are glad to be here. Saturday is spent at leisure at the anchorage, tending to a variety of small jobs and passage-planning.
Sunday and Monday 21 and 22 June 2009
At 04:00 we are underway, heading to the southern tip of Penang and then on a southerly course towards Lamut, a distance of some 65 miles which should see us anchored up by late afternoon. The night sky is being illuminated continuously by sheet lightening, a harbinger, we fear, of the squally weather anticipated in the Malacca Strait this time of year. But, no, the dawn brings with it a clear sky and the strange sight of dozens of fishing boats, strung out like a battle flotilla along a shallow bank on our port side. Indeed, our own depth gauge shows just 10-feel below the hull, and with the lessons of
a few days ago still fresh, we turn 10 degrees starboard into deeper water.
At 16:00 we enter the north-west channel into Lamut, leaving Pangkor Island to starboard, and run east down the Dinding River, past the Malaysian navy yards. We anchor off the Lamut International Yacht Club (position: 04 deg 14’.278N, 100 deg 38’.453E). The next day (Sunday) we row ashore to explore Lamut which turns out to be a pleasant navy town and a local tourist resort with clean streets and an old-fashioned promenade. We make the mistake of going to the Yacht Club for dinner.
While the staff at reception had been welcoming, the food and service was diabolical. The club was later described to us as being a fitting set for a horror movie – a little unfair as the colonial building is not unattractive and the ample gardens and large swimming pool do hint of a yesteryear style. But like so many old institutions in this part of the world, the Lamut International Yacht club appears to have been abandoned by its former clientele (many of whom I suspect have sailed into the sunset for the last time) and now lies somewhat neglected by its current ‘custodians’.
Tuesday 23 to Friday 26 June 2009
It is considered good seamanship for those sailing offshore, particularly at night, to prepare a ‘grab bag’. This is a waterproof bag positioned strategically near the hatchway and containing those items that might prove useful – indeed, essential to survival – in the event of a catastrophe requiring us to ‘take to the lifeboats’ – or in our case to the inflatable dinghy which we tow behind the yacht. Our bag (which I have just prepared) features, among other things, various distress flares, VHF radio, hand-held GPS (global positioning system), signaling mirror, water, t-shirts and sun hats and a foghorn.
Most importantly, it has a knife, tied to the neck of the bag and ready instantly to cut the dinghy tow line, thus preventing it from being dragged to the seabed by a fast-sinking yacht! We are leaving today for Port Klang, a 100-mile sail which will involve a full night passage. This is not remarkable in itself, but this is a relatively quiet stretch of coast and, unlike in European, US and Australasian waters, there is no Coastguard; nobody to summon help from, so good preparation is key.
For me, this preparation has included reading up on how to use my radar, which was fitted at not inconsiderable expense and which I confess to having only a cursory knowledge of. In particular, I have learned how to track ‘targets’ (vessels picked up by radar) and so determine their speed, direction of travel and – importantly – the closest distance they will approach, and thus the risk of collision. Another useful feature, which I have hitherto ignored, is the warning zone – the creation of a ‘cake slice’ wedge on the radar screen radiating several miles ahead of the yacht’s course. In the event a vessel, buoy, piece of land, or anything else that can be picked up by radar, ‘strays’ into this wedge, then an alarm sounds.
Suitably prepared, we depart Lamut at 11:30 for Klang and as darkness falls we set up 3-hours on, 3- hours off watches – the watch-keeper being responsible for keeping a lookout, monitoring and correcting our course, trimming the sails, and generally managing the boat while the other rests. At midnight Marivic takes her first single night watch and the fact she keeps us on course and out of harm’s way without complaining of tiredness comes as no surprise to me. As we approach Klang, the shipping intensifies, perhaps not surprisingly given that this is Malaysia’s busiest port.
The new-found radar skills prove invaluable as massive container and other ships pass within a 100 or so yards of us as we navigate just outside the main shipping lane. The currents in this area are the strongest on the coast, reaching five knots – fortunately, at this time, in our favour. The strong tide propels us to our destination faster than calculated and at 05:00 we are at the entrance to the narrow channel passing the Royal Selangor Yacht Club. However, we encounter very shallow water and to avoid the risk of going aground on a falling tide at night in strong currents, we drop anchor and catch a few hours of uninterrupted sleep (position: 02 deg 59’.916N, 101 deg 23’.174E).
Next morning (Wednesday 24 June) we call up the yacht club which sends a ‘pilot’ to guide us to a berth on a floating pontoon in the middle of the fast-flowing channel opposite the clubhouse. The Royal Selangor Yacht Club is a far cry from Lamut – this is a large, well-run facility, furnished in dark hardwoods and with (we later discover) a good restaurant. The club also has a slipway enabling keel yachts to be hauled up a ramp at high tide on slings so that work below the waterline can be carried out.
The work we need done does not bear a graphic description; suffice to say that the large ball valve which drains the holding tank of our heads into the open sea has stuck fast. Having already pumped the holding tank dry with the hand pump procured in Lamut, the job now is to haul the yacht out of the water and replace the stop cock valve (the valve cannot be replaced while the yacht is afloat as its removal would open a large hole in the hull).
This is a difficult and unpleasant task and we are extremely fortunate, both in arranging a haul-out with the yacht club and finding a competent and affable English engineer willing to do the job. On Thursday (25 June) the engineer and I drive into Klang – a major industrial centre – where we buy the valve, and also a hard-to-find piece of 12mm thick plexi-glass (our cracked hatch cover also needs replacing). That evening, at high tide, the club’s able crew winch Babadudu up the slipway and we spend the night on ‘dry land’.
Next morning, our engineer, Martin, arrives and manages the not easy task of removing the old stopcock and replacing it with the new – we now have clean and properly functioning heads (but what a performance!). Meanwhile, I had intended changing my engine oil and oil/fuel filters in Singapore, but with the able Martin on board, I get him to do it. Now all he has to do is make our new hatch cover and
we have accomplished three major jobs while visiting the Royal Selangor Yacht Club. Tonight (Friday 26 June), the yacht will be lowered back into the water and tomorrow (Saturday 27 June) Marivic and I will take the train to Kuala Lumpur for a two-night exploration of the Malaysian capital, returning to the yacht on Monday 29 June.
Steve Lawrence 