Boatwise, it is a pleasure to leave Kupang: just up anchor, drift slowly seaward as you make sail at your leisure, and you are on your way. No tricky channels, no coral, no adverse tides, no shifting winds, no held breath.
Much as we had looked forward to a leisurely trip up the Indonesian archipelago, we decided to make no more stops until Bali, where we felt more certain of our welcome. We had no desire to cause incidents, and were afraid that the feeling against the Japanese which had been evidenced in such a relatively large port as Kupang might cause even more trouble in remote spots, even farther removed from central control.
Accordingly, we set our course for Benoa, the port of entry to Bali, 500 miles to the west. On this hop there was much leisure for reading and relaxation. Books were always a special joy at sea, partly because we had time to think about what we read and partly because, in the hours when we gathered in the cockpit, we found pleasure in sharing what we had been reading through discussion or by reading bits aloud. Life at sea was teaching us the joys of conversation, of propounding a theory, of following an idea to its logical conclusion. We all increased our knowledge painlessly and almost unconsciously as we compared impressions of the people and places we had left behind or tried to learn a bit about the ports that lay ahead.
In route to Bali we talked, among other things, about our brief experience in Timor, about Mr. Ndonoe and his almost childlike eagerness, about the unreasonably prejudiced and stubborn senior immigration officer; about the very young immigration officials; and about the Italian port doctor who had come out for a two-year term “because not enough doctor for all the place they need.”
For the first time, as we read something of the history of this very new republic, we realized what terrible obstacles Indonesia was facing in her struggle to achieve a place in the community of nations. She had no background of gradual education and preparation for self-rule, as had the Philippines. Having thrown off a very paternalistic colonial rule by sudden revolution, she found herself without enough experienced leaders, professional men, and trained government officials. No wonder so many of the officers we met had seemed young. They were! And as for the older ones, like our senior official in Kupang, he had perhaps worked in a minor capacity under the Dutch and, on the basis of such slight experience, had been quickly kicked upstairs. Perhaps his overbearing and dogmatic attitude was simply a reflection of the treatment he himself had received or observed under the hated colonial rulers whom he had replaced.
Our periods of companionship in the cockpit were never scheduled and sometimes burgeoned at an hour that would have been unthinkable ashore. For example, from Barbara’s diary:
July 13. Woke up about 3 A.M. and realized by the wallowing of the ship, the slatting of sails, and the banging of blocks that the wind had left us. Went up to sit with Ted on watch. The wind was beginning to tease us, coming in little puffs and then falling off—but each time returning a little more strongly, until gradually we began to move and the water aft began to gurgle a bit. The phosphorescence of our wake was spectacular—we could trace the curve of the rudder deep down and bubbles of light like sparkling champagne were kicked up behind.
At four, when Earle came on watch, Jessica heard us talking and she, too, came up and joined us, just in time for a thrilling display of phosphorescent dolphins! They gamboled and disported about us in luminous streaks and splashes. We could follow them beneath the surface, a moving river of cold, greenish light, until they broke the surface in a shower of spangles accompanied by the characteristic “whoof” of expelled air.
Our entrance into Bali was one of the most trying and difficult that we had yet experienced. The currents that sweep down between the islands are fierce in these areas and the monsoon wind pours down through the passes. The year previous, a yacht larger than the Phoenix had been blown down the strait while attempting to reach Bali and it had taken her a month to work her way back against the winds. We had no desire to emulate that experience!
The log tells of some of our difficulties: