Penang—

“… And the dish ran away with the spoon…” But that’s not where the nursery rhyme ends. If anything, it is just the beginning. Where the dish and the spoon wound up was a small place in Malaysia named Penang, where they opened a thousand small food stalls, each with their own unique flavor, taste, and style. A foodie equivalent to a roman orgy of Asia, Portugal, India, Arabia, and the West — all inside your mouth (tasty!). Overwhelming to the tongue, intoxicating to the stomach, addictive to the mind. I’ve found myself eating fish stomach and asking for seconds. Walking to food stalls that I was certain would give me incurable diseases that only gave me an eye-opening taste of the best food I’ve ever had. It’s too bad the fork and knife stayed behind, they missed out.

Now, why I am here, what happened with the boat?

One of the most valued traits a traveler (and any human really) can have is a keen attention to their surroundings, and the behavior of those they must interact with and rely upon. This is true of walking down the street in dangerous places (using common sense and not getting mugged), and especially the case on a boat.
Many things can go wrong on the open waters, even when anchored in place. Countless men have died at sea because they simply put the wrong knot in a line, or chose the wrong rope for the wrong type of water or conditions. The seemingly most trivial of things can, through unfortunate events, turn what on land is ‘not big deal’ into ‘nearly fatal’ when on the waters. In this case, I found myself on a boat with a fellow helper (just two of us while the captain was away for a couple months) who’s constant desire to get laid, and love of alcohol was put above the safety and well being of his fellow shipmates (me).

To the point that I found myself stranded on the boat for nearly 13 hours while he docked the dinghy 300 meters from shore, and myself stuck on the boat with low supplies and in the midst of torrential downpours of rain. I had to make a very quick decision about what the implications of this could be in slightly different circumstances. At day break I chose to get on the next ferry to nearest big city, Penang canceling my duties on the boat and trusting my instinct and intuition until I can work with more seasoned sailors. The most inept sailor can cause doom for man, and my fate does not end on the floor of the open sea.

Penang, by comparison, is like walking into a wonderland of culture and history. It is far more expensive than Langkawi, certainly more urban, but no less beautiful. By some luck, I found myself living in the penthouse suite of a 37 story building along the shoreline.

The owners, a charming older dutch couple, one who has lived here for some 29 years. I am also accompanied by two cats, one named ‘Pretty’ who has become my sidekick, the other Kieko, who is the brooding tomcat that occasionally sequesters me for a proper chin scratch and ass rub.