The Serendipity of a Special Harbor
When Wild Card is delayed in Malaysia due to vagaries of the weather, a year's layover there proves to be a recharging experience for her crew. "On Watch" from our April 2010 issue
The beauty of sailing around the world is that you can do it at your own pace. There are no rules. Aboard Wild Card, Carolyn and I have no schedule or preconceived plan, only a commitment to love each other and the planet. Our watery lives are whimsical, in the best sense of the word. For example, we attended the party for my mother's 90th birthday last year, and the consequence of this Stateside sojourn was that the monsoonal weather patterns ended up causing us to stay an extra year in Southeast Asia, sailing out of the tiny island of Langkawi, off Malaysia's western shore.
Why not? What's an extra year or two when you're having fun?
We've found a vague pattern that suits us: We sail hard for a couple of years, averaging 8,000 miles or so per, then hole up someplace wonderful to recharge our batteries, rehab the boat, and build back up the cruising kitty.
We weren't expecting the island of Langkawi (the name in Malay means "fish hawk") to be such an ideal spot for this, but that's how it turned out. As Carolyn often says, "The best parts of cruising are always a surprise."
The local Malays of Langkawi are extremely friendly. There's little or no crime. Weather conditions are benign (read: no hurricanes) all year long. Anchoring is free, and your vessel can stay without regulation for as long as you want. Visitors can stay for as long as they want, too, provided that they don't work and that they leave the country for 72 hours every three months, an easy task because exotic Thailand and bustling Singapore lie, respectively, to the north and the south. (Getting a visa eliminates the need to make a visa run to a neighboring country.)
Perhaps the nicest aspect is that ethnically diverse Langkawi (40 percent Malay, 40 percent Chinese, 10 percent Indian, 10 percent other), and Malaysia itself, offers the best of both worlds: the laid-back ease of the Third World with the telecommunications and creature comforts of the industrialized West.
The air-conditioned library is right across the street from the dinghy dock, and the very-observant librarian knows all the books that I've already read-and, in his opinion, should read.
We didn't even need an alarm clock since the crescent-shaped harbor rings each morning with the calls to prayer coming from the minarets of the five nearby mosques.
Sailing conditions are generally light, with flat seas. Dozens of pristine harbors are within an easy daysail; most of them deserted both ashore and afloat. Phuket, Thailand, is less than 24 hours away under sail. Empty beaches abound. Miniature pink dolphins and playful sea otters frolic. Monkeys are everywhere. Mind you, watch your soap-the imps eat the bars and drink the liquid!
Langkawi is an extremely inexpensive place to live. Food is cheap; the most expensive entrée on the menu at our favorite restaurant can be had for the equivalent of US$1.20. To use the full services of downtown Kuah's Pelancongan Jetty-the dinghy dock, security, toilet, showers, and the like-costs 50 cents a day.
Long-term, supervised, in-the-water storage can be had up the river at a place cruisers call Hole-in-the-Wall for just over a buck a day; that includes fore-and-aft mooring and daily monitoring by an experienced local boatman.
There are three marinas on the island. Our favorite is at Rebak, where US$10 a day not only buys you a state-of-the-art modern marina slip but all the conveniences of a luxury resort as well. Carolyn loves the free cooking classes on Thursdays; I dig the gym.
There are three chandleries on the island, with weekly deliveries from West Marine and numerous other international marine suppliers. Best of all, there's absolutely no duty on anything for your vessel. We just mark it "Yacht Wild Card, in transit" and it sails unmolested through customs. Thus we paid not a penny in duty on our new mainsail, engine parts, and recent electro-doodads.
While the boat boys in the harbor aren't the bargain they are in Thailand, US$12 a day per will buy you a swarm of refinishers at the snap of a finger.
Two shipyards provide haulout facilities for everything from dinghies to mega-yachts. There are canvas makers, woodworkers, and even a modest sail-repair loft. (Longhaired Erika is Finnish and, perhaps, the loveliest sailmaker in the entire world. OK, it's true: I'm smitten.)