From Singapore Strait to Singapore Streets – Warships and Water Shows

by Klara Braga Jakobsen

Crossing the Singapore Strait

On the 14th of September, we finally reached Singapore Strait. It was now time to say goodbye to Indonesia, where we had been sailing for the past year, and start our next adventure, sailing up through Malaysia’s west coast in the Malacca Strait.

We left Ayerraja Island, where we had been anchored up for the night, at first light. We wanted to time it right to have the tidal current, which was running strong this close to a full moon, with us for the crossing.

I had been across the strait once before when sailing onboard Wandoo seven years prior, but as I was then a complete novice Sailor, having spent only a couple of days at sea, I think I was rather oblivious to the hazards the crossing posed.

But Malacca, along with Singapore Strait, is one of those places you hear an awful lot of awful things about. Not only is it one of the busiest shipping channels in the world, seeing about 100.000 ships transit each year, but it is also known to be an area with one of the highest lightning rates in the world. The lightning is often a product of severe squalls known as Sumatras, named so as they are formed over the Indonesian Island of Sumatra, which bring with them heavy rains and wind speeds of up to 40 knots, and sometimes last for many hours.

So, I would lie if I said that we were not both a little nervous leading up to the crossing, but at the same time we had a feeling that the strait might be reputed to be a little worse than it is, as we know so very well how sailors love to exaggerate for the sake of a better story.

As we were approaching the Strait, we were both in attendance, keeping a constant watch on the plotter and the horizon. Here the strait was about 9 miles wide, so we could expect the crossing to take about two hours depending on how many ships we had to dodge.

But here is how it went: Right as we entered the shipping lanes, it seemed that there was suddenly a huge gap in the traffic allowing us to cross effortlessly only giving way to a single Ship. Once through we could not help laughing at our good luck, who would have thought that it could be this easy to cross the notorious Singapore Strait?

But of course, we should have known better than to count our winnings so early, for while all our attention had been on the shipping traffic, we had forgotten about one other thing which too can turn the Strait into a nightmare.
Now we were on a lee shore, against the coast of Malaysia with its jumble of Industrial port structures, and off it; hundreds of giant ships on anchor, through which we had to pass. And it was then Singapore Strait decided to show its teeth.

The front came in from the southwest like a blanket being pulled over the strait and the sky turned dark. The wind picked up awakening a terrible confusion on the sea and bringing with it rains so heavy the world around us disappeared.
It is no easy deal to pass through such serious an obstacle course in these conditions, and it was a tense couple of hours, as we slowly made our way, zigzagging through the giant ships, whereof some turned out to be moving.

The only thing which brightened our moods was when on several occasions we got encouraging cheers and waves from the crew of a ship spotting us from the deck high above, as we passed close behind its stern.

It is hard to describe the feeling of passing so close to such an enormous ship, where the size of your boat compares to its rudder. The sound of the ship, a deep rumble, and that of your own motor echoing off its hull towering high up above you. And if you spot a human, a tiny figure like a tin soldier, he only accentuation the true scale of it all. To give you an idea; some of these ships are as long as 400 meters.

Chased by a warship

It was a little after midday when we finally arrived at the mouth of Johor Strait and were able to turn our stern to the waves. Here we sighed with relief, for now surely the drama was over.

But again, we were wrong, for sneaking around the anchored cargoes, was a mischievous Warship, who must, for the lack of war, have been a little bored, for suddenly he came to play.

Appearing out of nowhere, suddenly we saw it heading straight for us, and it took only seconds before it was within almost a Black Duck-length of our stern. Expecting they wanted our attention, we waited for their call on the radio or signal from the wheelhouse, but nothing was heard. And it was not until Riley attempted to steer away from their course following my panicked instructions as I watched the direction of the Warship, that we realized that they were intentionally playing with us, for whichever way we steered they steered too.

I threw my arms in the air and sent a dreadful look towards the bridge deck where it seemed the whole crew had come to watch us, but only after driving our heart rates to a galloping pace, they finally veered off to one side. And as they went away, I am sure I saw them laughing.

Like this, we arrived in Malaysia.

This was the last we saw of the warship, though unfortunately not the last we saw of its soldiers who, two days later, decided to pay us a visit.

It was 01.00 o’clock when we abruptly woke to the horrific sound of a revving engine just outside. Afraid that we were about to get run down by a huge ship, we jumped out of bed and rushed out into the cockpit only in T-shirts and underwear. At first, it was hard to know what was going on with the bright spotlight blinding us. But when they stopped shining it in our faces, we saw a small troop in the cockpit of a speed boat. “You cannot park here,” one said in an unusually unfriendly tone, his antagonism amplified by the machine gun he was holding across the front of his body. “this is Navy Base territory”
After discussing for a while, for despite their antagonizing appearance, we were tired and grumpy enough to argue, we were told to move upriver only another 500 meters.
Why they had decided to tell us this in the middle of the night and after having seen us here for 2 days already, and why they had to do it with machine guns, baffled me, but when I again heard them laugh as they left to go give another boat the same waking, I understood, this too was for their entertainment.

They waited around as we pulled up anchor, which we did in the slowest manner possible to see if we might manage to bore them instead. It seemed to work, for they gave up and left before we had the anchor up and never saw us move our 400 meters up the river.
And such was our tiny retribution.

Back in the Strait

After three days at Tanjung Pengelih, we had successfully cleared into the country and refilled fuel and water tanks and were ready to go again. But as we had arrived in Malaysia to the east of Singapore, we had to go back into the strait and follow it the entire way around Singapore to reach Malaysia on the other side in the Malacca Strait. We were not looking forward to going back out among the cargoes and warships, and when we woke to a terrible squall from the west, we decided to wait another day. And I am glad that we did, for the wind and rain did not let up for the rest of the day. Now we were starting to get an idea of the severity of the squally weather.

The following day we woke up to a gentle breeze from the south, a sky almost empty of clouds, and a promising forecast.
It was still dark when we pulled up anchor and motored past the Navy Base and the thousand lights from the gasworks onshore and its giant flames flickering in the sky like a bushfire.
And by the time we again went zigzagging among the anchored cargoes the sun started rising and the shimmering lights from the gasworks faded leaving it yet again an enormous steel skeleton against the morning sky.

As the day went on and the current picked up, we started moving at a good pace, racing past each busy port of Singapore, keeping a close eye on the chart to avoid accidentally drifting across the Singaporean border, which was heavily patrolled.
Our first day crossing the Strait was nothing in comparison to this, for now, we were passing the busiest ports of Singapore, where the predictable order of the shipping lanes was broken by a confusion of arriving and departing ships moving in every direction, sometimes requiring us to suddenly make a 180-degree turn and motor in the opposite direction to avoid getting run down.

And so, the day went by, the traffic never-ending and we were both stunned at what we saw. How could such a small nation like Singapore, even if it was one of the richest and most densely populated countries in the world, have such an amount of import and export as we were here seeing signs of. And even more bewildering was the fact that on the other side of the Strait lay Indonesia, one of the largest populations in the world, and in contrast saw hardly any ships arriving.
We later learned that over 35 million containers go through Singapore each year, a confounding number when you compare it to their small population of only about 2.6 million people.

The run-down Marina at Country Gardens

That evening we arrived at the Country Garden Development in Denga Bay in Johor 10 miles up the Johor Strait which separates Malaysia and Singapore. We had heard rumours of an old marina where we might find a cheap berth for a few nights while making a trip across the Causeway to Singapore.
After all, we had seen on the outside, there was no question, we had to see the inside of this extravagant trading hub.

Country Garden was a strange place. At a distance, it looked kind of fancy, but when we got close, we noticed the mildew on the walls of the giant high rises, the green line of algae and diapers along the beach, the fishy smell from the nearby fish farms and the sound of hundreds of crows scavenging the shore. We now also realized the true state of the marina, which appeared to be sinking in various places and missing planks in the boardwalks. There were also a handful of boats tied up here, which, all but one Trash-Collector, looked entirely abandoned, covered in green mould and bird pooh.

But when we spoke to the manager of the beach bar to which the marina belonged, and he had no objections to letting us stay for a couple of nights free of charge, we did not mind the pathetic state of it all, for this meant we could now afford to make a short visit to Singapore.

An impression of Singapore

Already the next day we were on a bus to Singapore. Our friend James, a Singaporean Cop, whom we had met a few weeks prior on a beach in Lombok, had been so very kind to book us a hotel room for the night. We had hoped to meet him there, but unfortunately, we had timed our arrival terribly as it had landed on the exact date he was flying to England. So we were on our own finding answers to our many questions about this curious place.

That our first observation of Singapore should be of its rubbish and cigarette butts laying scattered around the streets is probably due to the fact that Singapore is renowned to be so exceptionally clean. And when we saw a man hawk a big mouthful of spit and land it in the middle of the footpath, even we could not help but be offended.
I’m not sure if I was disappointed or relieved that, away from the city centre and its glamorous designs, Singapore was just like any other city, full of life and activity and all the mess which comes with it.

The first thing we did after arriving, was to go look for food, and when we passed by a bustling food court we stopped to explore. Here we bought three different dishes to try, whereof one was a plate of white, sluggish, rice balls which to our great disappointment turned out to be fish flavoured. Of the many different southeast Asian cuisines to which we have now become so happily accustomed, the Chinese just seem to keep surprising.

But I do not want to bore you with the particulars of our sightseeing, so I will cut straight to the apex of the exploration when all the impressions of the day’s experiences came together to shape for us a picture of what Singapore might be about.
Our explorations, which had taken us to the incredible cloud dome, the super-trees and their vertical gardens, the helix bridge and the Louis Vuitton Store with its perplexing fashions, ended at the evening light show.

The show took place on the water viewed from the esplanade at Marina Bay Sands, at the foot of that famous building which looks like a kind of sausage laid across three high-rises, with a backdrop of a gleaming city of steel and glass.
It involved colourful diagrams created by light projected onto the water from numerous fountains cascading and shooting into the air in tall jets and perfect arches to a sound of a dramatic symphony.

As soon as it started, I felt the hairs all over my body stand up. At first, it was subdued, with only a few fountains spurting water, gentle lights and calm music. But over the span of the show, the intensity kept building until all the fountains were in action, the lights and colours were dancing vividly, and the orchestra was coming to a climax with a grand operettic vocal.

Then a colourful bird with long tailfeathers appeared, flying around in beautiful arches projected on the explosion of spraying water. And suddenly it seemed obvious, the meaning of it all: That bird was Singapore, flaunting her glamorous feathers to the world which is undoubtedly watching, her dance; a symbol and an example of what you can do and what you can look like, with such prosperity as she has.

And as I thought this, an overwhelming feeling of appreciation came over me. It suddenly all seemed so important as if it was a core purpose of life itself; the efforts of creating incredible things, such as this light show, for the pure intentions of awakening in those who are watching, emotions of excitement and awe. And it was employing all the tricks which work so effectively to make us feel, such as beautiful visuals, dramatic music, technology, symmetry, colours, lights and rhythm. It was the perfect stimulation of human emotion and a perfect symbol of our human passion for beauty, and I for one had goosebumps the entire way through.

You might think that this is a bit of an overreaction to a mere street theatre, but after having just spent a whole year sailing to some of the most rural islands in Indonesia, this was a culture shock.
I think I realized right then just how isolated we live, that we could become so astonished by the world which happens all along on the land.

It is easy to look at it all, the 100.000 ships and the 35 million containers and think, this is all too much. But when we stood on the inside and looked at everything around us, the gleaming high-rises, the gardens, the fashions and the light shows, we could suddenly see where it was all going.

And so lucky were we, to have been granted a look at the mechanisms which drive the society and a lifestyle which so many of us take for granted. What we saw in the strait was the cost of the comfort, the freedom, the luxuries and the arts of our developing world. And it does not only concern Singapore, for when you look around you, but much of what you see; the materials which make up the place where you live, most of what you own and much of what you eat have also come via a container such as these.

And in the end, I was left with a thought; whether you look at our modern society with all its materialism and opulence with appreciation or contempt, there is no disputing that what we have created is nothing less than incredible.

Thank you for Reading!

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Planning a trip through Singapore or Malacca Strait, see our MALAYSIA CRUISING GUIDE, for lots of good information about anchorages and tips about weather and navigation.

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