At the risk of stating the obvious, laundry is a an important issue in long distance cruising. No matter how much clothing you bring (I, personally always overpack) at the end of the day, you need to do laundry. This had been an interesting experience, to say the least. At the high end of experiences, on our last stop in Australia (Thursday Island), we schlepped our stuff to onto the dinghy, onto the ferry to the town, found a laundromat, and DIY (did it ourselves). It was fine. (The pic of the day is Annie at the laundromat and you can see that it could be a laundromat anywhere in the world.) That was the last real laundromat we have seen. Since then, it is a matter of bringing it in (or having someone bring it in) and picking it up (or having someone pick it up). Who are these people? When one arrives at an anchorage, it is only a matter of minutes (or seconds) before the local entrepreneurs pull up to your boat offering any service you want: diesel, water, gasoline, laundry, souvenirs, veggies, and...laundry. Of course, you know there will be a 'surcharge' but, let's face it, it is usually worth the convenience, and they are in biz to make a profit. We are OK with that.

We've had all manner of experiences.

In Saumlaki, the word on the street was that they had several laundries which were good and inexpensive. We brought our bags in and got a reassurance that it would be ready by the afternoon. It was not. We went back at noon the next day....still not ready. We came back at 4, expecting to see our IKEA bags lined up. Well....the laundry was dry and folded, but they had to go to four different locations in this little shack to find it all. Was I skeptical? You bet! But...in fact, it was all present and accounted for. I don't actually count every item, although many rally mates do. I just check that my towels, sheets, and capris are all there, and if so, I assume they didn't steal my undies.

In Kalabahi, there was a fresh water spring piped down to the beach. Some of our rally mates brought their laundry to the beach and (along with the locals) washed it themselves, and then, hung it on the lifelines of the boat to dry. We did not. We brought it to one of the local agents who said he would get it done. It then took the better part of 2 days to locate it: "it is at Mr. Ahmet's" (the agent with whom we left it). NO. A rally mate called us at 9 PM to say he saw our IKEA bags at the dock in town, where we had never been. We could not go in to a strange dock at night, so, we took our chances. The next day, we went in to the town dock. NOT THERE. It is at the laundry. ("Yes, we had it but it's not here. We gave it to so and so.") "It's at the hotel" NOT. All of a sudden, someone said our IKEA bags labelled 'Moonbeam' were at the town dock. We went back there and...voila! They were there. They actually had done a fine job. They were clean, smelled good, and were neatly folded. All's well that ends well.

One day, as I was taking a clean T-shirt out of my drawer, I noticed a funny, familiar smell. It smelled like the air here often does: burning trash. I haven't written anything about the trash issue here but like on many islands in the world, they burn trash and it has a unique odor. It stands to reason that if the newly washed laundry is hung out to dry in a suburban back yard, it will have that nice fresh air smell. If it is hanging out in other conditions.... Fortunately, the rest of my clean clothes did not take on the smell.

And then...there was Labuanbajo. In town, down every alley, there are signs for laundry services. One of our rally mates had brought his stuff into town and highly recommended the 'blue building' where they had done his laundry. We decided that, logistically, it would be difficult to get the laundry in, walk quite a distance....., so when the 'boat boys' offered to take our laundry, Captain Ken readily agreed, although cheapo me was not happy with the negotiated price. That evening, the boat boys returned with our laundry, nicely folded. The bags felt heavier that I remembered. When I opened them, everything was soaking wet. I gave them back the bags and told them to return them the next day: DRY! The boat boys returned the next afternoon. Again, everything looked neatly folded. While Ken worked with them on cleaning the bottom of Moonbeam, I started to unpack. Most of the clothes were dry, except for a few items they had rolled up into little balls. As I started to hang the wet ones on the lifelines, they felt funny. And then, for some I inexplicable reason, I tasted them. (Those of you who know me know that I have a quirky side, which often turns out right.) They were totally salty. I did the same with the dry, neatly folded stuff. Ditto. Everything had obviously been 'washed' in the harbor, and this harbor water is not exactly like the Caribbean. It is downright nasty. So, I took all of the 'washed' stuff and rinsed it out in fresh water. I won't even describe the way the water looked after the rinse.

So, what have I learned? Perhaps washing my laundry in a running spring by the beach is not so bad!