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7/9/2012 1:26 AM 

An old cargo captain once told me that every fisherman looks like a pirate.  That may or may not be true.  What I can tell you is that when a fishing trawler with better than fifteen men on board are motoring after you at full steam they damn well do look like pirates. 

In years gone by the Malacca Strait was one of the most dangerous in the world for passing traffic.  Pirates plied the narrow channel seizing ships of all types.  Those days are long gone, but the stories were playing on my adrenalin flushed mind and heart as the 40+ foot trawler pulled alongside close enough for a man to easily step across and aboard my vessel.

I was on a starboard tack and hard on the wind.  The trawler approached on my port side severely limiting my maneuverability unless I tacked through the wind.  Not the fastest maneuver for a singlehander.  What would you have done?  There is a fire arm on board.  Would you have wielded that steel barrel hoping to frighten them away?  Would a machete have been more suitable?  Do you simply hold course and see what this foreign vessel wants?

Make no mistake, I nearly filled my board shorts as they pulled alongside.  Not touching, just a fender width apart.  My weapon was safely tucked away far forward, untouched.  Fourteen rounds wouldn’t have been enough even if every shot was true.  Terrified, I put a smile on my face, waved, and said good afternoon in my best butchered Indonesian.  What I got back were many waves, smiles, and requests for beer and tobacco.

Now, 150 miles from land facing 15 Indo fisherman on one boat isn’t when I really want to start being stingy.  That said, no way I was going to go down below for a can or two of beer when this trawler is less that five feet from my leeward rail.  For an extremely tense five minutes they persisted in asking, and I steadily refused.  Towards the end the tension had faded a bit and through my smile I recall yelling, “you guy know your are scaring the f*ck*ng sh*t out of me”!  Fortunately, not one of them had a lick of English.

What finally closed the encounter was a simple photograph.  Just inside the companion way I keep a small point and shoot camera.  As I yelled, ‘photo”, I grabbed the camera.  Sitting on the side deck I snapped three pictures in quick succession.  Around the world people have always enjoyed their pictures being taken.  These hard men of the sea seemed no different.  Smiling for the photo the finally waved and veered away from Jargo.  I collapsed and sat for I don’t know how long.

What scared me most after the fact was that my fear could have led to a violent confrontation.  These men were not pirates.  They were simply boatmen and fisherman who like all the others I know enjoy a cold beer and their tobacco at sea. 

Early the next afternoon yet another boat pulled up alongside Jargo.  This was a much smaller, open fishing boat with only two crew.  They politely smiled and waved while maintaining a comfortable distance until they had my attention.  Then picking up a nice little tuna they motioned towards Jargo obviously wanting to come closer and even doing a little dance when I waved them over to the rail.

The two men were Indonesian again and wanted two beers.  They picked up a bucket with five fish, three small tuna and two small wahoo.  It was more than a fair trade and I dropped down below for the cold ones.  As they were about to go the dancing man rubbed his belly with an asking look.  I dropped down once again and came up with two apples and a snickers bar.  I couldn’t tell if they were more excited by the apples or the snickers, but we closed that trade very content on both sides.  This is all happening underway more than a 100 miles from land with tanker traffic passing on all sides.  My pirates turned out to be my best source of provisions at sea.

Another day later found me pulling onto the same mooring I’d tied onto the first time I discovered Pulau Weh.  This island and the small community on Ibioh Beach is unquestioningly one of the dearest places to me in the world.  Many of my local friends from my last visit were here to greet me on my arrival this time.  There can’t be more than a few hundred people around this small bungalow crusted bay which is much of its charm.  The water is beautifully cool and clear in contrast with the warm, dark skinned locals.

My favorite lady in the whole of Indonesia is the proprietor of  little place called O’lala.  I doubt she weighs 80 lbs, but you wouldn’t want to cross her.  She’s fought hard for her life in the Aceh province and has been a great friend to me while I’ve been here.  Each evening finds a few of the locals and a hand full of travelers dining in her small resto and filling the night with conversation and laughter.

One of the things I hope for when I find a place is to fall in with a good crew of people.  That seems to happen almost without exception here and my three day stay has already turned into ten days.  Sadly, as it happens with travelers, we all go our separate ways.  This crew has disbanded to pursue the horizons.  The time has come for me to do the same.

Tomorrow, I’ll let go the mooring and proceed South down the Sumatran Islands.  Once I pick up the SE Trades of the Southern hemisphere I’ll make way for Cocos Keeling if I can.  If not, it is direct to Rodriguez island for me.  Cheers from paradise.

Lee

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