Events of Tuesday 6th May 2014
Today was a day for travelling. First, downstream by river to Sittwe, then a flight with Air KBZ to Yangon for my last but one night at the Strand Hotel before flying home.
I set the alarm for 06:15 but, in fact, I got up just before six, had a shower, made a cup of tea and finished my packing. The plan was to leave at seven o’clock from the hotel jetty by private hotel boat back to Sittwe, taking breakfast on the journey. Well, they came to collect me from my room just after seven and we walked to the jetty and I clambered aboard the same boat I’d arrived in.
A breakfast table for one had been set on the main deck. We’d boat crew, hotel and catering staff and my guide aboard. I always feel guilty about all these people hanging around at my pleasure but the positive side is that at least a number of jobs are provided through tourism in a country suffering extreme poverty.
Soon the unmistakable sound of an electric starter motor failing to engage with the flywheel of the Hino 6-cylinder diesel engine mounted beneath the main deck was heard. They tried a second time and then a number of mechanics appeared. I presume the chief mechanic was the guy carrying an assortment of double-ended side spanners and a hammer. A couple of them clambered down into the engine compartment and remarkably quickly re-appeared clutching the starter motor. They took this to the adjacent boat and a lot of hammering followed. They eventually re-appeared with what appeared to be the starter motor from the other boat. There was then a lot of banging from our engine compartment.
Mechanics cluster anxiously around our engine compartment.
The waiter asked if I’d like to take breakfast. I assume that he, like me, didn’t know how long the repair would take. I had tea, with cold milk, and a selection of bread with preserves. This was followed by a plain omelette. I was just tucking into my omelette when there was an ominous ‘click-click-click' from the new starter motor. After a short delay whilst further adjustments were made, there was a loud roar as the diesel engine came to life. Two plumes of water were being discharged powerfully sideways from just above the waterline. I presume one was engine cooling water, the other might have been bilge pump but I’m not sure (we were carrying an independent portable pump which appeared to be rigged as an ‘as required’ bilge pump).
We cast off about 50 minutes late but my guide assured me we had plenty of time. We were expected to make better time downstream, going with the current.
After a while, the captain decided to make a power check, raising the engine speed for a while. My guide said he was unsatisfied with the result and suspected that the propeller was fouled. The engine was idled and drive removed. Then the crew lifted a series of boards on the main deck near the stern, revealing a rectangular access to the water. I was viewing from the upper deck. The river viewed through the hatch was an almost luminous green and looked quite inviting. Just as well, because one of the crew, clad only in a longyi, lowered himself through the hatch and swam underwater to reach the propeller.
Looking down into the river, the tanned body of the underwater swimmer is just visible.
Soon, a large, tattered plastic bag drifted astern, followed shortly by a woven plastic sack and two more remnants of plastic bags. I was intrigued that this debris was cast adrift to wreak its havoc on some other unsuspecting motor boat.
After this interesting interlude, we seemed to make better speed and continued down the wide, twisting river towards Sittwe. The area was not unlike the Irrawaddy, with farmed flatland on both banks, trees and water buffalo.
View across the farmed land to the distant mountains, with water buffalo grazing or keeping cool in the water. Note the hayrick.
We passed isolated bamboo cottages, each with one or more traditional wooden longboats, some provided with the usual small engine driving a propeller through a long shaft, some just paddled. At one point, we passed a larger village of about thirty bamboo houses with a pagoda and solidly-built adjacent temple.
A typical bamboo cottage, with a number of longboats. Harvested bamboo is being built into a 'raft', presumably before shipping it for sale on the river.
As it started to warm up, the crew and hotel staff took advantage of the opportunity to doze. A little later, they decided to deploy part of the awning on the upper deck. There was a substantial wooden framework carrying a square mesh of ropes. From somewhere, they retrieved a large rather threadbare sheet which they extended across the supporting rope matrix, tying it off at crucial points. More sheets would have been necessary to cover the whole upper deck, but the single sheet gave some shelter to the helmsman and, by moving my table and chair, also me. As the hot sun beat down, it was a distinct improvement.
Installing the awning on the upper deck.
From time to time, we passed various other boats using this important waterway. The Myanmar Ministry of Transport is responsible for Inland Water Transport which operates a significant fleet of passenger and freight vessels. We passed a rather care-worn 'Government Ferry' operating the Sittwe-Mrauk U service.
A 'Government Ferry' on the Kaladan River.
From a boat, you get fascinating glimpses of life along the river. Near a rather dilapidated bamboo house, an equally dilapidated wooden boat was under repair. Damaged planks were being replaced but, when we passed, the two workmen were engaged on rigging an awning over the work, suspended from four bamboo poles. Two young boys were with the workmen and they waved as we passed.
Erecting an awning over a wooden boat under repair.
My lunch was served on the main deck. I took a picture of the attractively-presented dessert.
The attractively-presented dessert.
About 5 km before Sittwe, we passed a port on our right with an array of warehouses, and a number of boats of various sizes clustered around an ocean-going ship moored at a decent jetty. My guide said this location handled imports and exports with Bangladesh.
The port near Sittwe.
Nearing Sittwe, we passed a Naval Gunboat moored to an offshore buoy before we turned to starboard to enter Sakrokeya Creek to reach the boat yard where I'd joined the boat just three days previously. I'd had so many wonderful experiences in those three days, it felt more like three weeks. This time, the dilapidated wooden jetty was occupied by a large wooden cargo boat. A second, smaller boat was moored alongside the cargo boat and a third wooden boat had moored at right angles. It took a minute or two for us to tie-up to the second boat so that we were three-abreast. This meant that I had to 'run the gauntlet' of crossing to the second boat, stepping up to the large wooden cargo boat and then using a temporary board which had been laid between the cargo boat and the notorious jetty to facilitate loading the cargo boat. There were plenty of helping hands so, before I knew it, I and my luggage were installed in the waiting vehicle with my guide and we were driving out of the shipyard.
Arriving back at the boat yard in Sittwe.
My Pictures
Mrauk U Princess Resort.
By Boat back to Sittwe.
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[Revised 5-Jun-2014]
