Band On The Run
25 May 2020
Well......,please excuse me and, my apologies for absence but when there’s absolutely hee-haw happening and it’s seriously difficult to tell one day from the other, there just isn’t the material for a half decent Blog post. A highlight of the day, if not the week is to break all the rules and now long established lockdown habits and walk around the island, THE OTHER WAY!!!! On occasions I’ve even pushed the risk boundaries to the absolute limit by going swimming before an hour has passed since I last ate.
Part of me has been thinking that being tied to the dock for so long, we’re slowly being institutionalised, or possibly, a bit like a Perkins engine, marinised. We’re almost at the point where parting from the dock, and critically, severing the umbilical cord that drives the air conditioner, will be so daunting we’ll just veg here forever.
Which is what we’ve been doing today. It’s now officially monsoon season and this morning’s stair rod rain was an excuse to skip our daily workout class and walk around the island. As the humidity increases, 83% yesterday and, as I can hardly see the back of the cockpit for rain, I’m pretty sure it’s 100% today, we are increasingly inclined to keep the doors firmly shut, put the air-con to Boost, lie back and just read, listen to music, drink tea and try and cut back the video backlog. ( https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCGLk5_FCruHVi_-tO-jbdmA?view_as=subscriber )
Consequently, today we’ve been frittering away the hours although I did make some progress with the next video. While I was tapping away, Spotify was playing in the background and wee Sir Paul came on with Wings and as he sang, the words from Band On The Run struck a chord.....
“Stuck inside these four walls stuck inside forever. Never seeing no one nice again”.
And so, as the thunder crashes and the rain lashes down outside, I’m thinking, “Know what? I hate to not be sailing and partying with our cruising buddies every night, but actually, it’s quite nice”.
14 May 2020
Fishing is a way of life here on Love Island, our own little tropical rainforest cum marina where we've been locked down for the last nine weeks. And I'm delighted to report we've not been frittering away our time just sitting about getting fat and happy. On the contrary, every day we get up early (ish) and do lap 1 of the island, some 4,686 steps, stopping half way at "The Lookout" a cheesecloth curtained sit-ooterie that we commandeer for our morning fitness class. ( https://www.facebook.com/BaseFitnessPersonalTraining/ )
As we puff and pant our way through the exercises we're treated to a wonderful display of local, exotic, tropical life.
In the shallows, a few hundred metres away from our "gym" there's a fleet of parked and empty fishing boats, their occupants wading around, chest deep, diving for shellfish.
Daily, the local fishermen position their nets just off our platform and as they get their morning workout hauling in their net, they look on with incredulity as we sweat buckets jumping around like loonies only just shaded from the searing sunshine and over thirty degrees of heat with humidity you could swim through. Push ups, squats, lunges, crunches and more in pursuit of health, fitness and of course, that Love Island body. (For when they re-start the series. ( https://www.sailblogs.com/member/timebandit/477167 )
Above us, sea eagles and ospreys soar around, circling until spotting breakfast and swooping down to grab a fish supper. Monkeys and monitors are fishing down on the rocks, feasting on crabs and a few yards off in the bay, a family of eight or nine otters are popping up and down, mum and dad giving their pups a Masterclass in sea fishing.
It's all very David Attenborough.
Me? I'm just fishing for compliments.
04 May 2020
I just read that the BBC is postponing production of Love Island until 2021!
Wow! Shattering news and right up there in the headlines with the latest in infection and death rates and the collapse of the global economy. Even ahead of Donald's latest mind blowing gaff.
Not to worry though, I'm documenting the daily state of play here in Rebak on our own Love Island. There's a lot of similarities between us and the TV participants. We've cliques. The beach bar clique sit at one end of the beach. The swimming clique at the other. There's friendships and perhaps a bit of bitchiness. There's chatty folk and there's reserved folk. One metre people and seven metre people. And growing tensions! Who nabbed all the mangoes! Who passed or sat too close for comfort? Who's been on the Corona Express, going ashore to the big island for supplies?
We're currently locked down until 12th May and there's the real possibility one or two folks might get voted off the island before then and if the availability of avocados doesn't improve real soon, there could trouble ahead.
It really is just like on the tele........ other than body shapes and average age.
Indonesia - Part 6 Selayar
28 April 2020
Brace Yersel Effie
28 April 2020 | Virtual Sailing
No, not the Scotsman's idea of foreplay, just another message from the Malaysian government - lockdown extended another two weeks and we're braced for the likelihood of a further two weeks. Aaaargh.
Many years ago we were on the car ferry on our way to Shetland for a long weekend sea kayaking. It was an overnighter and we'd splashed out on a cabin. It came with a bed and its own loo and shower. It even had a window. It could also have doubled as a broom cupboard.
We left Aberdeen early evening and at around midnight, we felt the engines slow as the ship pulled in to Orkney to let the locals and tourists off. Unable to sleep in our cupboard cum cabin we headed up on deck to have a look at the capital of the Orkneys, Kirkwall. A bit daft really as it was midnight and it was pitch black. As we peered out into the darkness, seeing just a few street lights, straining to see any signs of life ashore, I turned to Anne and said, "What the hell do people do here in the winter?"
Out of the darkness, a voice next to me says, "Alcoholism and adultery". The voice then turns and heads into the darkness, towards the gang plank, shoulders slumped in recognition that its probably too late for either.
Here in sunny Rebak, after five weeks locked down it's beginning to feel a bit the same. Not much to do. Boredom settling in. Long days and longer dark nights. It's got all the potential for the above except, 1. You have to risk catching "the bug" and head ashore on the Corona Express to the big island for booze and 2. Nobody wants to sail home in a boat half the size the one they've got.
Now Wash Your Hands
22 April 2020 | Virtual Sailing
This Corona thing is beginning to feel like jazz music. It goes on, and on, and on, and on.
Daily we check the News, fake or otherwise to see what’s going on, where and when. We read endlessly. Each day we do another boat job, tackling one of the “To-Do’s” from either the Critical / Important / Nice to Do list or, the Things We’ll Say, “We should have done this during lockdown list”. Yesterday that included swimming about in the marina wiping down the antifoul, keeping the barnacles at bay. Swimming about in the marina soup that it’s better you don’t think what’s in it. We’ve also never been so informed. The nice people at the telecoms place give us a free GB every day so we can surf ourselves stupid online. Nor have we been so fit, leaping around in a lather at Ian’s morning exercise class ( https://www.facebook.com/BaseFitnessPersonalTraining/ ).
So, coming out of this, as we surely will, the boat will be shinier. We’ll be slimmer and fighting fit. We’ll be smarter and well read. Our hands will be soft from near continuous hand washing although, the notices and online demos are becoming like the airline seatbelt demo. Seen one, seen ‘em all. Like the new Corona cases curve, people’s interest flattens out, then declines then nobody pays any attention.
A bit like me telling Anne to trim the genoa “just a couple of inches”.
Indonesia Part 5
18 April 2020
Care in the Community
13 April 2020
Up at the crack of dawn, springing into action we head round to the resort pool for our morning exercise class.
Puff, puff, puff for forty minutes then back for brekky. A few more time units burned on Internet research, some more trying to catch up on my video backlog and perhaps even a couple of units on a boat job or two.
It's all GO here.
Late afternoon we head back to the pool, sometimes we do another class and sometimes we just join Georgia, Carpe Mare, Cattiva and Il Sogno for a sundowner and a chat, catching up on the latest scuttlebut swirling around the marina.
The worrying thing is, seated as we are, strictly abiding by the social distancing rule, we look decidedly like the inmates of the Rebak Marina Care Home. (PA - eat your heart out!)