Pulau Hantu - or maybe not ...

Date: Sept 19, 2015
Trip #3
Weather: Sunny but hazy (air in 'unhealthy' range, no thanks to Indonesia)
Waters: Calm, mostly
On board: C, J2, R and A 
New gear on board: Go Pro with a clip-on mount, a paddleboard, a dry bag

We thought we'd take Little Wanderer out and try to get to the Southern islands, for a gauge of how long it'd take to get there from Raffles Marina. When we say "Southern islands", we mean the two Sisters Islands, St John's and Lazarus, on whose beaches we had spent many a happy afternoon and even an overnight stay more than a decade ago.

Then again, we thought we should be less ambitious. Raffles Marina is, after all, wayyy out in western Singapore. When we last had a boat, we were dry-berthed at Keppel Marina in south-central Singapore. Coming out of the marina's no-wake zone, you'd run smack into the western end of Sentosa already, and the Southern islands were just about 20 minutes away from there.

So, coming from Raffles Marina in Tuas, we had miles to go today. 

We clipped on C's Go Pro to its new goose-neck mount and shot a video, which we had to edit heavily because we forgot to turn the thing off! The 10-second clip (edited by C) is a nice one though. Thing to note: The clip shows us going faster than we felt we were going! [The video clip doesn't show up on mobile devices. I haven't figured out why.] 

The waters were a lot flatter than when we last went out (see the Sept 12 post); that was before the craziness of the general election sucked us into a vortex of prolonged work hours. But GE2015 is done with now... 

Today, it took us about 25 minutes, I think, to get to "Lands End", our name for that western corner of Singapore, at which - if you are coming from Raffles Marina - you have to turn to port to head for Pulau Bukom, Pulau Hantu and beyond that, the Southern islands. (On that last choppy ride, with Piang at the wheel, it took us 40 minutes to get to Land's End.)

"Land's End": That western-most tip of Singapore. After turning to port,
the water is rougher. Lots more ships too.

The waters got rougher after we made the turn, and we were reminded that these were Singapore's busy sea lanes. Huge tankers, PSA harbour pilots, some speed boats, a couple of tug boats hauling vessels loaded with sand or other stuff, the Coast Guard, and yes, a Republic of Singapore Navy vessel, bristling with radar thingamajigs.  

The haze got the better of us, and we realised that our Garmin GPS was the only thing guiding us. A couple of what looked like islands skulked in the hazy distance, and we couldn't be sure if it was Pulau Hantu. The GPS map wasn't too helpful to us. It had so much information, crammed with triangles representing boats, sea-depth indicators and 2,000 other markings. A crowded map indeed, which we were still trying to figure out.  (We really should RTFM.) 

I remember how much less complicated it was a decade and a half ago. We pored over hard-copy maps the size of a broadsheet newspaper!

TMI!

What was clear was that even Pulau Hantu seemed pretty far off from Raffles Marina, never mind the Southern islands beyond it. We headed back, again guided by GPS. The waters on the home stretch were really calm today, and J2 (under supervision of Captain C), gunned it. 

J2 at the wheel. Speed Freak went full throttle. 

Before long, we saw the gentle span of the Tuas Second Link ahead of us in the haze, and we made straight for the marina. A good ride out today, though we never really got anywhere.  

C takes us back to home base. Just outside the no-wake zone, we put out the fenders.
With our still trying to regain our sea legs, berthing causes a fair amount of stress.

Little Wanderer is "recovered" by the marina crew. We had already hosed down
 the interiors. The boat was moved to the washing bay, where C flushed the 
outboard motor to get rid of the salt water. This is going to be a post-trip routine... 

A bunch of mussels on a rope in the waters within the marina.
Raffles Marina very nature. Much awesome.
(With acknowledgments to Doge @DogeTheDog.)

Eric left our paddleboard on board. It was a freebie that we got with the boat. C has yet to go for the class I signed him up for. It will be a while before we use it. 

Navigating a parallel universe

We all live in our comfortable little worlds, following our comfortable little routines. Once in a while, however,  we get on a train that takes us to a different world that has been existing all this while - a world with its own denizens, its own rules, its own ways and its own accoutrements - without our knowledge.

I got this feeling yesterday, when C and I visited Raffles Marina for a "nautical exhibition" and second-hand boat sale. Booths had been set up by the nice folk in the world of boating and yachting; out on the water, there were half a dozen pre-owned pleasure craft seeking new owners.

In the air-conditioned comfort of the marina, one guy was selling kayaks that could be broken up into more manageable pieces. Another was selling gyroscopes (Seakeeper) that reduce the amount of "roll" on a boat (so that those prone to sea-sickness won't feel like throwing up). Yet another was selling break-proof glass-ware, so that you can wine and dine on the high seas with "propahhh" crockery that won't break each time your boat leaps and lurches on the high seas. Another retailer was selling a mini desalination plant for your boat - a keyboard-sized gadget that converts sea water into fresh, drinkable water (Rainman Desalination). Yet other booths were selling dry bags and mutant-sized cooler boxes.

Not that these doo-dads come cheap. Six of those break-proof wine glasses - frankly, they looked like plastic to me - cost S$96. But that would be a bargain compared to the gyroscope to minimise sea-sickness. That sphere slightly bigger than a football cost - get this - S$29,000. And while you are at it, throw in another S$10,000 to install it somewhere in the bowels of your boat. That's nearly S$40,000.

As R put it, it's far cheaper to barf into a plastic bag.

I call these strange, interest-driven places parallel universes. I get the same feeling when I go to Funan Centre (the temple for tech toys), Sim Lim Square (another temple for tech toys, but with thuggish sales people included in the price), Adelphi mall (for audiophiles) and Peace Centre (for musical instruments and LPs). I just feel displaced, unschooled in such places.

Out on the water, we met SGBoating's Eric, who was overseeing the sale of second-hand boats.  For S$15,000 more than what we paid for Little Wanderer, brand new, we could have bought a much larger boat with inboard motor and below-deck bed, stove and sink. Oh, and air-conditioning below-deck too. But these pre-owned boats were anywhere between four and six years old. (And here, I have memories of our previous [very!] pre-owned boats, which on occasion refused to start. Those were the weekends we were left feeling frustrated on the dock, with our cooler boxes of food and drink, but with nowhere to go.)

Eric told us that he had looked at the GPS on our boat and seen where we were trying to go on our last trip out (see previous post). He said he had checked this website and found that on Aug 22, the waters had been rough. Winds had been blowing south to north, which explained why our trip back to the marina had taken a much shorter time than our outbound trip, and that currents had been pushing south too. In short, the waters we were traversing were like a maelstrom.

It figures. May Little Wanderer find calmer waters.

Choppy waters!

Date: Aug 22, 2015
Trip #2
Weather: Overcast, windy
Waters: Choppy
On board: C, J2, R and A  + Piang (unplanned-for passenger)

The skies looked gloomy, but we headed west to Raffles Marina anyway, hoping the skies wouldn't open up. They didn't, but the skies stayed grey, and the sun, hidden.

It was to be just the four of us this time, C, J2, R and myself.

Little Wanderer needed to be topped up, and this was the day we found that a full tank of petrol would set us back around S$400+.

It was at this point that we played Death Cab For Cutie's Little Wanderer.  It is the anthem for this boat after all, isn't it?

Pre-departure checks, settling in.

One of the two or three places on the boat where one can pick a pre-set radio station
or pair the sound system with an iPhone. 

Getting out of the marina, however, proved to be a bit of a problem. The wind was up and the current within the marina was strong. And with the closed-in area being a no-wake zone, C didn't gun the throttle enough and lost a bit of control over the vessel as it was pulled into a slow whirl within the marina.

At one point, the port hit the side of the dock, leaving our hearts in our mouths. There was a faint scratch on the hull, a white gash against the shiny black, as if the boat name was being underscored.

(A few days later, we were to learn to our relief, the marina folk had the scratch polished out of existence. Nothing serious.)

As we righted the boat by the side of the dock, a young, tanned fellow carrying a backpack came up and asked if we needed help. He introduced himself as Piang - at least, that's how I think his name is spelled - and asked if we wanted to go out and if we would like him to drive the boat for us.

Alarm bells went off inside my head. A total stranger with us, on the high seas?

We said OK anyway, taking comfort in the thought there were four of us against his one. Piang steered the boat out of the marina confidently and took us south, towards the far western corner of Singapore, where we would have to turn to port to head for the Southern Islands.

Piang at the wheel.

The sea was rough. No two ways about it. Piang gunned it and still, we were bounced around. And though the conditions weren't ideal for a nice day on the water, it was perfect regatta weather. A big group of sailboats were out.

A depressingly grey day.

Conspiratorially, Piang told us that his boat piloting licence was a Malaysian one, and that if the Coast Guard popped by, we were to say that he was only the 'co-captain' for the day and relieving C of driving duties for a while.

My feeling of unease returned. We weren't exactly being kosher... but, with the waters like that, and the both of us yet to be used to the boat, we'd rather he be at the wheel.

We seemed to take a long while to reach Singapore's far south-western corner, with the rough waters slowing down our progress. R, seated up front at the bow, was covered in salt spray, her hair in damp strings.

R at the bow again, like on the maiden trip out. 

It was further south than we had ever gone on the practice boat and on our previous outing. The scenery wasn't too beautiful, actually. Lots of container-laden ships, cranes and facilities that were fenced up.

Finally, we got to the point we were supposed to make the turn to port. Piang asked if we wanted to go on. About 100m ahead, we saw the heaving sea, blue-grey with white caps. I said we ought to turn back, for it looked like the currents out there were crazy. Piang said we could forge ahead, but that water would seriously begin slopping on board.

No, we turn back, I said, my land-lubber mode kicking in. Piang got us back to the marina without further incident. The ride back seemed faster than the one heading out.

The Southern Islands would have to wait another day.

The maiden trip

Date: Aug 15, 2015
Trip #1
Weather: Sunny
Waters: Calm
On board: C, J2, R, A, with Eric of SGBoating

Eric had offered us the use of the marina's courtesy boat to practise our boat piloting skills, and we took him up on that all of only once! We were either too busy at work or the weather turned foul.

But with the boat already here, he suggested that we take a practice run in it and get used to the feel of it. To ease our nerves, he said he would come along on this, our first trip out, two days after I inspected it.

Eric was all set to help us get our sea legs back.

He gave C a run-down of the bits and bobs on the console and a refresher on using the throttle, the kill switch, filling the tank, raising the outboard motor... stuff like that.

So much to remember! 

And then we were off. Eric gave C some pointers about negotiating within the marina's 'no-wake' zone. C did admiringly well. Me, I politely declined to manoeuvre the boat while it was in the confines of the marina. What if I pranged it??

Cap'n C takes her out ... slowly, as J2 takes in the sights.

We get going and J2 looks chuffed.

And when we really get going... R is kinda happy.

We ran Little Wanderer outside the no-wake zone of the marina for about 45 minutes, both C and I taking turns at the wheel. It ran like a dream, and not too loud too. Being more used to driving on terra firma, I have to say driving in the absence of road lanes was a little disconcerting.  

Which font? Aarrgghh!

With the boat name chosen, it was next the matter of choosing the font we wanted it in. Eric showed us half a dozen randomly chosen ones from some online font market.

At first, we thought that was all the choice we had. Then he told us we could have "any font we chose, as long as it had a name" that he could use to tell the contractors who would produce the stickers spelling out Little Wanderer.

What happened next gave us far more grief than picking the name for the boat (see previous post), for C had dealt with fonts before when he was on the team redesigning The Straits Times and other publications, and I had taken classes on magazine design with a professor who was manic about how fonts can "speak".

And indeed they do.

Is it in script? Cursive? All capital letters? Upper and lower case? Serifed or sans serif? Is it bold? Light? Does it look serious and weighty? Playful? Elegant?

Elegant. C and I were agreed on that. And in upper and lower case for better readability. And serifed because ... well, serifed fonts - with their little "legs" - are more elegant, more tasteful.

We shortlisted nearly half a dozen contenders from The Font Bureau - yes, and eventually paid money (S$160?) for the rights to use one called Tangier. You can see the font here. We picked its boldest version for legibility, and since the colour of the boat hull is black, we asked for the boat name to be rendered in white. No problem with that decision.

I know. It just seems so anal on our part, right? But that's just us to angst about it. Fonts do speak.

Sweeping, graceful, and yes, elegant. 

How the name came to be

Naming one's boat is a sensitive matter, said SGBoating's Eric Koh. Although he has sold his fair share of boats and doled out advice to new owners, he said this has always been the point he would gingerly step away from his customers, unwilling to become involved in what has sometimes become a rather ... uh... tetchy spat between co-owners over the boat's name.

A check online showed no shortage of websites with suggested boat names, stories of how folks came up with their boat names and the pitfalls of choosing unfortunate names. Imagine for example, your boat is named Party Hardy or Drunk Again, and just when everyone on board is kinda happy, in good spirits (nudge, wink), the Coast Guard comes by... Drinking driving rules apply out at sea too.

One site sagely advised: "The name you pick for your boat will reflect to others a little about you - about your intellect (or lack thereof), your worldliness (or lack thereof) and your sense of humour."

C and I just let the matter lie for a week or two. I suggested that the name ought to hint at our profession, which has - truth be told - paid us enough for us to be able to plonk down good money for this. How about something along the lines of Offstoned, or something to do with deadlines. He baulked.

Why don't you name the boat after me, I demanded petulantly once. (He gave me a look that could only be interpreted as: "You've really over-reached on that one.")

J1's suggestion came all the way from Sydney, where he's in school, and cracked everyone up. Usain Boat, he said, conveys a sense of speed, which, he was sure, the boat was capable of ...  Needless to say, C vetoed that.

I asked Dr Google for a list of song titles with a reference to the sea. Nothing seemed to hit the spot.

Then C said: "What about Little Wanderer?" Death Cab For Cutie's song speaks of a longing ache for a lover terminally hit by wanderlust. Hear the song and see the video here.

Here, the first verse and chorus:

You sent a photo out your window in Tokyo

Told me you were doing fine

You said the cherry blossoms were blooming

And that I was on your mind

But I couldn't make you out through the glitches

It's how it always seems to go

So we say our goodbyes over Messenger

As the network overloads

When the network overloads

You're my wanderer, little wanderer

Off across the sea

You're my wanderer, little wanderer

Won't you wander back to me

Back to me 

Perfect. We had the name.

The boat is here!!

So we did it. We bit the bullet and got Chaparral's 250 SunCoast, after having owned two boats - one at a time, of course - a decade and a half ago.

We had great times with family and friends on board the "banana boat" - the yellow jalopy didn't really have a name - and then the Betty K. Now, with both of us staring at our retirement years in less than a decade, we want to relive those times. The wind in your hair. The chill atmosphere of Singapore's southern islands. And how wine and a beach-grilled burger seem to taste so much better on sand away from the madding crowd, and in the company of the people who matter to us.

I'll skip all the bits about the costs and the paperwork  - application forms and e-mail with the Marine & Port Authority and even Singtel -  and go straight to the day the boat became ready for us to inspect! It had arrived at Raffles Marina a couple of nights before in a convoy, complete with Cisco outriders, in the dead of night...

C couldn't make it on Inspection Day, so I drove to Raffles Marina in Singapore's far west on my own, met Eric of SGBoating. 

There it was, our boat! It was brought down from an upper rack to the washing bay, and I was provided a ladder onto which to clamber on board, and Eric did so too, to give me a quick tour of its features. Till now, we had only seen these features  in Chaparral's glossy brochure and online, as we cherry-picked the features we wanted, from choice of hull colour to the gadgets on board.

The ensuing paperwork and The Waiting in the three months after that had made our purchase of the boat seemed unreal. The boat first had first to be physically built halfway round the world to our specs and then loaded on the container ship ALM Crystal, which then made its way across the Atlantic from the US' Carolinian coast, into the Mediterranean Sea, down the Suez Canal, then across the Indian Ocean and down Straits of Malacca. We know the ALM Crystal's route because we tracked it online! 

But this was August 13, 2015. And the boat was finally here.

The boat, its outboard motor still under a white wrap, sits on rack B03 in
Raffles Marina. It is Chaparral's 2015  model, and ours is the first of this model in Singapore. 

Brought to ground level, in the washing bay.

Does one call this the console? I'm still thinking like a land-lubber. We got it fitted with GPS.

The Chaparral logo, stitched into the leather. Ooh, luxe!

This boat seats 12, and is about 25ft long.

At the bow is this hatch, below which is the anchor. 

At the stern, on either side of the outboard motor, is the swim platform.
Below that hatch is a ladder which flips out and can be lowered into the water. 
There is also a hose and shower head for rinsing off with fresh water from the boat's store.
 A nice-to-have option, we thought, so we went for it.