Salamat Datang!
My previous blog had us sailing into Malaysian waters about six months ago – now returning by air, it seems fitting to title this one “Welcome to Malaysia”! In an earlier blog, I cautiously revealed how I felt like I’ve broken the matrix – fitting more into a year by alternating seasons on board Aroha with seasons at our base in Devon. You can catch that blog here – it’s a good one.
This is Fifty – Ripening Nicely
I returned to Malaysia about two weeks ago, so the broken matrix is back in action. It’s strange thinking that just a few weeks ago I was enjoying daily wild swimming sessions in the cool water of the English channel, and here I am now in our “other world”.
Every sailing season starts with boat jobs – new antifoul coating on the hull, engine service, and commissioning onboard systems like AC and the watermaker. A eureka moment as we were sailing out of India almost three years ago; on what felt like an underloved boat that’d been languishing in an Indian marina for two Covid-years; was changing my mindset from “I hope nothing goes wrong” to “I hope I’m prepared for when things go wrong”. Similarly, in addition to the usual tasks, I now plan for one big maintenance issue each season, and expect another big issue to arise.
I tried making my own “expectation vs reality” meme below. When I shared this with my little sister, she saw right through me, reminding me that I’ve owned Aroha for long enough to know the reality of boat ownership.
This year’s big planned upgrade was changing out the bronze through hull fittings for composite ones. These are the fittings that – as the name suggests – go through the hull, to let water in (for engine cooling, the watermaker, etc) and water or waste out (AC condensate, sinks, toilet). I’ve never felt comfortable with the obvious weak points of corrosive bronze fittings below the waterline, so I also took this opportunity to raise the ones that I could above the waterline – now just the necessary ones remain below the water line – engine cooling, watermaker, AC, and toilet flushing water. I’m glad I got the yard to do the work – they employed blow torches and grinders to remove the old ones, confirming my suspicion that that job was outside my comfort zone. Now that this big job is done and this weak point reduced, I definitely sleep better afloat.
The unplanned job (so far 😉 is replacing the canvas spray dodger. It’s only five years old, but multiple monsoon seasons haven’t been kind on it. Also, the two solar panels on the dodger have deteriorated quicker than the other four, but I think I’ll live without them and look at replacing them later.
Last year’s unplanned upgrade was farewelling and replacing our old dinghy Patches. Patches got a blog mention as we were leaving India – my friend mentioned that I’d never be able to repair the rat-chewed holes – making me extra determined to, well, add even more patches to Patches. The continuing repairs were good enough for two more seasons, but last year after a particularly deflating experience, we had to make the $difficult$ decision to replace him. We’d become quite attached to Patches. He was a gentleman dinghy, and like our camper Cyril, elderly and frail, and we often spoke words of encouragement and appreciation to them both. But that didn’t stop Helen taking a craft knife to Patches, effectively “scalping” him, to make a set of protective chaps for our new Highfield dinghy, George! It may seem a little odd making a brand new dinghy look old and scrappy, but it’s a sure way to make him look less appealing to thieves.
Alternating seasons of life afloat and life ashore comes with its challenges. It takes a while to get back into the sailing life, and it surprised me just how uncomfortable I felt doing things for the first time this sailing season. It’s not helped that I’m sailing solo – Helen’s wrapping up some consulting work and so is joining me in a few weeks. I’ve got used to playing both captain and admiral roles, and talking to myself as I did so;
“Six meters depth, ready to anchor!”. Walk to the front of the boat.
“OK, thirty meters of chain out! Snubber on”. Walk back to the helm.
“Reversing, holding steady! Anchor alarm on”.
Of course I miss having the admiral here not just to do half the work, but to also check each others decisions. There was a time a few years back when we were cruising the Maldives – I did the passage plan, noting the weather, tide, distances and route. I talked it through with Helen as a means of double checking – and she corrected a vital mistake I’d made misreading the chart. I like to think that we would noticed my mistake before running into the reef, but it proves that our double-checking system works.
On the more mundane side, it took me the first three nights on board to remember where various kitchen utensils live, and that jamming a toy hippo behind the cabin door stops it from squeaking in it’s catch.
Cruisers have a real sense of community. I usually make an effort to say hi to other cruisers in the same anchorage, and doing this I met a friendly Dutch couple who let me tag along on a snorkelling trip to a nearby island – normally well within my and George’s comfort zones. I just appreciated a bit of comfort as I (re-)build up my confidence.
Our cruising plans this season are unashamedly unambitious. We intend to stay local to Langkawi island, enjoying the beautiful small islands just south, the mangrove geopark in the north, and a few pretty beaches on the north. We also plan to enjoy the convenience of staying in a couple of the marinas – sometimes it’s nice sleeping with the air con on, and being able to step off the boat and more easily enjoy attractions ashore.
Follow and like us to be notified of future blogs!
www.facebook.com/ripeningnicely
