Thursday 7th March

Thursday 7^th March

We were all very shocked to hear that the boys at one of the (extreme) Christian schools in Tasmania had been caught accessing porn on their computers.  Shock, horror, surely not???  We can only assume that the boys got told off in no uncertain terms, and told to mend their sinful ways.  What we do know is….that the GIRLS got hauled over the coals.  Apparently it is very much their responsibility not to dress or behave in any way which might make the poor boys feel the need to look at porn… Are they going to provide these poor girls with burkas next, or what???

Junktime – Ha Long Bay 2008

At 4pm we went back down to Benh Bao Bay, to clamber onto our two junks.  Rina, Kerry, Pete and I had one to ourselves; the other was jam-packed with people:

Patrick Moreau (France) and Hoang (Vietnam), from the film crew trying to make a documentary about preserving Halong Bay - or rather, trying to clean up Halong Bay…it is very dirty…

Vinh, our host, in his US army fatigues, cigarette perpetually on his lower lip

Finn and Eddy McCall (Australia) - brothers working in Hanoi (v young)

Dan Dockerey aka Dan From Nam (London)

Phuong (Vietnam) - Dan’s beautiful, delicate girlfriend who is setting up a business in Hanoi - guess what - running a string of bellydancing schools (I knew you wouldn’t guess!  All the more amazing as Phuong was tiny, had NO bellyfat at all…)

Crew

The food started out promising.  Our first night we had white bread with pate, salami, cheese, salmon terrine, all very runny in the heat.  It was very hot the whole time we were in Halong Bay, probably in the high 30s, sometimes up to 42, I reckon… Pete made G & T for us in metal teacups; the junks were both very light on for equipment of any sort.  (And yes that means safety equipment too - I did look, and found one orange plastic ring - no life jackets or other flotation devices, no lifeboats…) We were quite happy.  It was much too hot to go into the cabin, so the four of us stretched out on mattresses on the deck.  Rina and Kerry were soon snoring rhythmically into each other’s necks.  It was absolutely beautiful, cruising through the night, with the mythical magical islands all around us.  On the other junk, the boys were busy, up all night, singing, drinking, smoking…we could hear the bongs bubbling away long after the last murmur of voices had drifted across the sea…

Sailing is basic here.  No charts or echo sounders or electronic aids.  Navigation of 3000 islands by sight and memory, Ving wanted captain to sail at night against his advice.

Not a good idea as hit rock and lost rudder.  We had sailed on but went back and found them and tied two together and got to boatyard.   Motored tied together for two days then small craft left and we rudderless at anchor!!.

The bit in italics is from an email Kerry wrote…he is more economical with words, as you can see, than I am.  So there we were, motoring along happily, until at 2am Pete said, hmm, well where IS the other junk??  Our captain turned back and we found them, marooned and rudderless.  Much banging and crashing as they tied the boats together.  Both engines worked alongside each other, and our junk still had steering so we were able to keep on with our trip.  Sort of…

We spent the day moored near a dusty coal-mining town.  My notes say it was called Vendon, in the Kaizam region, but I can’t find either of these names on a map.  I don’t think I imagined these names but who knows??  I have just spent some time googling and have found a beautiful little town on an island called Van Don.  Picturesque in the extreme.  This is NOT where we were… Our little town had slagheaps on the waterfront.  It was extremely hot and we just sat and drifted about from side to side on the mooring line.  It was all very peaceful.  There didn’t seem to be any food, just lots of water, and lots of beer.  We read our books, dozed, and swam, once we had moved away from the jetty.  The water was very warm, almost not refreshing and not all that clean, but it was just wonderful to swim, and to feel just a bit cleaner and fresher. 

Some of the men from the other boat had a trip into town.  I think it was even hotter there, and not all that fascinating, because they looked at us enviously when they came back, laden with noodles, and a very fresh fish.  We had a meal that night, and this made us feel quite lively.  Pete and I went over to the boyjunk and sat with them for quite a while.  Pete did a spirited rendition of Rock Island Line for them, and my notes say that we did a duet of Wolverton Mountain.  I’m afraid this is more than likely… I also had some very tense and intense conversations with Finn McCall, who teaches English in Hanoi.  He is very young, maybe 24, and had extreme opinions, for example, about Zero Population Growth.  I think he was very shocked at Kerry’s, Pete’s and my profligacy with respect to offspring - we have four each… No wonder I had another gin and sang Wolverton Mountain, much less challenging than trying to justify my non-ZPG path in life!