We were anchored at Gili Bodo next to the coral reef, in magnificent isolation, when we saw this big boat, bedecked with black flags, steaming purposefully towards us from seawards. Pirates? Southern Filipino ISIS kidnappers? Nope, just a load of semi-naked German backpackers out for a day trip from Labuan Bajo.
After the long hauls we'd had from Australia and southwards across the Banda Sea, we were faced with the absolute luxury of a series of day-hops across the top of the island chain. Feet up, daylight motoring or motor sailing with the odd few hours of actually just....plain sailing. Our first stop after the laid-back luxury of Maumere was outside the village of Maurole. (Confusing isn't it).
A tiny, poor, Christian village, with a Catholic church.
On our first evening there, the local ladies were embarrassed that there was no food available for us. So they rounded up fresh ingredients from the tables of local families, and pitched in to make us a big dinner while we drank cold beer in the shade. And they did it again the next night, too! Amazing hospitality....some of the locals went without their dinners just to feed the yachties. (A couple of nights later we had the "official" welcome dinner where the town really turned it on for us, with singing, dancing, stageshow and most of the village just lined up to watch us eat).
From Maurole, most of us piled into buses for the trip up into the mountains of Flores to visit the allegedly famous three-coloured lakes. Which are usually just plain grey if there's the normal raincloud covering them.
A tiny, poor, Christian village, with a Catholic church.
On our first evening there, the local ladies were embarrassed that there was no food available for us. So they rounded up fresh ingredients from the tables of local families, and pitched in to make us a big dinner while we drank cold beer in the shade. And they did it again the next night, too! Amazing hospitality....some of the locals went without their dinners just to feed the yachties. (A couple of nights later we had the "official" welcome dinner where the town really turned it on for us, with singing, dancing, stageshow and most of the village just lined up to watch us eat).
From Maurole, most of us piled into buses for the trip up into the mountains of Flores to visit the allegedly famous three-coloured lakes. Which are usually just plain grey if there's the normal raincloud covering them.
Some of the boat crews doing it tough in the shade of Maumere's Sea World Resort....
Olaf and Andrea, German circumnavigators from the yacht "Antares" showing off the three coloured lakes.
We were particularly lucky, as the sun burst through the clouds just as we began the hike up through the volcanic mountains from the carpark. Braving naughty monkeys holding up tourists for snacks, we were happy to have made the effort. Really a unique place to visit.....
 And the third of the three-colour lakes. Definitely a different colour. It was a rolly old night that night, and all the jokes about Maurole being called "more rolly" came true. So there was a bit of an evacuation from there the next morning, most of the fleet heading for the little fishing village and port of Ruing. |  Mark from "Coomera" |
 The AIS screen tells the story of an uncomfortable night on the anchor. The procession of boats says it all. "AIS" is an international system of tracking other AIS-equipped boats' identities, locations, speed and course. |  Rice paddies on the road to the three-colour lakes. The climate at the top is quite cool, and normally quite damp. |
The beautiful French boat "Max", an Amel 54, on the run to Ruing. A nasty-looking tropical storm on her stern, that fortunately looked a lot worse than it really was. The wind was virtually nil, so we all exercised the diesels.
Ruing is a funny but friendly little place that seems to be wrestling with its identity. On the cusp of cracking the tourist market, it has wonderful diving locations nearby, some very western-oriented restaurants and backpacker accommodation, yet it retains its earthy Indonesian character.
Ashore from our anchorage sits the Rica-Rica Bar, which offers cold Bintang beer and the normal menu of chicken, rice, vegies....and not much else. So we ordered the chicken.
Ten minutes and a couple of phone calls later, into the kitchen, via the restaurant floor, runs someone with two squawking, live chickens. Then silence. Twenty minutes later, dinner is served. Wonderful. Fresh chicken. And yes, it was delicious.
Ashore from our anchorage sits the Rica-Rica Bar, which offers cold Bintang beer and the normal menu of chicken, rice, vegies....and not much else. So we ordered the chicken.
Ten minutes and a couple of phone calls later, into the kitchen, via the restaurant floor, runs someone with two squawking, live chickens. Then silence. Twenty minutes later, dinner is served. Wonderful. Fresh chicken. And yes, it was delicious.
Our wobbly dinghy dock, which we shared with the tourist dive boats, has seen better days......
 And if there's a tsunami on the way, we can head for the hills and skip the cafe/resto. Meanwhile, at right, the roadside fresh vege market in the hills offers plenty of choice if you like choco's and cabbage. |  |
We had a great social afternoon drinking cold Bintang in the Rica Rica Bar the next day, and shared the last of our boat-stored Australian steak with Brian and Penny from the boat "Ameldec" that night. Plus a few bottles of red....which, strangely enough, we've barely touched since leaving Australia. We haven't been eating too many meals on the boat actually, the restaurant food ashore in most places is usually very good, and very cheap. And, of course, some of the "official" buffet welcome dinners keep us fed, too.
Just another day on the beach at Maumere.
From Ruing, it was onwards to an overnight anchorage at Lingeh Bay, in company with just one other yacht, the New Zealand "Kereru". It was Val's birthday so we had cocktails with her and Richard, after we'd spent most of the afternoon wrangling with local kids who'd paddled out, demanding freebies. "Books, mistah? Pens? Money?"
It seems a little sad that generous cruisers in the past have just created some kind of little industry or false expectation by handing over "loot" and we now have a policy of only swapping stuff. Even just one piece of fruit makes it more of a dignified trade rather than pious charity.
It seems a little sad that generous cruisers in the past have just created some kind of little industry or false expectation by handing over "loot" and we now have a policy of only swapping stuff. Even just one piece of fruit makes it more of a dignified trade rather than pious charity.
Cute but pesky. "Helloooo Mistahhhh!" I wonder if they'd sell their little boat....
From Lingeh Bay it was onto the beautiful, deserted coral atoll of Gili Bodo. We dropped anchor in solitude, with nobody for miles, and had more than a few nervous moments when a dark-looking fishing boat, flying black flags, came powering towards us from out at sea.
As it drew closer, we felt relieved and put the cutlasses away when we realised it was just a day-trip snorkelling adventure boat, which dropped anchor next to us.
The passengers.....German backpackers....promptly stripped off and dived in, to swim to the beach and party.
Meanwhile, I was into the water too, for some excellent snorkelling, and eventually the tourist boat left, and "Kereru" and "Ameldec" arrived for a particularly peaceful night on the anchor.
I've rediscovered the joy of snorkelling by the way, since using my "Easybreathe" goggle/snorkel combo.
As it drew closer, we felt relieved and put the cutlasses away when we realised it was just a day-trip snorkelling adventure boat, which dropped anchor next to us.
The passengers.....German backpackers....promptly stripped off and dived in, to swim to the beach and party.
Meanwhile, I was into the water too, for some excellent snorkelling, and eventually the tourist boat left, and "Kereru" and "Ameldec" arrived for a particularly peaceful night on the anchor.
I've rediscovered the joy of snorkelling by the way, since using my "Easybreathe" goggle/snorkel combo.
 |  |
In the morning, it was up early for another snorkel around the reef and a SUP expedition to the beach. We'd seen a troupe of monkeys playing on the beach the previous afternoon (no, not with the German backpackers) and it was kinda cute to see their little hand and footprints in the sand. So Gili Bodo is a great place....but onwards we had to go, off to the city of Labuan Bajo.
A classic old port city, with stone walls around the docks, and all the bustle and hum of a real, working port that's having a tourism influx to keep things alive. There's big freighters, passenger ferries, and an amazing assortment of classic wooden Phinisi tall ships that service both the tourist trade and the outlying islands freight needs.
We cruised around the harbour until we found a suitable anchorage, being greeted by boat service people and ordering fuel...and being tempted by a beautiful string of local pearls offered by our fuel supplier, Mary splurged an entire $30 on a necklace.
The next day it was off to town in the dinghy, where it was a grungy tie-up against a concrete wall, but another boat trader offered to keep an eye on the dink for the rest of the day. (Which he did, but I did feel a bit obliged to invite him out to "El Gato" later to inspect his wares).
After the past couple of months of what's been pretty hard-core, local Indonesian food, we were most impressed to find a city with lots of Western goodies that we didn't even know we'd been missing. Bread! A Mexican brunch! Cafes! Italian restaurants! We were overwhelmed....and back in Tourist Territory with a vengeance.
The next day it was off to town in the dinghy, where it was a grungy tie-up against a concrete wall, but another boat trader offered to keep an eye on the dink for the rest of the day. (Which he did, but I did feel a bit obliged to invite him out to "El Gato" later to inspect his wares).
After the past couple of months of what's been pretty hard-core, local Indonesian food, we were most impressed to find a city with lots of Western goodies that we didn't even know we'd been missing. Bread! A Mexican brunch! Cafes! Italian restaurants! We were overwhelmed....and back in Tourist Territory with a vengeance.
From the balcony of our Mexican Restaurant and bakery, it's not your normal Harbour View.
So what attracts all of the tourists to Labuan Bajo is the city's proximity to the very wonderful Komodo Islands, with their even more wonderful Komodo Dragons and excellent diving and snorkelling and the infrastructure to make it all easy. It's a young, adventure-oriented place and it's just plain groovy to be there. We had a couple of classic dinners ashore...BBQ fish at the seafood market, and an astounding eye fillet steak at the Italian restaurant.
With a couple of other boat crews, ("Incognita" and "Kereru") we decided it would be a great little break to let somebody else do the driving and navigating, and charter a local speedboat to go see the Dragons. So our dutiful skipper picked us all up from our boats in the anchorage and off we plodded (it was a budget-priced speedboat) to the island of Rincha, where there's a very healthy population of these giant lizards that can eat an entire buffalo in a single sitting.
With a couple of other boat crews, ("Incognita" and "Kereru") we decided it would be a great little break to let somebody else do the driving and navigating, and charter a local speedboat to go see the Dragons. So our dutiful skipper picked us all up from our boats in the anchorage and off we plodded (it was a budget-priced speedboat) to the island of Rincha, where there's a very healthy population of these giant lizards that can eat an entire buffalo in a single sitting.
 Our protective Park Ranger with his protective Stick. Only 5 rangers have been eaten in recent years. |  Our not-so-speedy speedboat to Rincha. |
This lil cutie had killed and eaten a buffalo just a few days before, so didn't need to eat again for another month or so. Buffaloes obviously take a little time to digest, and he had no appetite for humans. Just yet.
This big bloke, well over 3 metres long, hasn't just eaten a buffalo, and is seen here charging down a hill towards us at a great rate of knots. There was a bit of back-pedalling and even the Stick-equipped Park Rangers were running for cover.
We were fortunate to see some big dragons shortly after entering the National Park, but they'd all eaten recently and were quite docile-looking. (Although the rangers insist on accompanying anyone who wants to walk the 20 metres to the toilet block.) This is no zoo, there are no fences.
It was once we were out on the trail, trekking through the bush with a Ranger before and after our group, that we had a serious encounter. We were looking at a medium-sized female near her nest, when we heard a crashing through the scrub on the hill above us, and this big monster came charging towards us. There was a scramble to get out of his way.....these critters happily eat their own young, and anything else that looks like a tasty feed. If they can take down a buffalo or goat without raising a sweat, humans would be easy meat. And the rangers only carry a stick.
It was once we were out on the trail, trekking through the bush with a Ranger before and after our group, that we had a serious encounter. We were looking at a medium-sized female near her nest, when we heard a crashing through the scrub on the hill above us, and this big monster came charging towards us. There was a scramble to get out of his way.....these critters happily eat their own young, and anything else that looks like a tasty feed. If they can take down a buffalo or goat without raising a sweat, humans would be easy meat. And the rangers only carry a stick.
Keeping an eye open for hungry dragons. So that was our day out with the Dragons, and we happily sped back to town and the sanctuary of our own boats before another night out for dinner and socialising with the rally boat crews.
Off again in the morning, with some looking for the elusive Manta Rays to dive amongst, and some, like ourselves, just heading West.
Off again in the morning, with some looking for the elusive Manta Rays to dive amongst, and some, like ourselves, just heading West.
We were heading for the north coast of Komodo Island, the little bay of Batu Montjo, still within the Komodo National Park, and, we'd been warned, still with Dragons on the loose....they can swim, and were often seen on the beach. When we saw some movement in that direction, we thought we'd found a dragon but the binoculars revealed an innocent wild pig instead.
So it was more snorkelling and SUPping, again in beautiful clear water with good coral, and another session, along with a walk along the beach in the morning.
We'd been taking the advice published in some of the Cruising Guides, which have generally been pretty reliable. So we were heading for Were Bay on Sumbawa, which was supposedly the centre of the Wooden Boat building industry. We arrived in the afternoon, more-or-less in company with some of the other rally boats, being "Soul", "Kereru", and "Lusi".
The anchorage was quite chaotic....rolly, busy with local fishing boats. "Soul" became entangled with a squid boat later in the day, and with the other boat, scarpered off into the night, leaving us behind along with "Kereru".
Richard and I went ashore to sniff out the wooden boats and were quite disappointed to find just one, which looked like it had fallen into disrepair because it had been there so long.
So it was more snorkelling and SUPping, again in beautiful clear water with good coral, and another session, along with a walk along the beach in the morning.
We'd been taking the advice published in some of the Cruising Guides, which have generally been pretty reliable. So we were heading for Were Bay on Sumbawa, which was supposedly the centre of the Wooden Boat building industry. We arrived in the afternoon, more-or-less in company with some of the other rally boats, being "Soul", "Kereru", and "Lusi".
The anchorage was quite chaotic....rolly, busy with local fishing boats. "Soul" became entangled with a squid boat later in the day, and with the other boat, scarpered off into the night, leaving us behind along with "Kereru".
Richard and I went ashore to sniff out the wooden boats and were quite disappointed to find just one, which looked like it had fallen into disrepair because it had been there so long.
Were Bay squid boat lying in wait to get tangled up with a yacht.
What's left of the local boat-building industry. Note the kid playing with the model in the background. So we didn't find much in the way of big wooden Phinisis being built, but what we DID find was dozens of kids playing in the water with their model boats. Incredibly efficient little craft that sailed beautifully, and it looked like every kid in town had one and sailed every day.
The boats were pretty much replicas of what we see out offshore every day. Simple, stable canoes with outriggers.
That was all quite encouraging, but not quite what we were expecting.
Richard and I had a wander around the village, got growled at by a grumpy old lady for wearing shorts (when most of the kids on the beach were stark naked) and dinghied back out to our boats for the night.
After dark, we drifted dangerously close to one of the squid boats and spent an uncomfortable hour or so sitting on the bow waiting to fend off from the spider-like outrigger system. But fortunately, crews started arriving, smoky diesels fired up, and the squid boats headed out to sea, all lights blazing. We were quick to up-anchor in the morning when they started heading back in....
The boats were pretty much replicas of what we see out offshore every day. Simple, stable canoes with outriggers.
That was all quite encouraging, but not quite what we were expecting.
Richard and I had a wander around the village, got growled at by a grumpy old lady for wearing shorts (when most of the kids on the beach were stark naked) and dinghied back out to our boats for the night.
After dark, we drifted dangerously close to one of the squid boats and spent an uncomfortable hour or so sitting on the bow waiting to fend off from the spider-like outrigger system. But fortunately, crews started arriving, smoky diesels fired up, and the squid boats headed out to sea, all lights blazing. We were quick to up-anchor in the morning when they started heading back in....
 |  (Above) The token wooden boat construction project, and (at left) El Gato and a squid boat eyeing each other off. |
Kid Central in Were Bay. Future boatbuilders and fishermen.
A fine little craft.
We were planning an overnighter at the anchorage at Kilo, but we had a surprising amount of wind early in the morning and were making great speed, so went straight through to the bay at Kananga, by ourselves, and had a superbly calm, peaceful night there. Didn't need to go ashore, and headed for Moyo in the morning. Which was an interesting run.
Winds were light, and I hoisted the big gennaker, our light wind sail, which was terrific. For awhile, anyway. As the wind began to pick up from a happy ten knots to a happy 15 knots, everything was going swimmingly. I even photographed and "Instagrammed" a pic of the sail, set perfectly. But then a minute or so later, the wind picked up to 20 knots, and I mentioned to Mary that I was getting a bit concerned that we were flying along just a little too well....something might break.....and a few seconds later....25 knots of wind....boat charging along at 9.5 knots......BANG! Something DID break! The thing wot holds the sail up. (actually, some webbing that holds the sail up....the stitching fell apart.) So we headed the boat around downwind and wrestled in my favourite sail, tying it down on deck because by now the katabatic wind was blowing consistent high 20's. This was all a bit distressing of course....we hadn't seen any wind stronger than 5-10 knots for weeks, and had become so complacent that we hadn't even been doing weather checks before heading out. Not that these localised katabatic blasts show up on our weather GRIB charts anyway.
Eventually we made it into the anchorage at Moyo, now in 30 knot winds, and struggled to bundle up the giant big sail on the deck and stash it in a cabin below. Furling it or flaking it neatly wasn't an option, we just squeezed it all together and bundled it out of the way for the night. It took up most of the spare cabin.
Winds were light, and I hoisted the big gennaker, our light wind sail, which was terrific. For awhile, anyway. As the wind began to pick up from a happy ten knots to a happy 15 knots, everything was going swimmingly. I even photographed and "Instagrammed" a pic of the sail, set perfectly. But then a minute or so later, the wind picked up to 20 knots, and I mentioned to Mary that I was getting a bit concerned that we were flying along just a little too well....something might break.....and a few seconds later....25 knots of wind....boat charging along at 9.5 knots......BANG! Something DID break! The thing wot holds the sail up. (actually, some webbing that holds the sail up....the stitching fell apart.) So we headed the boat around downwind and wrestled in my favourite sail, tying it down on deck because by now the katabatic wind was blowing consistent high 20's. This was all a bit distressing of course....we hadn't seen any wind stronger than 5-10 knots for weeks, and had become so complacent that we hadn't even been doing weather checks before heading out. Not that these localised katabatic blasts show up on our weather GRIB charts anyway.
Eventually we made it into the anchorage at Moyo, now in 30 knot winds, and struggled to bundle up the giant big sail on the deck and stash it in a cabin below. Furling it or flaking it neatly wasn't an option, we just squeezed it all together and bundled it out of the way for the night. It took up most of the spare cabin.
 Happy sail. |  Not happy sail. |
Deb preparing to make the sail happy again. Onwards again in the morning, with the big Gennaker awkwardly stowed away, across the Alas Strait and our first stop on the island of Lombok, anchoring at Gili Lawang. We were offshore from what looked to be a prison, but turned out to be a high-volume pearl farm.
During the late afternoon and early evening, we had an influx of rally boats....Matilda, Wirraway, Coomera, Hybreasail, Argonaut and Brahminy.
We were all off in the morning in very light winds and motored, all in a line, along the north coast of Lombok towards the fabled marina at Medana Bay. The nasty katabatic wind from a few days before revisited us from the West as we approached the harbour, just to make the anchoring amongst dozens of rally boats that little bit more challenging.
But we were soon settled and joined the best part of the entire fleet, all telling lies in the bar over cocktails and cold Bintangs.
During the late afternoon and early evening, we had an influx of rally boats....Matilda, Wirraway, Coomera, Hybreasail, Argonaut and Brahminy.
We were all off in the morning in very light winds and motored, all in a line, along the north coast of Lombok towards the fabled marina at Medana Bay. The nasty katabatic wind from a few days before revisited us from the West as we approached the harbour, just to make the anchoring amongst dozens of rally boats that little bit more challenging.
But we were soon settled and joined the best part of the entire fleet, all telling lies in the bar over cocktails and cold Bintangs.
"Wirraway" leads "Matilda" across the top of Lombok. The sails look nice but the diesels are doing all the work.
The following one was a day off for most crews, and with those from Wirraway and Afar IV we shared a car and driver and toured Lombok a little. Friendly monkeys by the mountain roadside, temples (lots of temples), pottery shops, a traditional lunch and finally a drive through Sengiggi added up to a big day out. Especially as we were also preparing for the run to Bali the next morning, across the notoriously sketchy Lombok Strait.
The ponies have a tough life on Lombok.
The monkeys get it easy. This one had no trouble with the screw cap, either.
On the Tourist trail with Catherine, John, Mary, Bev and Gary
Mary's traditional chicken lunch was a little too traditional. The chicken head didnt have much meat on it. It was a bit frustrating being in Lombok for such a short time, but we were at the mercy of the Indonesian Immigration officials as our visas were due to expire in a few days. So we had to be in Lovina to start that process in motion.
We made an early start from Medana Bay and had a stiff breeze on the beam all the way across the strait....a genuine, cracking sail in fact, both sails reefed, up until we'd completed the crossing and followed the north coast of Bali with a nasty current and following wind against it.
Then it was around the top and a protected motor into the bay at Lovina, a north coast backwater without all the frenzy of the Kuta Beach end of the island.
Over the next few days we started work on the visas, Deb and Bruce from Matilda stitched up our gennaker, Simon from Micha helped us with a dodgy anchor winch switch and life became very relaxing in the comfort and familiarity of our cosy old friend, Bali. (Which we first visited back in 1974).
We made an early start from Medana Bay and had a stiff breeze on the beam all the way across the strait....a genuine, cracking sail in fact, both sails reefed, up until we'd completed the crossing and followed the north coast of Bali with a nasty current and following wind against it.
Then it was around the top and a protected motor into the bay at Lovina, a north coast backwater without all the frenzy of the Kuta Beach end of the island.
Over the next few days we started work on the visas, Deb and Bruce from Matilda stitched up our gennaker, Simon from Micha helped us with a dodgy anchor winch switch and life became very relaxing in the comfort and familiarity of our cosy old friend, Bali. (Which we first visited back in 1974).
Welcome to Bali! We quickly slotted into the rythm of the island and actually appreciated the peace of Lovina, a welcome respite from the rally schedule, and, despite there being no surf, a welcome change from the hustle and madness of the Kuta end.
I had organised for some spare generator parts to be shipped to the Rip Curl office at Kuta, so shared a car and driver to head down there for the day and pick up my bits, while Bruce and Deb stayed for a few days.
We stopped at a coffee plantation on the way down, which was an interesting diversion.
I had organised for some spare generator parts to be shipped to the Rip Curl office at Kuta, so shared a car and driver to head down there for the day and pick up my bits, while Bruce and Deb stayed for a few days.
We stopped at a coffee plantation on the way down, which was an interesting diversion.
Bruce and Deb taste-testing the offerings at the Coffee Palace.
 Like the weasels in VietNam, these Luwaks are force-fed coffee beans so that they can crap 'em out and sell the resulting product for squillions. |  The roasting process that the tourists get to see. This lovely lady starts pounding the beans when visitors come. Nobody explained exactly why. |
The Sail2Indonesia rally has been a great social event. We've all made lots of new friends and everybody helps each other out, shares meals, drinks, dinghy rides and everything else, so a few of us decided to join in for a Roast Suckling Pig dinner, a Bali speciality. The expected dozen or so starters turned into over 35 starters, and the suckling pig turned into a full sized porker, so that was a classic night ashore with a few sore tummies afterwards.
It was about this time that we decided to take a bit of a break from the rally schedule, which has been pretty tight, especially when visa extensions are taken into consideration. So, rather than have a rushed trip to Borneo and back to quickly see the Orangutans up the jungly river, we decided to ease the pressure, skip a leg or to, and continue west towards Sumatra, our next visa renewal stop, and eventually, Singapore.
Which meant that I could go surfing for a few days, Mary could luxuriate in swimming pools and have a few days amongst the shops at Kuta, and we could consider bringing one of our friends aboard to help us sail through a few of the night passages that we had ahead of us.
I got in early with a trip to Medewi, where I surfed tons of waves on a fat, roly-poly left hand point break that's just made for a longboard....which just happens to be the only surfboard on the boat. The only downside to that is that the water's absolutely filthy there, and of course, I picked up an ear infection. But that's what antibiotics are for...
It was about this time that we decided to take a bit of a break from the rally schedule, which has been pretty tight, especially when visa extensions are taken into consideration. So, rather than have a rushed trip to Borneo and back to quickly see the Orangutans up the jungly river, we decided to ease the pressure, skip a leg or to, and continue west towards Sumatra, our next visa renewal stop, and eventually, Singapore.
Which meant that I could go surfing for a few days, Mary could luxuriate in swimming pools and have a few days amongst the shops at Kuta, and we could consider bringing one of our friends aboard to help us sail through a few of the night passages that we had ahead of us.
I got in early with a trip to Medewi, where I surfed tons of waves on a fat, roly-poly left hand point break that's just made for a longboard....which just happens to be the only surfboard on the boat. The only downside to that is that the water's absolutely filthy there, and of course, I picked up an ear infection. But that's what antibiotics are for...
Medewi looking fine.
And we thought that launching the dinghy off the beach was difficult....these guys do this every day.
So that just about brings us to today, when I'm down in the hull finishing off the blog, Mary's having a little holiday at Kuta, and old mate Graham Symonds is flying in tomorow to jon the crew. We'll be off in a couple of days, through the Bali Sea and out into the Java Sea. Meanwhile, Bali's still Bali....
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