We continued sailing across the Java Sea, bound for Borneo, or Kalimantan as it’s known in Indonesian. On our way there I discovered some geographical facts I didn’t know. Borneo is the third largest island in the world, and it’s shared by three countries. Borneo seems to live in all of our imaginations for reasons that I can’t pinpoint. “In the deepest darkest jungles of Borneo…”

There are ships and fishing boats absolutely everywhere you look. At night the horizon lights up all the way around us. Even if you couldn’t see any boats as the sun was setting, the sea would shine after dark.

It often was less than 100 feet deep, and these boats were anchored like this as far as you could see.

Break time.

Into the Kapitan River we went on our way to Kumai. I got some cool drone shots as we motored north, right up until the last time I launched it and it suddenly sputtered as it left my hand and plopped right into the drink. That’s the third drone we’ve lost, and every time it has been while launching it underway. Ugh. Fortunately, drones are relatively inexpensive these days, and thee over the course of six years or so isn’t really all that bad. Still… frustrating!

The iconic skyline of Kumai, Borneo.

We arrived with our friends on Mandolyn, and we were here on a mission. This is the launching off point to go see the orangutans.

We had a couple of days to kill before heading off on our tour boat further into the jungle, so we explored the port city of Kumai. We got the impression they don’t see many tourists hanging around town. People generally fly in and head straight to the boats. Our tour operator, Nina, was a sweet lady, but seemed almost horrified that we were hanging out in town. She desperately wanted to take us to the “nicer” nearby city of Pangkalan Bun where we could eat at Kentucky Fried Chicken or an American style cafe. She underestimated the hidden treasures we could uncover in Kumai, though.

Walking around town, searching for dinner. Google maps is not your friend in places like this. The first two restaurants we visited were closed up.

Walking down the main street we weren’t really looking for anything more than a couple of tables we could sit our group at. We found the spot, did some translating, and ordered up.

The couple whipped up some fresh hot plates of food, and some cold iced tea, while we all ignored the incredibly large cockroaches scurrying down the sidewalk. Dinner was a success, and at $10 for the eight of us there was no arguing over the bill either.

The brand new Bingxue ice cream place in town. We all agreed that working here would be the best job in all of Kumai, just for the air-conditioning.

There are countless shops/stands like this everywhere we go. I always find myself trying to work out the economics of them, and thinking how impossible it must feel to ever come out ahead.

Our agent (for the orangutan tour) knew what cruisers like us need. She was able to get us diesel, which despite all the boats and ships, is not readily available. It feels like we may never see an actual fuel dock ever again. She also offered us free rides to the city to reprovision at the big grocery store. We asked her to drop us off at the town park, which she was loathe to do, but eventually did.

The park wasn’t exactly a hive of activity.

We stocked up on a few groceries, though in truth there was very little at the hypermart for us Westerners. Fruits and veg are about the extent of it, but those are usually available just about anywhere we find ourselves. And we always seem to have the rice and beans needed for concocting a meal. It’s the day-to-day snack foods that we struggle to find when we’re off in places like this.

Back in Kumai that night, we were on the hunt for dinner again.

We actually walked through here thinking there might be a restaurant at the back along the waterfront. This was some sort of kitchen we wandered right through the middle of, but we could find no signs of a restaurant.

We circled the block a few times before I made the executive decision that the yellow place was going to be it for the night. The smiling proprietor was happy to have us join him, though he apologized that he would have to make fresh chicken for us and it would be a few minutes. We were thrilled by that, and ordered up our iced teas and settle in to wait.

Doug is quite an anomaly in a country full of small people. At about 6′ 5″ he is often singled out for photographs with the locals who think he is some sort of giant. He’s also prone to hitting his head a lot, which is what we were all laughing about at this moment, right after he put a fresh dent in his skull.

In goes the fresh chicken.

And out it comes.

The adults all got the “smash chicken” which basically gets whacked a couple of times with a big dull knife. But the beauty of this smash chicken was you got to choose the intensity of the sambal (hot sauce) on top. On the menu was listed levels, 3, 5, 7, 9, 15, 21, 30, and the prominently displayed record of 91. Ali and I are pretty hardcore when it comes to spice, but we only went with the 5 here. It was amazing. I feel like I could have maybe handled a 9, but that would have been pushing smoke out of my ears. When we laughed with the chef about the 91 later he told us it was mostly sambal with just a bit of chicken on top.

Dinner out in Kumai costs about $1-$2, which leaves plenty of budget space for nightly trips to the Bingxue for air-conditioning… and ice cream. 15k = $1

And that’s a wrap on another day in Kumai, Borneo. This is the town dock where we’d tie up the dinghies. Off to the right in this picture is Bumfuzzle, anchored out in the river.