location:    

Captain's Log:   

Solara reached Phuket, Thailand, in late November, 2003, giving Janet and I one month to prepare Solara for our next and second ocean crossing. I was anxious about this new ocean. We faced long passages between strange and distant ports. I was worried about possible engine and equipment breakdowns in remote mysterious places. We read about the Andamans, the Maldives, and other Indian Ocean paradises, but I realized that I would be entirely on my own in these places. We also read news clippings about bombings in Sri Lanka, about pirates in Oman, Yemen and Somalia, and about border skirmishes in Eritrea and 
Sudan (all of which turned out to be factual and a part of our experience). 

Although Solara still had a bent boom from an incident one night in 
Indonesia with a fishing boat, we had completed most of our major repair and maintenance work in Malaysia, and the boat was ready, so I thought. Still, we had lots of preparation and work during our month in Phuket e.g.. provisioning, topping up our various fuels and our water tanks, checking safety gear, checking our rigging and our electrical and engine systems, and checking and re checking the multiplicity of different visa and other entry rules and regulations. We made frequent trips to chandleries, hardware stores, internet cafes, and markets, all the time struggling with our limited Thai language abilities. And we had to get our Thai clearance papers. 

Our daughter, Vicky, joined us at Phuket's Boat Lagoon marina shortly before our departure. On the day preceding our planned departure the three of us went into Phuket town to obtain our clearance certificates from the customs, immigration and port authorities. At the first office we were greeted by surprised stares and informed that the clearance procedures had been consolidated and simplified the previous day. We would, however, have to go to Ao Chalong, a fishing port several miles away. The simplification cost us a day. 

Instead of departing the next day we sailed Solara to the brown choppy waters of Ao Chalong bay, anchored in the swells near the fishing boats and readied the dinghy for a wet and muddy ride to shore. All the various officials shared tiny desks in a tiny room dedicated for boat clearances. We had been told that it would open at 08:00 in the morning. We arrived early. 

A pleasant customs officer arrived at 08:30 and handed me several forms 
apparently identical to the forms which I had completed a month before, all in Thai script. The officer pleasantly told me how to fill in the blank spaces and then instructed me to take the completed forms to a yellow building about 300 meters away and obtain copies for him. I did so and we then waited for the immigration officers who soon appeared in spectacular be-medaled uniforms looking like U.S. navy admirals with side arms. They gave us similar forms which they cheerfully helped me complete and they too sent me to get copies for them from the yellow building! The port control officer then eventually arrived and I completed more forms and made a third trip to the yellow building. Lots of smiles and good wishes. We were finally free to sail off. 

We dinghied back to Solara and immediately raised the main sail only to 
discover a foot long tear in the leach. How? When? We anchored off a nearby sandy beach resort and spent several hours creating a nearly professional sail repair and patch worthy of an ocean crossing. I was 
grateful for help and advice from other sailors. I subsequently had lots of 
major sail repairs on my own in those distant places we had been reading about. 

As we were completing the sail patch and marveling at the white sand beach, Janet discovered that the mainsail traveler coupling (a 3/8" stainless steel shackle) had shattered. It just sheered into 3 pieces. There was no stress on it at the moment, and we were lucky to have had it happen in an anchorage. Anyway, I had a spare shackle which I pounded and bent into the fitting and it worked; and off we sailed from Thailand. 

Our route would take us first along the western coast of Thailand, through stunning offshore islands, and then across the Andaman Sea to the Andaman Islands of India. We would then make the long passage across the Bay of Bengal to Sri Lanka. 

The sail to Port Blair in the Andamans only took us three days. The checking in and out of Port Blair took us two days. We had experienced Indian bureaucracy in the Indian High Commission office in Kuala Lumpur where we obtained our Indian visas, but Port Blair gave us a whole new bureaucratic experience. 

I had sent the required one week notice by fax from Phuket to Port Blair 
Harbour Authority listing our boat particulars a week before. Anticipating an 08:00 arrival, I called them on the radio, as required, at about 02:00 to give them the required six hours radio notice. There was no response at first but at about 04:30 I was told to radio again when I arrived at the harbour. When we arrived just inside the harbour, I dropped sails and called in again, and a new voice insisted that I turn around and wait outside the harbour as I did not have permission to enter the harbour. So I turned Solara around and motored 200 meters back and waited for five minutes. The voice then called back and gave me permission to enter the harbour, and to anchor. We had to wait for the immigration inspection.

We inflated the dinghy and I took it in to the wharf about a half mile away, where the group of immigration officers waited in their spanking white and starched uniforms. They came back to Solara with me in my dinghy. The forms and questions took about an hour, during which the wind picked up. While we were being examined and filling out forms, the whole harbour burst into thousands of small whitecaps. The poor officers were soaked on the return from their visit, but they were good sports about it. They took a lot of kidding from some waiting customs officers, who in turn got soaked on their trip out to the boat.