Sail Across the Equator
Life Aboard Four Friends
Life aboard Four Friends was pretty interesting. During our sailing expeditions, our time was divided between watch duty and moments of respite, each offering its own unique flavour to our seafaring adventures.
Watch duty, a three-hour stint, placed students at the helm in the wheelhouse. Steering the boat proved an art, distinct from guiding a car. The ship’s response to the wheel’s turn held a delayed elegance, demanding a nuanced touch. The key lay in gradual adjustments, fixating on a distant point, and navigating the nuances of wind and currents. Yet, what could have been a monotonous task was always illuminated by the presence of friends and Captain Blake, fostering deep conversations that danced with the ocean’s melodies. On the side of the wheelhouse, I frequently sought solace for a short nap, cradled by the side railing, surrendering to the tranquil rhythm of the boat’s gentle sway.
During off-watch hours, most of us would take the time to do our laundry. Our minimalistic packing, with only five to six sets of clothing for a twelve-day journey, dictated the need for onboard laundry. The first step involved throwing a bucket tethered with a rope over the railing into the expanse of the ocean. We’d swing the bucket left and right in a pendulum-like motion, and with precision, plunge the bucket into the depths, ensuring a swift retrieval before the currents could snatch it away. Back on the deck, the bucket transformed into our makeshift washing machine. Clothes, immersed in the salty sweater, were rigorously scrubbed and soaked. We repeated the process, soaking and rinsing our clothes in buckets and buckets of fresh seawater. Once cleansed, the dripping garments found their place on the railings, pegged securely against the ocean breeze. In the midst of our seafaring life, this simple yet essential task brought a touch of domesticity to the vast expanse of the open sea.
Knot-tying sessions, led by our experienced senior, Xi Yuan, added an educational dimension to our days on board. Learning to tie essential knots, like the cleat hitch and bowline, became a shared pursuit. Knows were practised with the ropes on deck, each mastered knot met with a nod of approval – a small triumph etched into the seafaring routine. Galley duties, synonymous with dishwashing, unveiled a communal effort after every meal. Dishes met seawater baths on the deck or in the galley, where the rhythm of washing dishes echoed the seascape that surrounded us. Amidst these duties, afternoon naps became cherished interludes. Four Friends, generously equipped with spaces to rest, offered moments of relaxation against the scenery of the vast blue ocean.
Life aboard Four Friends helped me appreciate the simplicity and beauty of life. It served as a reminder for me to slow down and savour the natural wonders around me – the beautiful sunsets and sunrises, the sun, the ocean, and the people.
An Island With Only 40 Villagers
Under the morning sun’s gentle embrace, we bid farewell to the warmth of Pulau Penuh’s hospitality, thanking the village chief, Ibu Mariana, and her family, for their generosity. The morning air was filled with a sense of renewal as we boarded Four Friends, our vessel now back afloat, a testament to nature’s timely intervention during the high tide at around 5am. My belongings packed, I eagerly transitioned to Rona (they lacked a student translator on board, thus the transition), a slightly smaller boat that promised a different charm.
Rona welcomed me with its intimate yet grand interior, a contrast to the bustling nature of Four Friends. Assisted by En Ci’s thoughtful tour, I swiftly settled into the rhythm of life on this vessel. Our journey veered southeast towards Pulau Gojong, and as the sun reached its zenith, the island unfolded before us.
Upon reaching Pulau Gojong, the crew ferried us to the pristine shores on a dinghy. The initial view revealed a sparsely populated landscape, with the sun casting a radiant glow on the bare sand. Seeking refuge from the blazing sun, we ventured into the shaded areas, embarking on an exploration that would soon unravel the island’s hidden treasures.
Wooden houses dotted the landscape, a small eagle in a birdcage capturing our attention. Further ahead, men rested beneath the shelter of coconut trees. Quenching our thirst with coconuts, we engaged in conversation with the islanders. Language barriers melted away as we conversed using simple Malay phrases, revealing a community of only 40 villagers. Surprisingly, an additional 100 individuals, mainly fishermen from other islands, sought refuge on Pulau Gojong, drawn by the abundance of marine life. These temporary inhabitants lived on their vessels and frequented the island for work.
As we meandered through the island, a sudden drizzle prompted us to seek shelter in a nearby mosque, where we encountered Pak Yusob, the village head, who happened to be on his way home. His kindness extended to guiding us around the island post-drizzle. As we traversed the island on foot, a surprising realisation dawned upon us – the island’s diminutive size revealed itself. A leisurely stroll from one end to the other consumed a mere 10 minutes, highlighting the intimate scale of Pulau Gojong. With each step, we could clearly see the sea!
The island’s challenges unfolded through our conversations with Pak Yusob. The absence of a school due to a shortage of teachers, the need for mosque refurbishment as well as lamp repairs, and the struggles to gain attention for these issues painted a somber picture. The political intricacies, intertwined with the island’s leadership dynamics, created hurdles in addressing the villagers’ concerns.
In the intricate web of Pulau Gojong’s politics, Ibu Mariana, our gracious host during the grounding of Four Friends, emerged as a central figure in Pak Yusob’s narrative. Holding the position of the head for both this village and neighbouring islands, her influence reached far and wide. However, the villagers’ deliberate choice not to appoint her as the leader of their leader seemed to set off a cascade of consequences, resulting in their pleas going unanswered and crucial projects lingering in a state of uncertainty for more than two years. The threads of politics intertwined with daily life, revealing the complexity of relationships and decisions that echoed across the shores of Pulau Gojong.
Pak Yusob, elected for his academic background, shared insights into the villagers’ lives. Fishing was their primary occupation, with three distinct languages spoken among them: Melayu and two variations of Suka Laut, a sea language distinct from Melayu. The challenges of collecting fees from visiting ships from nearby islands underscored the island’s economic struggles. Despite having a payment system, it proved ineffective in ensuring full remittance.
Nonetheless, our presence brought palpable joy to Pak Yusob, a rare occurrence of visitors like us. He recounted previous encounters with enthusiasm, his anecdotes weaving a narrative of isolation on this remote island. As a token of appreciation, he gifted us intricately beautiful shells, which are similar to the ‘Gong Gongs’ we ate the night before in Ibu Mariana’s house.
The island’s charm extended to its beach, adorned with these captivating shells. A vibrant afternoon unfolded as we immersed ourselves in the crystalline waters, a welcome respite from the island’s heat. Pulau Gojong, though small, radiated beauty and simplicity, leaving an indelible mark on our journey. The lively scenes at its shores echoed with laughter and gratitude, a testament to the unforeseen joys discovered in the heart of isolation.
The Wheelhouse
In the rhythmic dance of the sea, I unearthed an unexpected haven aboard Four Friends – the wheelhouse. The boat’s layout starts from the expansive deck to the snug deckhouse below, and rises to the wheelhouse where Captain Blake navigated our seafaring adventures.
The wheelhouse, an intimate retreat, held a profound allure. Captain’s bedtime spot was the cushioned bench, in which his nightly ritual involved transforming the bench into a celestial haven. Wrapped in a big blue blanket with delicate white florals, he’d cocoon himself, leaving only a few tufts of unruly white hair visible. Before drifting off to sleep, he’d whimsically request, “Wake me up when it’s beer time!”
The wheelhouse became my sanctuary for many reasons. In its muted embrace, I sought solace when the laughter of my friends on the deck felt too lively for early repose. The abundant sleeping options, four in precise count, invited varied experiences. Whether beneath the Captain’s bench on the wooden seat, beside the side railing on either side of the wheelhouse, or reclined on the wooden floor, each choice bore its unique charm. Nights witnessed a ballet of transitions – drifting off to sleep under the night sky full of stars on the side, seeking refuge below Captain’s bench during rain, and sometimes opting for the stability of the floor when sailing through the night.
My first night sailing in the dark was memorable. At the side of the wheelhouse, the tranquility of anchored nights was disrupted. As currents challenged the ship’s stability, my grip on the side railing tightened. Half-asleep, I succumbed to the ship’s rocky embrace. Eventually, surrendering to the floor proved a soothing respite, where a sturdy wooden structure beside me cradled me through the boat’s undulating rhythm.
In the wheelhouse, profound sleep often plunged me into obliviousness. Once, I unwittingly played a part in an early morning comedy. Beside Captain and Fiona, my constant companion in the wheelhouse, an inadvertent episode unfolded. Fiona, dedicated to her morning yoga, set her alarm for 430am. Ignored in the depths of her slumber, it took a gruff “Jesus Christ!” from Captain to jolt Fiona awake. A fumbling search for her phone ensued, accompanied by another terse “SHUT IT OFF!” from the Captain. Xi Yuan, our amused witness, later recounted the hilarious scene, highlighting my obliviousness as I serenely slept through the commotion beside them.
The morning after, Fiona, a mix of embarrassment and laughter, extended her apologies to the Captain, creating a ripple of amusement among us. The wheelhouse, witness to my undisturbed sleep and unexpected humour, became my cherished retreat under the star-studded skies.
Bedtime Stories with Captain Blake
Under the nightly canvas of stars, Captain Blake would summon us to the deck near the bow after dinner. Mast lights off, we’d settle comfortably, absorbing his stories of adventures and life while admiring the star-studded sky occasionally adorned with shooting stars.
His voice, raspy but soothing against the canvas of the universe, led us through the celestial wonders. He’d point out the Orion Belt, trace paths to the South, and introduce us to Venus, Jupiter, and Sirius, which painted the night sky in hues unseen in our cityscape in Singapore. Some, weary from the day’s endeavours, succumbed to the gentle embrace of slumber.
One night, Captain delved into the enchanting story of how he met his wife. In the early days of Four Friends, she worked as an administrative presence, her beauty accentuated by her waist-length hair. Their shared diving expeditions, where her hair entwined in coral reefs, unveiled an unexpected love story. Captain recounted that in these moments, he was always there, diligently untangling her beautiful hair. It was a realisation that dawned upon him after her departure, the void she left becoming a silent whisper of affection, prompting him to arrange to meet her again.
These bedtime stories transformed the deck into a sanctuary. Gathered like grandchildren, we listened to Captain’s stories with rapt attention. His storytelling was an art, a symphony of vivid descriptions that transported us to distant lands and stirred emotions. As the stories resonated in the silence of the star-studded night, a profound gratitude seeped into my consciousness. It wasn’t just about stories, it was about the privilege of being alive in that moment, sharing stories with a seafaring grandfather figure. I felt the richness of life, illuminated by the stars, and the realisation that these moments were treasures to be cherished.
Credits: Travelogue by Lai Vi Yan, with photos generously shared by all the sailors who embarked on this unforgettable voyage.
It’s been two years since this journey, and gathering these stories and photos has brought back so many cherished memories. I miss every moment shared with all of you on this incredible voyage.