11/27/2009

Boatyard Batu Maung, Penang, Malaysia

Hi Everyone,

  I’m sure you’ll all be eating some variation of turkey and stuffing.  Last night we ate with E and P on Labarque.  E made a wonderful dish of chicken, red lentils, cilantro, mint leaves, yogurt and other wonderful spices.  We ate it all.  I made a partly frozen dessert of canned chocolate sweetened condensed milk, a box of cream, some cold milk, a glob of Kaya and some ice cubes whirred all together in our blender and froze for 6 hours.  It really needs at least 10 hours, I think, so I’ll try it again.  We sort of drank it!  Then we watched the No 1 Ladies Detective Agency which they had on CD.  Good movie. Good meal.   Today E’s taking me on a tour of George Town while Randal goes to hardware and electrical shops and P works on Labarque. 

This fellow is safe from any dinner plate.

As a matter of fact E and I feed him.  E calls it a cockerel, I call him a rooster.  He is quite pretty and spends part of his day near Labarque on these boat stands.  He sleeps on a roof near the yard showers and toilets.  The other morning I tried to feed him crumbled crackers while the cat looked on. He was definitely more afraid of me, though sometimes he isn’t and just waits for me to finish getting his crackers ready.   The rooster is larger than the cat but the dogs also leave him alone.  He is very pretty and not mean like some roosters I have known.  The one in the chicken house at the group home in New Hampshire where I worked in the early 70s was very mean.  I went in with a big stick when I collected the eggs. 

Ru

DoraMac

Hi Everyone,

Randal and I are both pooped.  Randal from all the boat work he is doing and me from the yesterday’s all day trip to George Town and chores today.  Tomorrow we’ll go back to the local public market, a 45 minute walk from the yard.  Hopefully I’ll walk off some of the George Town snacks! 

“Thosai and Cheese Naan”

Yesterday we made another journey into George Town. (I spell it with two words because that’s what’s on the local map and local street signs.) Five of us went: P and E, Randal, me and the Frenchman Nicholas. We left the yard about 7:15 am just as it was getting light. You have to hike up a hefty hill and then walk down the other side to leave the yard and get to the main road. It’s not at all bad in the cool of the morning when your pack is empty. In the late afternoon with a full pack and an additional full canvas carrying bag (advertising the wonderfulness of libraries,) and, trying to hold an umbrella, it’s almost all bad! I say almost because there was no thunder and lightning, just a steady light rain. My goal was to not only get up the hill as dry as possible, but also to avoid squishing the wonderful bread I’d bought in town. (And I used to dread unloading my car under the carport after a trip to Kroger.)

We left early morning for two reasons: more buses run in the morning and we could have time for a second breakfast in town before the shops opened. We caught, (ran for,)  the bus, which was coming along just as we got to the street; and then we sat for about 90 minutes as the bus route went round Robin’s barn to get to town. The bus is clean, comfortable and air conditioned (I got cold) so it isn’t bad, just long. At least we had seats and finally did get to George Town.

Finally off the bus, our first stop was a bright green and yellow place serving Indian food. Indian food has great breakfast foods! We had thosai, a wonderful slightly fermented rice pancake. E and I had plain and the guys had egg.

It was crispy and wonderful and came with dipping sauces varying in degrees of heat from mild to too spicy for me for breakfast. One sauce had a yogurt base and I stuck to that. There were 4 dipping options, so even plain is never plain!

We almost never eat indoors anymore. Tea and coffee comes in glass mugs.

When I started to write this I wasn’t sure what the pancake was called but remembered P and E calling it something like “toesee.” I looked up rice pancake and figured it out. I could have asked E but that would have involved climbing down out of the boat and then climbing back up the boat. They are just across our bow but weren’t visible for me to call over to them. “There are various ways of transliterating dosa: dhosha, dosay, dosai, dhosai, tosai, thosai, or dvashi. In different countries it is spelled in different manners; for example, in Malaysia and Singapore it is spelled thosai, because of the different way in which Tamil is transliterated in South-East Asia.” Wikipedia.

I guess they are all close enough so if you just say some version, even “toesee” you’ll be understood. I have a hard time learning Bahasa Malaysia, but thosai I’ll remember.

After breakfast the guys went one way and I went with E who knows George Town well and is a great guide.  I had a few things to find as did she, and she also had a dentist appointment a bus ride distance from historic George Town. Randal went off with P and Nicholas to chandlers and hardware stores. P needed 26 kilo of sand (57.2 lbs) so he and Randal would taxi home. I don’t remember every stop E and I made, there were many! but it was about 2 pm when we had another snack, this time cheese naan with ice water with lime. We ate at the restaurant where I’d taken the photos of the bread oven. E and I each ordered a cheese naan and it was an entire piece of naan with buttery cheese lightly melted on top. The pieces looked, and were huge, and there was none left when we finished. Interestingly you get different foods at different times of the day. Thosai in the morning and naan in the afternoon. Each needs the oven and I guess in not the same way. I like all of the different options so it doesn’t matter to me. Randal likes the naan best so he is always sorry there’s none for breakfast. When Randal was in the hospital in China for his food poisoning I went looking for rice for his breakfast but the food stalls were only selling noodles. He was tired of noodles, but that’s what he got because that’s all there was until later in the day. Maybe same reason? At least that morning in Jingan.

E told me what this was; I don’t remember.  But its fragrance says India and it masks the smells from the drains. You see it on the sidewalk in front of shops.

I was ready to walk off my pancake and there were chores to do, so off we went………

Marina office, bus terminal, dentist, bus, small shop that sells pants E likes, hand towel shop, paint shop, electrical shop, European style Rainbow Bakery for great whole grain bread. (They also sell bagels and what Americans call English muffins though the British don’t.) art gallery, art supply shop, rag shop, pharmacy, carpet shop for small, cheap mats because of boat yard grit, and for fun, a really great thrift shop that has prices that even beat my 6.90 ringgit shirt. The thrift shop is a charity so I’m going, finally, through all of my stuff and, if I don’t love it, it’s going into the big bag for the thrift shop. And if it’s too small. I tried on my bought in China jeans shorts and it was sad. I could almost get them on unbutton in China and now they’re too snug! All of the wonderful and interesting food is taking a toll! Lots of passages and rally dinners don’t help either. Soon we’ll weigh 35 tons.

The Rag shop: I bought three of the small, colorful bundles. They cost very little but filled my backpack.

“Antiques” if you needed those too. E just looked, I just bought rags.

At this very large renovated shophouse  you could buy anything needed for any Hindu or Chinese custom or celebration! They also sold aromatic candles that E uses against mosquitoes.

Three shop houses had been combined to make this very large store that went up three floors.

Lions and tigers and dragons, oh my!

On the top floor were the statues with missing hands, or had dings or nobody wanted them for another reason. A tangle of lamps too. Not sure where things went after the 3rd floor.

It was a wonderful building with wood floors and stairs. Thankfully many of the old shop houses are being renovated rather than demolished. I really made that up about the 3rd floor stuff.

Walkways in front of the shop houses are like covered arcades. Cool in the sun and dry in the rain.

A little before 4 pm we walked back to the bus terminal to catch the 307 “rapid” bus back to the boat yard. First we had to sit and wait for the bus, and then it wasn’t really all that “rapid.” It took us about an hour to get back to Batu Maung where the boat yard is located. That was a half hour faster than the 302 local but 40 minutes longer than a taxi. Just as we got close to Batu Maung it started to rain. But, as I said earlier, it could have been worse. Rain is starting to come less often and not so fierce. It is the time for the dry season which is why kids have these few months off from school.

Today was a boat work and chores day. Randal is getting lots done but is also getting pooped. It’s tiring just climbing up and down the stairs to get on and off the boat. Tomorrow E and Randal and I will walk to the local public market for veggies. ( P will keep sanding Labarque’s hull which is why he needed all that sand.) We’ll also stop at the small stainless steel factory: Labarque needs some work done and Randal has some questions. I want more veggies so I’ll stop eating bread and cookies!

Ru

DoraMac

ps Is it baseball season yet?

Hi Everyone,

I don’t know if I used to be braver or just oblivious to possible catastrophe. Car ownership, home ownership, now boat ownership, and as I’ve gotten older, the possibility of broken bones if I fell really hard off a large horse have eliminated much of the bliss of ignorance; and bravery hasn’t replaced it. In the past week or so I’ve found myself saying, “I’m not brave enough for this.” When we had that fish net anchor mess last week and again yesterday when we were trying to get DoraMac into the tiny concrete slip at the boat yard, I just had to wonder about those cruisers who see all of this as “just a part of cruising.”

First, let me say, it all turned out fine with not a scratch on man or boat. (As the fish net mess did too.) But while it was happening I couldn’t imagine anything other than “possible disaster.” (I may have mentioned in earlier emails that my mother used to call me “Calamity Jane” because I was a predictor of doom.) We’d had the boat pulled successfully once in China, but things do happen. And with our experiences lately, I really do believe “things do happen”. They, luckily, just don’t happen so often or so awfully that you want to pack it up and go home. Randal continually seems to be able to deal with whatever happens and the more I see that, the less really worried I get. But controlling a 34 ton boat against the forces of wind and current is truly difficult.

Docking a boat at a marina or boat yard involves throwing long, heavy lines (ropes) to someone, or better, several someones, standing on the dock to catch them. You put rubber fenders out on the side that will come close to the dock to protect the boat. I’m not great at throwing our lines, though I am getting better. At a marina when the weather is very calm and there is no wind, it’s not so bad. But during our docking procedure at the boat yard I knew that there would be no room for error so suggested that the boat yard have someone on our boat to throw the lines. I’m glad I did for 2 reasons. One, it was problematic and our helper had to climb on the boat railing to be able to throw the lines to the guys on the dock, and two, even he missed once and they missed once. If I had done it, Randal would have been embarrassed by his inept crew member. To top it off, the slip cleat had broken and several men who weighed maybe a combined 500 lbs were trying to play tug of war with a 34 ton boat that had to back away to move into position. Did not work as they kept having to drop the line. Finally a temporary cleat was rigged and that managed to hold the line. I have no photos because I was poised, fender in hand to place said fender between DoraMac and the concrete slip if we came close enough to make contact and damage the hull. I also, was in on the line throwing act and luckily got it right the first time. By then we were close enough to the slip and the men there caught my throw which was dead on! Fear is a strong motivator!!

Randal had to back the boat into this concrete slip which is about 22 to 24 ft wide. DoraMac is almost 15 feet wide. That’s about 3 ½ feet to spare per side. You have to do it right. At a marina dock, the fenders can protect the boat from damage. But the sides of this concrete slip are much higher where fenders won’t really work, so men were holding large sheets of Styrofoam between the boat and the slip walls. I walked along with a fender to use if we needed extra protection.

The concrete slip. Backing a boat is very different than backing a car. The wind and current keep the boat moving no matter where you are trying to make it go. That’s why you need the lines and cleats to hold it from moving with the wind. The really icky times are when you share a slip at a marina and the wind can blow you into the boat that’s already there. Then it’s my job to hold a fender between the two boats if necessary. Luckily so far it hasn’t been necessary.

We’re securely in the slip. The travel lift is the contraption on wheels.

Once you are securely in the slip they roll out the travel lift which is a huge contraption that has two slings which go under the hull forward and aft.

Here we are out of the water. Can you see the two straps under the keel?

We had to loosen mast stays and lower aerials, but it all worked and there were no dings anywhere. The boat yard guys knew their job and friends Patrick and Elizabeth helped and gave us advice on the mast stays.

Elizabeth and Patrick sometimes shortened in my emails to E and P or P and E.

This is the boat yard man who came on DoraMac to throw the lines. I’m taller and weigh more: but he is stronger and knows more! And I wouldn’t have climbed onto the railing to throw the line; at least not onto the top rail. Maybe the middle rail. Falling into the water could get you squished between the boat and the concrete dock.

When he first came aboard he asked for a photo of the boat. We didn’t have one handy at that really busy time. I thought he just wanted one to keep as a reminder of the boats he helps “land.” When we were all finished I told him I’d get him a photo for him. Later P and E said that he wanted a photo to see the bottom of the boat to help with the landing and lifting!

Randal and Elizabeth looking at the crusty propeller and the dirty rudder and hull.

The ding in the orange might be part of the leftovers from the fishing net mess. Randal isn’t sure. The whole net mess was wrapped around the propeller and shaft. It’s not a deep dive to get to the propeller, but maneuvering around with a tank that can get caught places ….

Crusty zincs needed to be cleaned and replaced

Our bow thruster propeller needed attention too and the round metal piece in the center will be replaced.

Power washing the green slime off the bottom.

Randal took a turn; a reminder of his old Roanoke Wreck Repair days.

Randal was washing off, our peeling off white water line marker. He’s going to paint one on.

The expert travel lift driver.

The travel lift hoisted us out of the water and drove us over to our parking space bow to bow with P and E’s boat, Lebarque

Bow to bow with Lebarque. It was close enough to be a bit scary to watch.

Though the boats are very steady on their rests, we all have the sensation that we are rolling a bit.

Remember the crusty propeller and the slime green bottom? That’s Randal’s smiling face you see in the clean, shiny propeller arm! Soon the whole thing will look like that. Randal says know one would know what the reflection is, but I think so.

The boat yard is doing some of the work and Randal is doing some of the work. Some confusion with the estimate prompted that. Luckily Randal can do lots of the work himself. P and E are doing much of their own boat work and so are the Olssons on Blue Marlin.

This is how we get off the boat.

We climb down to the swim platform and then down the swim ladder and then step onto the big barrel holding on to the swim ladder and then, still holding on reach with my toe as far as I can until I touch the big block of wood. In my next life, as well as knowing my right from my left, I’m going to be taller.

Nights in the boat yard are very quiet except for the occassional dog quarrel. The dogs are very friendly but they stake out their claims to visiting cruisers and woe be to the dog who tries to get some attention from a cruiser who has already been claimed. Small brown dog has claimed our row of boats which includes Lebarque and now DoraMac. She fiercely guards her territory from the other female dogs but reluctantly allows her male friend to hang around and even get an occassional pat on the head. This morning they both had our left over, very picked over, Sungei Rengit pork ribs bones. She got more because he was afraid of what I might be throwing. Tomorrow they’ll get some really old biscuits that Randal had made. I will look for dog treats when we go to George Town tomorrow. E and P have chores and so do we so we’ll all take the bus in early and depending on who’s done when, we’ll share a taxi coming home. Patrick needs 100 lbs of sand for his sand blaster; not something you take on the bus.

So that’s that.

Ruth Johnson

Doramac