After an afternoon siesta we felt somewhat revived and caught up with the other yachts. We enjoyed Southern Star’s hospitality and were able to reciprocate by crewing for them to get their boat fuelled at the town dock. This dilapidated and dirty concrete, yacht-eating wharf was approached with great trepidation but we managed a damage-free tie up. Prolonged negotiations lasting several hours failed to result in any diesel appearing so we returned to the anchorage. The next morning we tried again and this time the diesel appeared, only to be withheld by officialdom for some hours. Lots of men in various uniforms stood around smoking and endlessly examining the sundry yacht documents. Finally, some invisible signal was sent and the diesel flowed. We dumped the first flush as it was full of gunge. Southern Star required about 2.5 tonnes of diesel whilst our needs were more modest at 240 litres. For us it was jerry jugs in the dinghy back to the boat for manual filling. The town of Kalabahi is remarkably dirty with canals full of litter and patrolled by pigs. The canals drain into the harbour so there is a continual stream of garbage (and worse) floating around. However, on the plus side, the town has actual formed sidewalks so you don’t get run over, and nor do you break your ankles. There is an excellent produce market (Pasar Kadela) and Andrea had a guided tour of the offerings. The guide then gave Andrea a cooking class and she learned to make a real sambal, cook local mustard greens and water spinach, and how to add “red” onion (shallots), “white” onions (garlic), chilli and chicken stock to all dishes. In large quantities. Dissapointingly, not a single gram of the classic spices of the area were used. Later we had lunch at the outstanding nearby restaurant Resto Mama’s. Actually it is the only restaurant in town. It served excellent meals at very cheap prices. It was cool and breezy.
To get around, one rides in small people mover vans with gaudy decorations and subwoofers that liquefy your intestines, once you are aboard. One should wear a hat to avoid catching lice from the carpet which lines the ceiling of these vans. Alternatively, one can ride pillion on one of the many scooters. Some of our group actually hired scooters for a self drive day tour, and nobody was injured thank goodness. Obtaining petrol however was problematic as there seems to have been a drought of this substance on Alor. Banks were available for financial needs.
The fiord leading to Kalabahi produces a 15 knot westerly seabreeze during the day and is quite reminiscent of Marlborough Sounds in that regard. At night the breeze shuts off completely and the anchorage is still. Insects were not a major issue. Pesky children in dugout canoes were.
Much to our delight we found a dive outfit in town run by a chap from the former East Germany. For just over 1 million rupiah (A$100) we had two nice dives on steep coral walls, and freshly cooked trevally for lunch. Sadly, large fish on the reefs seem to be virtually non-existent and the bamboo fish traps are full of tiny Damsel fish and other species.
Our final night in port was made enjoyable by an official reception at the function centre, given by the Regent of Alor. This rank equates to mayor on steroids I think. We were entertained by traditional dancers and had some good food. They gave us information handouts which would have been very useful at the beginning of our stay. Such is the organisational capability of this country. The speech by the Regent referred to beautiful Alor, like Heaven on Earth. The group experience really was counter to this description, but we dutifully applauded.