Crossing The Straits of Melaka

from
Malaysia
to
Sumatra

30th August
to
1st September 

Preparing for the crossing

Preparation continue

We pile up the coast finally with our full contingent aboard - we number some 17 - including 4 Malaysian paddlers, 3 crew, a few spectators and our diehard Human Power Crew - Tim, Gary, Dean and Rich Scrivs. The hold that usually is piled high with the sad sight of mighty rainforest giant tree trunks is lightly laden this evening - 6 sea kayaks, 4 bikes, and a mountain of some 16 Carradice Panniers, and a smattering of Salomon Rucsacs and Camel Packs. Our Captain - 'Awi' seems quite happy as we motor out of the harbour mouth in darkness - the balmy heat and gentle lapping of the water a stark contrast to our departure from Dover. So too is Awi's driving technique - his left foot perches precariously on the tiller - his head pokes aloft from the cabin and instructions are relayed from the lookout navigator on the bow of the ship.

The plan behind the Support vessel is that it should lend an extra safety factor to our venture - however as we set out my mind is doing frantic somersaults; wondering whether this really was the best we could manage. Without radio, navigation lights, any sort of compass on board the timber barge - or any kind of back up power in case of engine failure in the straits my stomach begins to churn as we approach our night stop. Looking around the boat everyone is trying to stake a claim to a piece of the filthy dirty deck, and to get at least a couple of hours of shut eye. The skipper seems to revel in putting the boat broadside to the swell - and even in a fairly minor chop the boat pitches violently.

Our original plan had been to set off from the Malaysian coast at 04:00 - in order to tackle some of the crossing in darkness. I now realise that with the lack of equipment that we have this will be adding to the risks that face us - and the possibility of entering the Supertanker Highway of the Melaka traffic Separation Scheme before daybreak is something that at all costs must be avoided. Speaking to each of the members of the team we agree task responsibilities for the crossing - Gary; navigation and collision courses, Rich S; plotting our course, recording air pressure and video footage, Dean; feeding Andrew and myself with High5 Energy Drinks and Water, Tim preparing meals and snacks for us.

The assembled throng finally pipes down just after 1am - leaving us a few hours of sleep. Dozing out on deck seems quite idyllic beneath the stars - and a cool sea breeze wafts us into sleep. Mayhem breaks out just an hour and a half later though as the heavens open and we are unceremoniously soaked. Everyone scrambles to pile into the tiny cabin - and inevitably there is only just room for the 6 paddlers - and so the remainder of the team are left to a damp and uncomfortable night sitting fidgeting for any kind of tolerable position.

Time rolls along and finally my watch flicks on to 5am. Rather like an alpine climbing start - its one of those adrenaline charged reveilles which looking back one can't quite imagine how it was possible. Somehow though in the next hour we stumble around the deck making HPRTW1 and 2 ready. Awi through translation explains to us that we must set off from Linggi - which adds another few km's to our journey. He isconcerned about the small chop - and the possibility of riptides and whirlpools off Cape Rochard. I am becoming more concerned about the seaworthiness of our support boat than of our ability to make the crossing.

At 7:30 we find ourselves in the water - 4 Malaysian Paddlers - Amy, Jimmi, Razzak, and Mashita, and 2 Human Power Boys. The swell and the breeze have settled to quite tolerable proportions - and the skies are overcast. We set off to the encouraging shouts from the boat - the thrill of the open sea and the endless horizon await us - we're heading to Sumatra.

Andrew and I rally around our Malaysian friends trying to ascertain whether they are capable of what lies ahead. Two of their number look decidedly unhappy from the word go - and its not long until first Jimmy (unhappy about his preparations for the crossing) and then Mashita (sole female representative) have retired with nasty bouts of seasickness. Razzak and Amy however in their lightweight carbonfibre seakayaks power ahead - and look easily capable of the crossing.

We make our first tentative steps out into the unknown - Garmin GPS and deck mounted compass - fitted at P&H Sea Kayaks workshops back in the UK just before our departure. With heart in my throat and in a strangely alert condition I lead out the team into the shipping lanes. We make good progress and with the aid of the GPS system I can see that we are making some 7km per hour. Back in the English Channel 32km took us well over 10 hours - and that was with some concerted training - here we are slicing through the water solidly and making excellent time. The sea swell is no more than a metre as we set out - and indeed this diminishes through the course of the day. Tidal drift from the word go pulls us down to the south - although we follow a straight line bearing across to our destination Medang on Pulau Rupat. Running at around about 1 knot at its maximum we are not too troubled by this - especially as we know that later the tide will reverse to bring us back once again. The display on our Garmins (one on board and one mounted on my deck) shows our course - both intended and actual.

About 12km out Gary shouts over that we are entering the North shipping lane. The tiny moving blocks that we could see as we made training sorties from Melaka have indeed grown and are now close enough to see their form clearly. It seems that the Southerly Shipping lane is more busy - and so we take a pause for drinks before pushing on. Its not long and we see a huge silhouette loom up on our Southerly horizon - and as it edges steadily towards us we can make out a mighty bow wave and the blunt front end of a mighty supertanker. We can have no idea of how fast it is traveling - and certainly it is moving many times faster than us. We watch it for a few minutes and calculate by watching its angle relative to us that we are going to cross in front of it. Although we have probably at least a kilometre of clear water between us and it as we move across his bow - we still have our hearts pounding - and our paddling rate races. The mighty beast just keeps going - it probably hasn't even seen us. We joke about capsizing now - but we know it would be far from a funny situation. Edging forwards we are relieved to be able to make out the far side of the tanker - meaning that we have safely passed in front of his course and out the other side - we pause just long enough for a couple of pictures and a bit of film - before plodding onwards.

The support team scream and shout when they see a school of dolphins - we just manage a fleeting glimpse before they dive away. Our friends are the flying fish - who in a cross between dragonflies and sprats seem to pop out of the water - spread their wings and then buzz along the surface of the water just a couple of inches into the air for up to a hundred metres before dipping down again. The water is a perfect green now and from time to time I watch my paddle slicing through the water - the crystal clear is perfectly cut by the blade - creating a tiny whirlpool around its surface momentarily before I bring it out of the water for the next stroke.

A few more ships come and go in the southern shipping lane - but none as big as our first fearsome encounter - and as quickly as we entered the lanes we are once again out - our first hurdle overcome. With 30km on the clock we're going exceptionally well and our target arrival time is a straightforward 4:30pm - no problem! We duly make visual contact with Rupat Island - and are elated to find our speed increases as the day goes along. Andrew seems to suffer in the final stages with seriously depleted energy levels - but we both agree that although the crossing at 50km is a lot further than the channel - it has been nowhere near the fight that we encountered back in September.

Our final approach to the island is complicated somewhat by a communication problem with the Captain - who doesn't seem able to give a straight answer on our destination for the night. Aching limbs and low blood sugar levels combine to produce a torrent of angry words from me - I can't be doing with extras now - we just need to get out of the sun, get food, plenty of drinks and our head down. Our original estimate of 43km has been bumped up by 7km - but we still pull into the tiny village of Medang on the North East tip of the island well before nightfall.

Our tired minds and bodies can't really appreciate our savour the moment - but the guys on the support boat seem very excited that we have made it across the Straits. They make a huge fuss over us. Tim preparing food - Dean with drinks, Rich looking after gear and seeing if we need anything else and Gary recounting some of the day's funnier moments. Andrew and I can barely speak. Without the training that we had prior to the English channel this effort has exhausted us totally - and so we sit and just nod and do what Tim, Dean, Gary and Rich tell us to do. They run around tidying up the boat at the end of the day and sorting all of our gear out. We receive a rapturous welcome on Rupat Island - the locals are actually dumbstruck by the appearance of 4 sea kayakers (Amy and Razzak safely having made the entire crossing). We often on the journey have had the impression that we have been one of very few people to cycle through a place - but here we feel quite confident that there may really have never been a team of sea kayakers arrive here from Melaka. We have just enough time to force down a large plate of egg fried rice and a couple of cans of drink before we hit the sack - a little disturbed at the thought of tomorrow - another 40km of paddling.

06:30 and Richy Scivs is banging on our door - telling us its time to get going. We've arranged to meet the Malaysian Team at the boat now. They don't show - and so our early start seems to have been a little wasted. We wait until 8am - and decide to set sail without them - we shall see them out on the water.

We head out for an island named Pulau Babi - just off the larger mass of Rupat - and here we have arranged to meet the support boat - so Andrew and I begin the day just the two of us paddling unsupported. Our bubble is burst a little when we encounter a strong current face on - and our normal paddling speed of around 5 to 6 km/hr is whittled down to just 2.5. We wonder whether its actually worth continuing - and pause on the shore for the others to catch up. Happily by hugging the coastline for a while we manage to avoid the worst of the tide - and by the time we pull out again we're back up to a more sensible 5km/hr. We follow the northern edge of Rupat and are surprised to find a magnificent opal water, as we paddle beneath blue skies. The temperature rises - but now that we're well on our way to Dumai and mainland Sumatra we're happy enough to live with it.

We pause for a spot of lunch just in sight of the entrance to the channel that will lead us around the inside of the island. We catch our first distant glimpse of Sumatra - and Rich, Gary and Dean dive off the boat for a much needed refreshing swim. Sadly now Razzak has injured his shoulder and so we are reduced to a single surviving Malay who has made the whole crossing. Amy, in his quiet and unassuming way has without the slightest grumble paddled every stroke of the way - and is raring for more. With a spare kayak on board Gary decides to join us and so we paddle now with Mashita having rejoined us as well as Jimmi having recovered from Seasickness. A fantastic feeling of team spirit is around as we enter the main channel - and we know that tomorrow we shall complete our first leg of our seaborne adventure.

We struggle to understand the reasoning of the Malay team leaders who decide to drag their team back before the end of the challenge. We unload equipment from the boat for camping wild on the island tonight - Gary, Andrew and myself will sleep out here - whilst the others return with the Malaysians to ensure that they can return to meet the Chief Minister to give him a full debrief. It’s a sad sight as we watch them motor off into the sunset - Amy having his chance snatched away from him to become the first Malaysian to sea kayak from Malaysia to Dumai (Indonesian immigration proper) - we wave them off until they disappear from sight.

We, meanwhile are treated to a glorious end of day paddle with the running tide which carries us swiftly along - even with weary arms we manage 8km/hr. We take our night stop well before nightfall when we find a suitable beach. We don't want to be paddling in the dark - and so we pull up onto a sandy spot with a lone stilted hut. The family who live here are delighted to see us and treat us like royalty sharing everything they have - we wash from their freshwater well and are invited to sleep in their wooden hut. They have the most simple existence - without electricity, without even a road to their front door - just them, their small boat, their fishing nets, and their fresh water. We feel very at home and well looked after. In the morning we send the kids out paddling in our kayaks - which they jump at the chance of - they shriek with delight as they disappear off around the headland. We only grow a little concerned when we don't see them for a few minutes - and then we understand - the young boy returns with wet hair and frantically starts to bail my cockpit out - he has had an adventure in a capsizing sea kayak - but none the worse for wear!!!

We once again this morning (more by luck than judgement) are given a tremendous push by the tide and so we speed along making excellent progress. Leaving at 8, we have sped past the string of islands in the channel and have made our way over to Sumatra and into Dumai harbour area. We weave our way through the mighty oil tankers and into the main harbour. With very little energy left between us we struggle to find immigration - and are finally beaten when we discover that we have no money and no passports between us - Dean, Tim and Rich have these. So having hauled out our kayaks we collapse on the landing jetty to eat and sleep - our fatigue getting the better of us.

We are only interrupted by the intermittent arrival and departure of the Indomal Ferries back and forth to Melaka. We play a sweepstake on how many backpackers we will see - and are surprised to find a huge number come spilling out. We smile wearily at them and a brief thought surfaces on whether it might have been easier to put our bikes on the ferry .......... dont' even think about it! We wouldn't have had it any other way!