After a nice and peaceful few days in Brunei we set off Djakarta...and another series of "arguments" with the crew of "Beaver". But even during such a short passage we were once again subjected to a lot of the "odd-ball" things that the RN dream up "to maintain sharpness". Sod the maintenance of our ship. This sort of stuff may be all very well on a heavily manned war-canoe, but it becomes wearing for a ship that has less than 100 on board.
I quite like Djakarta. A real mix of the old and the new. Modern vehicles, thousands of buses weaving their way between old ox-carts and the Indonesian version of the rickshaw. And all small people! Made me feel at the grand height of 5'7" quite tall. I took our Senior Purser ashore with me, past all the pleasant bungalows with nice gardens. The centre reservation in the dual carriageway crammed with topiary of all sorts ...an unexpected vision. But Senior P wanted to see the local market. We both loved the Veggie part, but only I enjoyed the Meat bit. Cows heads, sheep, goat and unrecognizable heads were strewn all over the place. Entrails had to be gently sidefooted away. How the "other half" lives! The stink was appalling, and poor Senior P was feeling quite sick. But I was fascinated by all this lot. Wouldn't say I loved it...but it was a bit of an education. But right next door to all this carnage is a 5 star "International" hotel, so we went from 3rd world yeucch to 20th century luxury within 100 yards.
Indonesia also shares (in my opinion) with the Fillipinoes, the presence of some of the most beautiful women on the planet....until they start talking. You may think that Geordies, Brummies or Glaswegians are hard on the ear, wait till you hear this lot. These gorgeous girls that a man would die for all seem to speak (at the same time) in such piercing voices that it actually hurts the ear. Silence is not a word that is used in these parts of the world.
Anyway, glossing over a disastrous Embassy reception (young idiots getting out of their skulls), we were eventually on our way to the land of the XXXX (as Terry Pratchett would have it).
But we struck lucky. Before the Fleets of the World arrived in "the vicinity" (Australia is so big that the term "vicinity" was very loosely interpreted), our lot was all shunted off to various places on the East coast. As I said, we were lucky. We got to go to Darwin. By ourselves. It was probably dreamed up by some Staff officer to keep us out of the way. but it proved to be a smashing little town. Not so little in actual size, but its isolation makes it feel small and tight knit. It was odd to walk down a randomly chosen street and find that when the tarmac stopped at the last house there was nothing ahead of you. Nothing. Miles and miles of absolutely nothing. Agoraphobics do not live in Darwin. In "normal" towns the inhabitants do not tie their roofs to the ground with 6' long tent-pegs. Of course that was the outcome of a devastating typhoon that caused massive damage, but the end result to a visitor was to make the place look like a permanent Boy Scouts camp.
Darwinians (the inhabitants, not the scientific adherents) do share a lot in common with all the other human inhabitants of this continent. They all have to co-exist with some beautiful and friendly co-occupants. Everything that walks, swims,crawls, slithers, flies or drives a road-train will kill you. Very human-friendly. Spiders that live in the "dunny" and can leap high enough to cause problems, snakes that can just about fly if they like the look of your throat, fish that can kill you even after they are dead. And the flies. Before the Australians invented wine, where did they get the corks for their hats from? One of lifes imponderables. But after a few tinnies the whole world wobbles a bit so the corks just look like they belong in front of the eyes.
But what greeted us on our arrival was not the welcoming flotilla of small boats, but a fleet of small boats hunting a crocodile that had "taken" a fisherman the previous day. Apparently a couple of guys had gone out fishing, and after a couple of "tinnies" or so, had dozed off....as one does. Mr.Croc then gets over the stern of the boat and makes off with a 6' bit of dozing lunch. Naughty. Don't these beggers know that they are a "protected" species? A bit like our Sea-Gull problem, but with an Aussie twist. The croc hunters got their target....and half of the "snoozer".
Darwin is full of contradictions. The Main Street has some loveley and modern shops, but also some very old Australian style Victorian buildings complete with verandas and corrugated iron roofs. Most of these are "pubs". Right slap bang in the middle of the street was an ancient pub that had perhaps a dozen 30" loudspeakers facing outwards into the street. Incredible noise. But inside it was relatively peaceful.
I got chatting to a "Highway" policeman ....or perhaps he was talking to me...(he had to shout a bit)...but the gist of theconversation was that when the first set of traffic lights appeared in Darwin he'd be off again to pastures new.
Very odd people are the true Aussies. Perhaps that's why I love them.
Down to Newcastle (NSW) next en-route to Sydney. Cheers. BY.