Dick Bergsma was born in a small city in central Holland.
His childhood was peaceful and rather uneventful, his oldest
memories being fighting evil forces in the forests around
his house. From the age of 18, he spent most of his time in
Amsterdam, earning an MA in philosophy. He subsequently taught
philosophy at higher educational institutes for social and
medical workers, translating philosophical texts into Dutch
and guiding groups on tours to the Middle East. In his thirties
he backpacked around the world in the late 1970s, spending
one and a half years in Asia and Africa.
Where did you get interested in sailing?
While traveling through Indonesia in my travels, I experienced
first hand the difficulties of journeying to the Outer Islands.
Then one day I visited the traditional harbor of Sunda Kelapa
in Jakarta and booked a trip to Jambi, in southeast Sumatra,
on a Bugis pinisi. That voyage started my dream of exploring
the largest archipelago in the world by sea.
Have you done a lot of sailing?
Apart from Indonesia , the only other region I sailed was
the Caribbean, a schooner trip from Trinidad to Curacao. But
what I experienced did not compare in any way to Indonesia
in terms of authenticity, hospitality and diversity of cultures.
I then decided to really focus on Indonesia and the country
has since offered more than enough excitement and challenge
for me.
What were the difficulties you first faced in setting up your
company?
I came back to Indonesia in 1985 to start up Sea Trek, a cruising
business aboard pinisi. I was one of the first to promote
the concept of ‘traditional sailing’ to the captains
as the latest trend in Western tourism. But since I first
sailed the country in 1977, I noticed that many pinisi were
being powered by engines without mizzen masts. As I already
had convinced a group of people back in Holland to join a
test cruise aboard a real sailing ship, my initial idea needed
a quick adjustment. I could now only offer genuine sailing
at a higher price because passengers for available schooners
had to compete with cargo prices that had gone up because
of the cost of fuel.
What were those early days like?
In those years cargo boats were converted for passenger accommodation
by adding a plywood mandi and Mickey Mouse mattresses spread
out on deck. My complaints about rats and cockroaches onboard
were answered by the remark that the creatures were a part
of traditional sailing! One day in 1988, a press conference
was held on the subject of cruising all over Indonesia onboard
pinisi. After my glowing speech on the huge potential of Indonesia’s
wooden fleet going out to explore the innumerable islands
of the archipelago, with Western passengers actually paying
for the unique experience, the only question put to me was
’ “Why don’t they fly?” It was a new
trend indeed.
What do you like best about your job?
Meeting guests who book our cruises. These are most often
highly individualistic people who have done a lot of traveling,
who have very open minds, are sympathetic to all they meet
and are very receptive to new experiences. In my mind, they
are travelers in the best sense of the word and represent
the better half of mankind.
In your 21 years operating cruises, what are some of your
most unusual experiences with clients?
We had the famous Ushuaia TV team from France twice on board
our ship, making a film on Komodo dragons and the tribespeople
of Asmat. Having their star reporter, Nicolas Hulot, standing
for hours in a swaying crow’s nest while his cameraman
stood on the opposite mast waiting for the exact moment when
the sunset would create a halo around Nicolas’ head,
was extremely thrilling. I guess our most unique charter was
one arranged by a stubborn 72-year-old Belgian who was determined
to climb every mountain over 3000 meters that was located
within a band around the earth three degrees north and south
of the equator. We also had a group of ornithologists who
wished “to watch all the birds between Sulawesi and
Papua”.
In any of your trips, have your clients ever been in danger?
Once in the early nineties, sailing the Banda Sea, we got
stranded on the only reef in the middle of a huge stretch
of open water called Nil Desperandum (‘nothing to despair’).
The boat settled down and couldn’t be moved in any direction.
After 10 hours the guests were taken aboard by a passing fishing
boat and had a smooth sail to Bandaneira. For one American
female guest it was ‘the perfect shipwreck’ which
she wouldn’t have missed in a lifetime. The captain
explained the misfortune by ‘a fold’ in the paper
sea chart which prevented him from detecting the reef.
Is there anyplace in Indonesia where you have always dreamed
of going?
The Baliem Valley in central Papua, but it’s a bit difficult
to reach by sea.
For anyone interested in being considered for Siapa, please
contact : <pakbill2003@yahoo.com>
Copyright@2006 Al Hickey
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at www.BaliAdvertiser.biz
