At dawn, we were coasting up the E coast of Belitung on our way to Kelayang on the NW corner of the island. That was the only place we had any information on and I knew we could get fuel there. As we neared the coast, we picked up an internet connection via the mobile network and I downloaded email to find one from some friends in Singapore. They mentioned that the Sail Indonesia Rally -- including friends on s/v Mr. John IV -- were currently on the E side of Belitung. I picked up the VHF and called and John of Mr. John answered. Turns out we were only 10 miles away.

John gave me a slew of waypoints to get us in over the river bar. He also said they were leaving that morning but we could get fuel and whatever else we needed. So we hurriedly replotted a route, changed course, adjusted sails and in a couple of hours we were anchored in the river next to Mr. John. Unfortunately, John and Paula were leaving on the high tide in 30 minutes. We quickly put the dinghy together and went over for a brief hello and goodbye. They gave us all the info about the local tourism board representative who would help us get whatever we needed. Seems they really rolled out the red carpet for the Rally here and the Rally participants have been wined and dined and entertained like nowhere else. All for free.

We waved goodbye to Mr. John and rushed in to arrange fuel. It was only 9:30am and we hoped we could fuel up, check out of Indonesia, and be on our way by the next morning. This would save us a day of travel and quite a few miles as well.

On shore we found a slew of tour guides, guards, port representatives, tourism board reps and other uniformed people all waiting around to help the yachties. I found Hans, the local tourism board rep -- an interesting character with 1.5" long nails on his pinkies, a couple of sharpened teeth (in his mouth), and a pretty swish disposition. He was also extremely friendly and helpful. Could we get fuel? Oh yes. But this man here (indicating a dour-faced Swiss named Peter) was first and already waiting and here is the truck waiting so can you bring your jerry cans in right now? I rushed back to the boat, ADR and I quickly emptied the jerrys into the main tank -- which is never a quick process as we always siphon and filter -- and then back on shore to deliver the cans.

The truck was gone. We might not get our fuel today, Hans told us. There are two other boats ahead of us and the fuel is parceled out by the government because of requirements of the machines used in the local tin mines. The Rally boats were all getting 100 liters free. We didn't mind paying for the fuel, we just wanted to get some. Hans would try. As for checkout, that would take 2 days at least. So much for that idea.

In the meantime, Hans invited us to come back at noon for lunch. So back to the boat, clean up, straighten up, shave (me), etc. This was after a 5-day passage so we were a bit tired. Back to shore where a minibus took about 20 Rally folks and us for a 3-minute drive to a restaurant overlooking the river. Buffet lunch (excellent) and lots of beer (too bad we were so tired and didn’t feel like drinking). It was a bit strange with all the yachties sitting at a long table and all the Indonesian 'handlers' (there were at least 10 of them) sitting at another.

After a couple of hours Hans showed up and when I asked him about fuel he said that there were 4 boats in front of us and we probably couldn't get fuel until the day after tomorrow. Well that put me into a bit of a funk. What were our options? We couldn't even leave until the next morning because we'd missed the tide over the river bar. ADR and I decided to walk back to the harbor and think about it. The Rally yachties were nice but we didn't want to sit around all afternoon and watch gringos get drunk. We had been warned by John and Paula that we would need to be forceful with the handlers to be allowed to walk anywhere. The Indonesians were very concerned that everything go perfectly and didn't want people wandering off. But we said we had been at sea for 5 days and really needed to stretch our legs and they relented.

Walking back to the harbour we saw this great example of local scaffolding.

When we got back to the harbour we were surprised to find that the tide was high slack. We could still get out! But where were our jerry jugs? I asked a Coast Guardsman on a motorbike for a ride back to the restaurant. He was very obliging and off we went. By the time I got there some of the Rally folk were pretty drunk and dancing around but I found Hans in the confusion and told him we were going to leave and head to our original destination of Kelayang. He looked crestfallen, so we told him we weren't angry with him and that since we weren’t with the Rally we didn't expect special treatment. So no problem. He was clearly concerned that we might be upset but I think I convinced him otherwise. (We really weren't upset with him --- except for the moving target of how many boats were in front of us in the fuel line...)

Obviously, you might wonder why we didn't just go to the gas station. Because of the Rally, there were no locals offering their services to fill our jerry cans and Hans said the price at the pump would be more than twice the cost we usually pay. We hadn't seen a cab and, though the tourist board would drive you to the supermarket or anywhere else you wanted to go, it was clear Hans didn't want us going to the petrol station.

Alene then showed up at the restaurant as the Coast Guardsman had politely gone back to get her. Hans had one of his associates drive us back to the harbor and show us where the jerrys were. We grabbed them, zoomed back to the boat, took off the dingy motor, brought the dinghy on deck, and raised anchor as fast as possible to speed down river to get out before the tide dropped too far.

Alene wisely suggested we anchor outside the river and figure out what we wanted to do. Most of the Rally boats were anchored outside along the coast so we dropped the hook near the edge of the pack. As we discussed our options, ADR suddenly exclaimed, "our papers!". In the morning we'd brought our paperwork to the tourism board so they could log us in. They wanted copies of everything except our Customs Clearance of which they required the original. And they still had it. Thank goodness Alene remembered. We wouldn’t be able to check out of the country without the original.

So we launched the dink again and I zoomed into the river (now a mile away) to find someone to help. Another motor scooter ride (from one of the tour guides) to a nearby beach where a big event was going on (possibly tied to the Rally; I couldn't get a clear answer), to find Artur who had our papers all ready for us. Back to the harbour where I again found Hans. Feeling bad, he presented me with a slew of souvenir gifts and said that though Manggar (the town we were in) wasn't beautiful, it was still a nice place and he hoped we would return. I thanked him and assured him we didn't have a problem over the fuel and we would return someday. As I was departing, poor Peter (the Swiss) was still moping around wondering about his fuel and on the edge of deciding to go to Kelayang himself.

Back to the boat, unship the motor, and pull up the dingy for the second time. But now the current was raging from the N -- the direction we wanted to go. No reason to leave and try to go against it so we decided to wait until it changed --- probably at 4AM. We could go to bed early and get some much-needed sleep.

Shortly thereafter, the radio crackled with a couple of Rally boats. Turns out Hans had just showed up on the pier with 1000 liters of fuel. We knew it wasn't for us but I called one of the Rally boats and offered our empty jerry cans since he didn't have any.

We settled down to our dinner of popcorn (I didn't feel like cooking). Just as we finished we got a call on the radio from the boat with our jerry cans. Hans had 100 liters of fuel for us. 100 liters (about 26 gallons) added to what remained in our tank, might just be enough to get us to Singapore even if there was no wind (which is what was forecast). We could avoid the detour to Kelayang.

So we launched the dingy again. Both of us went in this time. We found Hans and Artur with five old 20-liter cooking oil jugs smothered in diesel and dirt. The fuel was free -- no charge! It was very kind of him, but we sure wished we had our jerry jugs (which were being used by the other boat at the time). We gingerly loaded everything into Plover. A mile back out to the anchorage trying to keep most of the diesel in the jugs in spite of the leaking caps.

Now we aren't obsessive, but we really don't like putting diesely dirt all over Migration. So we carefully spread plastic on the decks and tried to minimize the grime. ADR hauled the jugs around (my back still not allowing me to lift heavy stuff) and by 9:30pm we had the fuel in the main tank. In the meantime our jerry jugs were returned (covered in diesel, unfortunately). ADR cleaned up while I jumped back in the dinghy and zoomed into the river again to return Hans's oil jugs.

By 11:00pm we were showered and ready for bed. ADR had been up for 23 hours -- since midnight the previous night when she went on watch -- so she was exhausted. I plotted a course for the morning's 6am departure and then joined her for a wonderful, if short, sleep.

All that in 14 hours. It certainly wasn’t our most efficient detour, but we had a good laugh about it.

I’ve been writing a poem every day for the last several months. Here’s my poem from that day.
 

THE GOOD LIFE

Everyone thinks
it's
Cool drinks watching the sunset
Snorkeling through a confetti of fish
Lounging on palm-fringed sands
Sailing smoothly between lush islands
Swimming with dolphins by moonlight

But sometimes
it's
sitting in a dirty dinghy
motoring out of a smelly river
soaked by salty spray
surrounded by five disgusting containers
containing one hundred liters of diesel
(inside and out)
to hoist and heft and siphon and filter
at ten-thirty on a
hot
muggy night.

Still,
it's
worth it.