Shipwrecked... Marooned... Destined for Greatnesses

From left to right: South Africa (Adeena), America (Jon), Netherlands (Luke) Czech Republic (Helena), Estonia (Tom)

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Marooned on a deserted island at sunrise… our final liters of water beguiling us. Netherlands had suffered hallucinations all night, his feet ripped by coral, his leg swollen from an unfortunate collision with a jellyfish. Czech Republichad heat stroke. America and Estoniaweren’t in good repair either; I struggled to perform the basic skill of standing. It had been pouring with rain all night and we were all exhausted.....

Only ten days earlier we’d sat staring into the islandly abyss as the sun ducked behind a distant land and we’d decided we needed a boat. 

It turns out boats are pretty expensive – who knew? And that’s why we begged, borrowed and bought everything we needed to build one. We figured a day or two of hard labour would have us sailing in no time, but 8 days of sweat and toil later we were finally ready. Or at least we thought we were.

We decided we’d sail all the way into Thailand and, because there’s no way to legally do this on a self-constructed raft; we appropriately named the vessel ‘The Illegal Immigrant.’ And she was beautifully immigrantish.

We sailed and paddled and swam and visited beautiful islands and life was perfect! Surreally perfect! Until about 4pm that was… At 4 the winds picked up. Czech told us she kept hearing snapping noises – we assured her we were fine, perfectly perfectly fine. 

And then we watched our first barrel float away.

I dived in and chased it across the sea and when I finally reached it I realized there was no possible way I could actually bring it back and, worse – I realized the current was dragging us into an infinite harbor wall… the waves were crashing violently against the wall and our little Immigrant didn’t stand a chance. With a barrel gone there was no steering; we had twenty minutes tops to abandon ship.

A golden island beach glistened in the distance and so, with all our belongings tied to us, with all the food and water we could carry, and with a make shift life jacket keeping Czech afloat, we started the swim. A good two and a half hour swim [- sing- talk- do anything to keep our minds off the incessant swimming] later we were battling the coral and dragging our belongings onto the shore.

Excitement and amazement as we reached the shore alive!

And that wasn’t the end of it either… the storm was closing in fast and our island held nothing but rocks and trees and crabs and sand and so, using sticks and ropes and the remains of our sail, we constructed a shelter and a fire and huddled together trying desperately to warm ourselves and recuperate.

We drifted in and out of sleep as the wind howled and the torrents poured down and lightning flashed and crabs attacked our toes and by sunrise we were desperately plotting our escape.

Netherlands and I etched ‘SOS’ ‘HELP’ into the sand while Estonia and Czech tried to flag down passing fisherman and America tried to reach civilization. But nobody paid any attention to us as we yelled and waved and whistled and every time hope glistened, it turned and fled in the wrong direction.

Just before noon we watched a skipper pulling around the corner with a very fatigued America onboard. He’d rounded our island, swam to the next, walked through the middle of that one, and found a small private resort with a boat… Our rescue boat. We were saved!

Our rescue boat

They returned us to the realer world a lot faster than we’d left it. where we all ventured off in search of new adventures [And the hospital].

And it's amazing how life brings you around in circles, but today, 6 months later, I'm back in Malaysian waters, building a new sort of boat... Let's hope this time's a little [or a lot] less shipwrecky!

For the very professional photos of the story, visit http://www.iisource.net/malaysiaweb/index.html

5 Years as a Gypsy Girl

No child ever dreams of growing up to be a gypsy... In fact, personally I wanted to be a pirate... or a mermaid... or a, hmmmm, I forget ... PLANS CHANGE!

In fact, by the end of university I planned to start an empire and retire by 30 with 7 children and a white picked fence, a few llamas, and a husband who puts the Hoff to shame. 

Back in 2007 I agreed to explore deepest darkest Africa with a few friends - head out into the abyss and see what happened... 3 - 6 months MAXIMUM and then...

You experience all these weird and interesting cultures...

Bahar Darar, Ethiopia

You find ancient castle ruins

Gondor, Ethiopia

You  see snow for the first time in your life...

Mt Kenya, Kenya

Summit of Mt Kenya

You meet masses of incredible people...

Lake Malawi

 You sit for hours staring into beautifulnesses...

Malawi

 And although it happens every day, you're always breath taken by yet another perfect sunrise or sunset...

Sunrise over Lake Malawi

You learn how best to appreciate ancient relics...

Lallibella, Ethiopia (There's amazing rock-hewn churches too)

 And go to places most people only read about...

Lake Nakuru, Knya

Next thing you know, you've been contaminated by the innumerable wonders of the world, you've got a lethal case of the travel bug and you end up a gypsy.

I ENDED UP A GYPSY. 

As a gypsy, I followed my routes back to the start of gypsism, in Europe...

Paris, France

Venice, Italy

Stone henge, England

And then my baby brother was concerned that I'd acquired an Australian accent and talked me into a long drive. So we bought a car and started driving.

and we drove into Asia...

And we drove through Canyons....

Charyn Canyon, Kazakhstan 

 And we drove through snow...

Mongolia

 And we accidently camped in animal graveyards...

And visited places that were illegal for tourists....

The door to Hell, Turkmenistan

 And every now and then we broke down...

3 flat tyres at once, Mongolia

 But we raced through 17 500 + KM of awesomeness....

And finally we made it to Ulaanbataar

And a flick of the coin dictated I visit China next...

The Night food market in Beijing

And an expiring visa led me to South East Asia...

Cambodia, 2009

 And I got a semi-addiction to hitch hiking....

And I hitched across Southern Africa and Australia

Lickng the Sydney opera house, Australia

And I aquired my longest standing travel buddy yet

The deterioration of a giant Teddy over 6 months of good life 

And I motorbiked across Vietnam

And cycled across South East Asia

And got lured into all sorts of wild adventures...

Buiding a raft, Malaysia

Sinking a raft

Shipwrecking on a deserted island

I've seen things most will never see, licked things most will never lick and had the best years of my life. But I never planned to be a gypsy...

At 27 I find myself homeless, unemployed, and single; and a lot of it's been tough, but I wouldn't change a thing. I have no idea what the next 5 years - or even the rest of the week - hold; But whatever happens, I plan to make the most of it... I hope you'll be doing likewise!

To be [kidnapped] or not to be [kidnapped]

“If you travel by bus in the Zamboanga peninsula, you may not get kidnapped, but if you keep doing it, eventually you will.” 

 “The only reason I am alive today is because my family fled Zamboanga when I was young.” 

 “It is too dangerous for you, do not go there…” 

 “You don’t like your life then?” 

 I do like my life, I like it quite a very lot, but there’s only one ferry that runs between Borneo and the Philippines, and that ferry leaves from Zamboanga.

I’ve spent hours trying to find a ferry schedule for the crossing, and the internet and travel forums all list different companies… not only are there no schedules or contact details or even [in most cases] websites, but none of them seem to exist anymore. The only things that kept popping up were travel warnings and news on the most recent kidnappings and bombings. When I finally got through to the Zambo tourism board I was transferred and transferred again and then: “I am sorry to inform you mum (all woman are called ‘mum’, which is their way of saying ma’am) that ferry services have been suspended” - “For how long?” - “Until at least August mum, probably even September maybe” – “Is there any other way to cross to Malaysia? Fishing boats or private boats??” “Please wait mum” So I waited and waited and waited and then “Hello mum if you are still being there then you can be trying this number…” Transfer. Transfer. Transfer. “Ok mum, call +63 2 ……..” And then I finally had success.

S/V Damaica Joy

The economy class beds

Because there is NO other info on the net; if you’re planning to do the trip yourself, Aleson Ferries have two trips weekly – Monday and Thursday – Passport stamping at 8am (but in reality more like 11:30 or 1pm), departure 2 pm (Although the ticket says 12 and if there are a lot of illegals about, you'll only leave after 6pm and have to be locked into a room that closely resembles a prison). The trip takes 23 hours and costs between 3100 (for a open air bunk, or 3200 for aircon) and 3500 depending on your class preferences (Call 0063 (062) 992 5507 and speak to Mae) and for a change it’s more expensive (4700 and up) if you are local…

So last night, after an epic day of white water rafting in Cagayan Da Oro, I headed to the bus station and endured more “But mum it is so very dangerous for you,” “I will pray for you mum”, “Are you sure mum?” and I will admit being a little scared when strangers were asking “and what is your currency in Africa? The Euro?” “You travel alone?” “Will you be meeting anyone there?” “Mum, do you carry a weapon?” And it was even more scary when people asked if I spoke Basilica and then proceeded to talk about me on countless cellphones spotted across the bus. But, once again, when it is your time to go, it is your time to go.



And fortunately that 14 hour bus ride was not my time to exit the planet and the back ally hotel (L'mirage Pension House – P300 for a single, just up the road from Hermosa) that took me in was less than a third of the price of the others and they’ve assured me I’d be fine and welcomed me into their family, but they still make me wear a turban and pretend like I’m from Pakistan and they walk with me in the middle of them and it’s like I have my own personalized body guards for the first time in my life.

Only once did I have a gun pointed at me, right at my forehead, and my heart stopped for a while until the man smiled and said "it's just plastic mum."

 I’m proud to remain unkiddnapped as of yet (hoorah!!) and tomorrow (after an evening karaoke session) I set sail for Borneo (I think) and well, if all
goes according to plan, I’ll be converting to vegetarianism by the end of the week which is exactly why I’m ending this blog here and going to join my temporary family for Sunday roast chicken.

Just 5 of the family of 35 that I stayed with

I'd like to add that I did make it out alive but it was really hard to leave, I've never met so many lovely people (who have been the closest thing to family since, well, actual family, and the city is truly amazing - full of smiling people and churches and a "musically gyrating dancing fountain" and it's DEFINITELY worth a visit!

I've just arrived in Borneo, and this time I was NOT to be kidnapped and I seriously doubt you would have been either...