Island Life

Living in a self-contained unit makes you acutely aware of how much energy you use. This extends from head torch batteries (we use them for night watches, in the dinghy, ashore…), to diesel for the main engine, petrol for the two dinghy outboards (both two-stroke) to gas for cooking.

We carry 360 litres of diesel, the main engine using between 0.7 and 2.2 litres per hour, depending on whether we’re charging batteries or going flat out. I’m not sure how the 80 litres of petrol will last, as I’ve used the new outboard so little I have no idea on the consumption. For cooking, we have a range of gas- four primus tanks for the main oven, a backup camp stove, and separate small cylinders for the pushpit BBQ.

I installed an inverter (500 W), so we can take 230 V off the 12 V house batteries – ideal for charging camera batteries, rechargeable printer, dive torches… etc.

When the 360 Ahr AGM house batteries are fully charged they can run the fridge (biggest consumer), water pumps, miscellaneous lights etc, for about two and a half to three days at anchor. On a typical passage, we’ll run the engine enough to fully charge the batteries without even thinking about it, although the Chartplotter, radar and autopilot are also heavy drains. The problem comes when we’re at anchor for extended periods, after the initial two-to-three days, we need to run the engine for about two hours each day. It’s hardly efficient, running a 40 hp engine (although, of course not at full output) to run a 25 amp alternator, but that’s the compromise we have to live with for the moment. Either that or buy two thousand miles of shore power cable…

23 May 2009

I’m woken, as usual, with the sun at about 6am. I keep the large deck hatch above the head of my bed open for the night time breeze and enjoy the gentle waking that comes from the slowly rising ambient light levels. The nearest other person is well over a hundred meters away, so I can practice my yawning and stretching routine without fear of embarrassment.

I’ve treated myself to a coffee this morning. ‘Treated’, not because coffee is a precious commodity here – you can even get a decent espresso if you walk across the causeway to the next island; but because it’s a bit of a hassle boiling the kettle for one preparation. The gas needs turning on (and off) in three places (cylinder, isolating valve and stove, for safety). What’s more, my funky yellow kettle has developed a slow leak from its bottom.

The breeze, which has been a constant fifteen to twenty knots for the last few days, has dropped off. I’m glad that it’s cleared the sea-grass collection that was starting to gather around the boat. Sea-grass is great for turtles but not for toilet water intakes, and mine was beginning to protest at the annoying foreign bodies struggling to enter the pipe system.

It’s not often that I write the blog in the morning, but on this occasion, I’m pleased that I’ve matched the “theme music” to the task and mood of the moment, with Dido on the stereo. Actually, its Helen’s stereo. I gave it to her for Christmas and she was kind enough to allow me to install it on Aroha. I’ve been quite successful on the ‘theme music’ to date, missing the target once, but significantly. Jamiroquai is definitely not the right music to set the mood for changing engine oil.

The anchorage is quiet. The French registered yacht has returned to Chagos, before heading to Phuket. Bernd has returned to Dubai for a week to sort out ‘real-life’ stuff like selling cars and visiting girlfriends, leaving me to have a look over Chimani every other day.

Two large motor boats arrived yesterday. They are of the ‘trawler’ type. Up ‘til now I’d only seen them in magazines. They have the working look of fishing trawlers, but with lashings of stainless steel, dark tinted windows, and a plethora of communication antennas and dishes. These displacement craft are designed for motoring long distances at low speeds with ranges around three thousand miles. I chatted to the captain of one; a family man of confused nationality (French-Italian-South African…) and found that they’d come from the Seychelles. The pirate situation seems to be completely out of hand now; they found it necessary to pay a private security firm twenty five thousand dollars (!) to escort them the first three hundred miles offshore.

Dominique didn’t have anything nice to say about the Seychelles – claiming the islands as expensive, inconvenient, and the locals as ‘less than friendly’. I’m disappointed to hear this, but also glad in a way, as we’ve already decided to take this destination off our itinerary.

I’m really enjoying my coffee. It’s mornings like these that make me want to stay on board and do nothing more strenuous than read my book for the whole day…

24 May 2009

I’d noted a contradiction in an earlier blog about who sank the ‘British Loyalty’ oil tanker in 1944. Different sources told me the Japanese or the Germans. It turns out that everyone had a go. Firstly the Japanese hit it when it was en route from India to Mauritius. It limped into the lagoon in front of Gan, the WWII British base. The Germans then torpedoed it from a submarine, through a hole in the submarine defences. Still floating, the Brits towed it further up the lagoon. Two years later in 1946, the Brits used it for target practice and finally put it to rest on the lagoon floor.

Helen and I wondered at the line up of medium-sized freight boats anchored in the lagoon in front of the town. They seemed to spend quite a bit of time out there, but not doing anything. It turns out that they are fish processing/freezing boats- the local fishermen drive right up to them with their day’s catch and sell it right there and then. When the boat’s full, it returns to Male or the local processing/exporting centre.

On a dive with Helen the week before last, I noticed a very odd starfish. It had one normal length ‘leg’, and four tiny little ones. It turns out that if this particular type of starfish loses an arm ‘in battle’ (errr, that’s what the book says…, maybe they arm wrestle?), not only can the amputee grow a replacement arm, but the amputated ARM itself can grow another FOUR arms! My book goes on to say that “starfish also use it this regenerative function for reproducing asexually”. I guess they don’t brag to their mates about that though…

The older local houses have walls made from coral blocks. The new ones are made from concrete block. The ones in between are made from a combination. My agent and friend here explained the elaborate process of making the lime that bonds the blocks together. I can’t remember the details but it involves baking sea shells with palm fronds for days on end to get the bonding agent that remains a stark white colour after many years of exposure to the elements. Laith commented that if it was up to him, he wouldn’t allow concrete block construction to soil the coral block aesthetic.

It turns out that it’s illegal to collect coral for construction purposes. In the past when practised to excess, has caused soil erosion. They don’t have too much soil here in the Maldives and so try to look after what they have. The sand for construction is now imported from India. Imagine selling white sand to Maldivians… Now that’s a marketing challenge.