A farewell voyage
Alan Bannister makes the most of his last sail aboard his Esse 850 while delivering her to a new owner in Indonesia
It’s said that gentlemen don’t sail to windward, but what if that gentleman has already agreed to the voyage? The wind forecast for the South China Sea had arrows pointing towards me from Bawah Reserve in the Anambas Islands, 150 miles to the northeast of Singapore. Downwind, the passage would have been manageable, but upwind fair descriptions would be ‘not possible’ or ‘foolhardy’, but I’d sold my boat and agreed to deliver her.
At only 28ft, Roo2 looked tiny in the marina, but the Esse 850 is a day boat well suited to the short distances, calm waters and light airs of Singapore.
The first leg from Singapore had been perfect, a five-hour reach through the shipping lanes in a brisk wind to Nongsa in Indonesia. Leaving Singapore waters for the first time I felt like a real adventurer hoisting my Indonesian courtesy flag.
A resort supply boat was to escort me to Bawah Reserve. ‘You go ahead, we’ll catch you up,’ the boat captain had said to me, confidently. There was no pulling out of the voyage without acute embarrassment. Being British, sailing over the horizon in an unsuitable vessel into a headwind singlehanded was preferable to being embarrassed, so with a stiff upper lip and butterflies in my stomach I departed.
Once on the water my fears evaporated. It was a beautiful clear day with a strong breeze, albeit into my face. Looking back there was no sign of the escort boat leaving, but my confidence was high.
NAVIGATING DEADLY OBSTACLES
The Horsburgh Lighthouse is a mystical location for local sailors, sitting on the isolated rock of Pedra Branca. The annual Horsburgh Challenge is considered the most challenging keel-boat event in Singapore and few make it that far.
I took the opportunity to sail close by, taking a selfie that I’ll always treasure. I doubt anyone has ever passed the lighthouse singlehanded in a small boat.
As the sun set I saw something white floating in the water ahead. Initially I thought it was rubbish before my worst fears were confirmed: a fishing net. Getting caught in a net at night windward of Pedra Branca would be deadly. I went back downwind and around, but soon spied similar floats and again had to turn back.
It hadn’t occurred to me that the sea would be a forest of fishing nets. I’d sailed all day to get this far. Was I going to be forced to sail all the way back again? More importantly, would I be able to sail all the way back? Were there hundreds of nets surrounding me? The ocean began to feel big and dark and dangerous, and my confidence cracked.
Suddenly the radio crackled into life. ‘Roo2, this is the Bawah supply boat’. I’d completely forgotten about them. ‘Will you continue sailing or shall we tow you?’ asked the captain. In as relaxed a voice as possible I replied, ‘I’m fine sailing, but towing will be faster, thanks’.
Spending the night lying on the spinnaker stargazing then watching the sunrise gave a flavour of the magic of ocean sailing that I hope to experience again. It was a fitting farewell journey, even if it did end with a tow to Bawah Reserve.