Now, after five years, I wonder what changed there, if anything. I still remember the day I joined that hunting boat, when all my  city-boy senses were shaken by the reality of the people living there. In a culture where, so charming, barter was still the way to ‘buy’, in the same time people were hunting one of the smartest and most beautiful creature in the ocean so their community could survive another day. That time I wanted the time to stop and nothing ever change there.

I advise the one who wants to watch the video, first to go back and read Local series – off season . The video is tough at some moments, containing scenes not easily to digest.

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– “I will do my best to find the dragon for you.” said the ranger, then turned to the narrow path to lead the group. He was carrying a forked stick on his sholder, the best defeat against the largest lizard in the world, the ancient survivor now only found on few islands of the Komodo national park.

Left to hatch alone, son of a mother that don’t even need a male to lay fertile eggs, the dragon offspring needs to run and hide in a tree and make it its nest for the following four years, just to hide from its cannibalistic family. And this is just the very first day of its life. It will take four years for it to get that large to loose the ability to climb trees, at the same time large enough to join its pack of adults on land. Easily reaching 2 – 3 meters in length and weighting some 50 –  70 kg, featuring  shark like teeth charged with a powerful poison and bacteria cocktail, no wonder the dragon easily took the top of the food chain on its islands. They eat anything that moves, however large buffalo and deer makes much better choice for a dragon that easily eats a meal weighting 80% of his body weight.  The only creature that kills an adult dragon is the human, but humans also started a conservation program and part of it they ask rangers not to feed the dragons so to turn them in an exhibit for the avid short vacation wildlife seeker.

– “Then what’s the catch with those large dragons laying lazy near the rangers’ house?’

Our guy smiled instead of saying a word. He balanced the forked stick in his hand.

– “You asked me about the stick, right? You know, a dragon will attack you swiftly but always runs straight . He needs to stop to turn. So if hunted, you never run in his line straight ahead. Always turn and run at a side then change direction sharply. Or you better carry this forked stick to stop it to attack you and your folks. ” Again, he smiles.

We’ve been lucky to spot those two dragons in the wild on Rinca. Luckily the forked stick was not needed, one dragon being to lazy to move and the other too passionate digging  for the eggs of an orange footed scrub-fowl.

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Fire and Faith:

The image of the volcano under the flames reminds me of the story:

It is every 100 years when Bali celebrates Eka Dasa Rudra. The Balinese priests calculate  the date in advance for what is, probably, the most important ceremony on the island. Eka Dasa Rudra is no less than the ceremony of purifying the entire world, and now it is the time for it: it is 17^th of March 1963. While the preparations were in the middle, the volcano woke up and shook the world.

A Balinese legend says that Agung is a replica of Mt. Meru, the central axle of the Universe and one of the main Hindu symbols. The first Hindus that stepped in Bali brought a whit of Meru and out of it Agung has raised to the sky. The Balinese people are of superstitious kind, for whom all symbols, myths and daemons are just a subtle part of the reality. When Agung started to smoke out and nervously shake the world, in the mother temple of Besakih located on the volcano slope, the priests gathered and decided that the date calculated for Eka Dasa Rudra was wrong and the Gods are sending their sign through the anger of Agung. A new date has to be calculated immediately and the ceremony postponed to the new date. President Sukarno, however, had some other plans. He already established the date for a visit at the ceremony, together with a group of foreign dignitaries. Against priests’ warnings and premonitions, the day for Eka Dasa Rudra didn’t change.

On 18^th of March 1963, in the middle of the ceremony and after more than a century of deep sleep, Agung erupted. More than 2000 persons had lost their life and many of the villages were swallowed by lava. On the volcano slope however, a miracle took place. Lava stopped by itself at couple of meters away from the Besakih temple, which was left unharmed by the disaster. For Indonesia world was shaking after that. 1965 meant the beginning of the civil crisis and two years later Sukarno’s regime fell. Only late on 1979 the ceremony of Eka Dasa Rudra was properly completed.

Fire and Water:

In 1942 the American cargo USAT Liberty was on its way from Australia to Philippines when a Japanese submarine stroke it with a torpedo, very close to Lombok straits. The captain tried to sail the damaged ship to the port of Singaraja, Bali, to save the cargo. But no success. Even so, by miracle, the captain succeed to dock the ship on the shores of Tulamben and, by miracle again, no one on the ship was hurt.

Back in 1963, twenty one years later, on what is known to be the largest volcano eruption in Bali in the last centuries, the lava from Agung pushes the abandoned USAT Liberty completely underwater. Located inside the Coral Triangle, the metal structure of the wreck is rapidly covered  by colonies of corals. Nowadays the USAT Liberty wreck is one of the highly rated diving attractions by its variety of corals and more than 500 reef and pelagic fish species. And it is a great business for the local community, for sure.

Fight and Politics:

As the sunset fan club was of a constant dwellers, no wonder small talks were the main exchange.

– “After Sukarno’s fall on 1967, all presidents of Indonesia had a connection with the dictator Suharto. Now things could change. If the good president is elected.” Gede, the first born in his family, grins with complicity and adds:

– “Bule, shell we meet in Bunutan tomorrow? Sabungan. Cockfight.”

– “Cockfight. Really? At what time? “

– “At the cockfight Bule.” Gede grins again and turns his back.

You get there or you don’t, you find the place or not. The cockfight is still there and, in Bali, it is quite an experience. I don’t mean to discussions about the ethics behind it. Different cultures, different values. What is amazing though is the social valence of it.

It is only apparent that roosters are fighting inside the ring. Inside the fighting circle there are the roosters that kick, beat and rip each other to death. The fight, however, is between men. When I say that I mean more than their egos’ fight. The Balinese concept of a body  built from a set of independent parts, that each by itself has its own existence and then brought together by a sort of symbiosis form the Balinese body – this concept looks that naturally extends to his champion rooster. Inside the ring there is not a simple bird of a simple Balinese. It is a piece of his symbiotic body fighting to death. Victory or defeat is organic. Ecstasy or suffering in a split of a second.

The word “Sabung” mainly means rooster but it is also used for “hero” or even “politician”, “Casanova” or a very, very tough guy. The Man is the fighter. The judge is the king. The clockwork timer is made by a holey coconut shell which slowly sinks in a bucket full of water. The bets are illegal, wagers come in heaps. Cockfighting is a Balinese story about Balinese people.

The art of not leaving

We’ve seen his pictures, but don’t know who he is. Many came here from around the wold searching peace, love, colors, natural or supernatural. The majority may be gone, but many never left Bali for good. When one thinks about painting and Bali, visualizes a vivid and colorful scene: a Balinese with a straw hat working the padi fields under the a burning blue sky. It is exactly an image from the inland Bali where, strange and comforting at the same time, few are venturing still. And right there, where a daily life scene could become a painting while anyone could be an artist.

About what is still left over.

The usual Balinese seams to ignore you at first. He sees you, even salute you. However he is kind of looking through you. Then comes your time to take over, if you’d like. A kretek – that smoke bled of tobacco and cloves, a world spoken in his language, a helpful hand on dragging his too-late-arrived  jukung out of the sea, a little donation at a ceremony or maybe you ‘re wearing sarong or your reaction at cockfight is pure Balinese. Something can change the situation without you to notice. And then you’re going to find out about his life, how was it back then when he met his wife or when the crop last year was lost, how many kids the daughter of his neighbor has. Then you payback the price of listening. In a minute you’ll find yourself talking about the same, without boasting or embarrassment. Somehow you just say what you have to say. How you do it? Most of the time in a sort of English enriched by sawing the air. If your chance is to spend some more time in Indonesia, it’s almost sure you will get a bit of Indonesian words. It helps a lot. With the Balinese language, this is a different story. It has three different language registers: the lower, the middle and the high one. Meaning that the vocabulary one uses will depend on the social relation between himself and the companion. And if this is something that exists in almost any language, in Balinese it is said to be almost a different language one speaks depending to whom he is talking with.

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And a short video from Sukau:

When we decided to have a short stay in Malaysian Borneo, I was looking forward for two things: rainforest and diving. Then mount Rinjani in Lombok erupted and kept us trapped in Bali for a bit longer. One of the two plans had to be skipped, then diving Sipadan was left for another time.

We headed for Sukau eventually, a village on the Kinabatangan river, famous for its rainforest and abundance of wildlife therefore increased chance of encountering elephants, orangutans, crocodiles and all sort of smaller wildlife. Frankly speaking the rainforest here is not a primary rainforest. Because of intensive logging in the past, done to clear the land for palm tree plantations, the rainforest left is now reduced to a stripe along the river with some proper canopy from place to place but mostly consisting in young trees an bushes along the river bank. And this is the catch with the ‘ wildlife abundance ‘ actually. While the wildlife is indeed present a lot along the lower Kinabatangan, this is rather because they’ve been caught in the narrow rainforest stripe left along the river. So to speak abundance is in fact a high density of wildlife due to diminished habitat and cut off  migration paths. Great efforts are underway to resolve this, however great efforts are also made by others to plant more and more palm oil trees.

This google earth snapshot above is showing the jungle stripe along the river near Sukau, framed by  plantations.

When our boat entered into the tributary, we knew that the elephants will be there. But nothing prepared us for  getting right in the middle of such a large herd. The boat engine stopped and suddenly we were surrounded by about 70 elephants. Crossing the river, some of them enjoying the water some  others surrounding the little ones to be protected from crocodiles. We were just some insignificant dumbfounded intruders, too small and weak to count as a danger. Surrounded by elephants all we had to do was to absorb the scene. Excitement and fear at the same time exuded from every pore. Having elephants bathing in the morning hours is a rare view. Often they do it when it is hot outside, so afternoon hours are more likely for such a scene. But our chance was to be there alone with them, in the perfect light of a beautiful morning.  While the pack was crossing the stream, the lead elephant on the river bank started his trumpeting. It was a giant of what is, by book, called the pygmy elephant of Borneo. But don’t think it was a pygmy at all. A sense of danger was in the air, but right there the pack crossing the river at our boat tail was thinning and freed the way out. Our gateway boatman started the engine and, with evasive  maneuvers, headed to the Kinabatangan main stream in our search for the elusive crocodile.  

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I cut short a longer video, here:

After Vlad was born, this question always bothered me. What is the proper age when a young one could start doing some snorkeling? I searched this topic myself in tens of forums. I eventually left confused and decided that I kinda lost my free time. I had to try it by myself to have my own answer. I cannot advise anybody how to do it, I just share how it worked out for me. I’m comfortable in the water myself so I gave it a try, however there are dedicated professionals that are doing it and this is might be the way to go if one has any doubts.

It all started at one month when I decided to soak him a bit, knowing that the little one will block his respiration based on some reflex that, fortunately, will be lost eventually. While many will tell you that the newborns and babies will breath-hold instinctively, not many will be tell you for how long though. I found none to answer this, actually. I decided for 10 seconds top, borrowed a Go Pro from a friend and filled the bathtub with 37 degree Celsius warm water. Under the disapproving gaze of audience and after some incremental tries, I successfully found that 10 seconds is fine.

Later on I found it in a book of free-diving that 40 seconds is maybe the limit. I wouldn’t go or advise for 40 seconds though, I kept it as a lecture. And then I learned that starting to walk will disable the reflex.

The swimming pool came as a decisive factor. A swimming pool for babies, actually. Water temperature here is higher than a standard swimming pool. And also seeing all these kids splashing, diving, jumping comforted my son a lot. I cannot remember the age, it must be around 6 months when we started with the pool. Since he was not yet walking, he was still breath-holding just fine. The only issue at this point was the cold, since the body was still small, after some 40 minutes or so he was starting to shiver. I also found that he was able to feel the level of comfort of the adult teaching the skills. So, do smile:

Playing underwater was another catch. No need for a creative game, we randomly cast some of his toy underwater and he eventually dove to pick them from the bottom.

At his first visit in Indonesia, he was almost two years old. We only used a  TRIBORD UBLO WHALES – BLUE.
I highly recommend it for little kids. I tried it with the mask at that time, but his face was too small to fit.

A good floating costume helped a lot. I hate the floating ‘wings’ and inflating vests.  After couple of tries I found that the floating suit has to be so well balanced that at the point when he started to use a mask, a cheap Decathlon one, was also able to balance his body at the surface a bit, by himself.

The main issue was not the mask. Well, he hated it a bit because it dragged and pull his hair when I put it on, at the beginning. However using a cap will save the day.  The fun was with the snorkel, though. How to make him  breath through the tube ?

At first I let him play with the mask and snorkel in the room, while letting the TV running some free-diving movies. At first means many days. By that time he was already fascinated by fish and corals, asking for these films instead of cartoons, sometimes. He eventually started to inhale-exhale through the tube when playing in the room. This was the biggest success I claim myself. Later on I let him in the bath tube to play underwater with some toys. So he learned to breath calmly through the snorkel while doing stuff.

Eventually we had some fun at the pool.

At almost three years old we had the full game. Being in Gili Layar, in Lombok Indonesia, we had the super-snorkeling-fun. Floating costume, mask, snorkel and a safety belt to attach him firmly to me. Only perfect water conditions and when he was in the greats moods, also. I felt always in control, no crazy tries.  Stopping immediately if the mood changes or he got cold.

We now wait for the next trip. I don’t know how will that be. I hope he will still like it. Nowadays personality is building up in Vlad and I can see things he liked before are now rejected and the other way around. I keep faith that he had a smooth and good start with water, so I’ll have my diving partner in some years.

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Available in full HD

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Are bataks born with the gift of music or it is just a side effect of drinking  tuak instead of water?  I met this 8 years old kid , not spoiled by tuak yet, and he shown me that his talent is in his blood since he is young, drinking tuak being actually the side effect when growing old.  Left handed, he naturally  turns the guitar up side down and left to right then plays .  In the first video he plays along his brother,  16 years old. Their dream: one day will have enough money to join a music school somewhere in the crappy city of Medan.

On the other hand they already have a music school in place, a very different one for sure. At dusk their family gathers in the small restaurant…the show starts.  There is their mother advertising the show, their uncle improvising, some friend playing a guitar also and those white guys  joining from time to time.  Not sure Medan, with its music school, will bring any good to them.

Bellow some more videos…with those kids, uncle, friends and audience.

Somehow they don’t really need their guitars in tune or all strings attached …making show out of nothing is in their nature… and damn it, how do their tunes resemble  the Caribbean ones?

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Couple of weeks ago I watched “The Cove”, a documentary about a place in Japan where dolphins are slaughtered using a very precise and efficient procedure. Somehow strange to head to Lamalera right after. Lamalera is a small village where locals hunt whales and dolphins, but hunting them here is not banned by any international commission. It is not banned since the hunters of Lamalera still do it in a traditional way, by using wooden poles and handmade steel harpoons, paddling hard to propel the heavy wooden boats .

It starts every May, and there is a whale hunt almost everyday in Lamalera. Then it stops when the rainy season starts again. Not all hunts are successful, only 15- 30 wales per year are taken. No engines while whaling, no guns, no sonars, no radars.  Just rowing boats and throwing harpoons . After couple of hours people of Lamalera eventually win, and the whale is dragged to the shore, where it is chopped and meat shared within all families in the community. It happen to be different. One time the boat was dragged by a whale, and it was dragged in Australian waters. A sperm whale or a pilot whale is the most common hunt, however orcas and others are taken from time to time. The only moment they stop the hunt is when a rare white whale approaches. If so, boats are turned back to the shore, and no hunt is starting until the white whale is gone.

We arrived a little early here, so no whale hunt is regularly done. Even so, occasionally, one whale is seen by the patrol boats and a hunt is started. I’ve been in one of the patrol boats but no whale has shown. Being in the middle of hundred of dolphins, which are whales in a way, the hunters did their job. The wooden pole and harpoon was thrown and, after couple hours, one dolphin was caught. Dolphins were chased for almost an hour, and they still look like they are playing kinda game with the boat. Jumping, swimming around , they seam not to fear . But still. Some pack instinct kept all of them one foot away from the harpooner.  At a moment the hunters were tired and almost abandoned the hunt. As they found a place full of sharks they tried their luck for catching one. But dolphins were back in the game, and the hunt resumed. Then one of them surrendered. A jump a bit too close to the boat, a spin in the air, and the human spring triggered. The Flipper figure pop up in my mind. For a moment I hoped that the harpooner will miss again, but back on the shore those kids waiting, kids that never seen Flipper series, were hoping the opposite. Their daily series is surviving , in a place where one dolphin surrenders and one community lives. But things are changing, and this is not necessary a good change.

It is morning and there is a strange silence in Lamalera. Is not because there is no sound, but the sounds are so different. People , carrying bags full of souvenirs are heading to an addhoc market. This is strange since we are the single white guys in town and we already have kinda reputation as bad buyers after negotiating too much for some craps and those 5 liter canisters of tuak . Guru Frans elucidate the mystery: a schooner carrying nine tourists is arriving today. The addhoc market is all for them. Over priced gadgets, bottles with whale oil, ikat, wooden whales and so took place of the regular tuak canisters and vegetables. For the right price the heavy traditional boats are lunched in the water, which is rare in off season, for demonstrations.

As the schooner left after the cultural encounter, things are going back to normal. Having a coffee in the evening with our friend here, he is pointing the three little lights far in the sea. “Pencuri” he says. “Thieves”. The three heavy ships are there since couple of months, illegally fishing tuna and other large fish. The captain of the fishing boats is foreigner. He is from a country where sea food is precious, but not the one in “The Cove”. The workers on the ships are Indonesians, from Bali maybe, and what’s strange, three large fishing boats like those are impossible to hide from regular sea police that patrols Lembata’s waters. Also four years ago , or so, the neighbors from Lamakera were bombing the waters of Lamalera. They were fishing tuna again, but the customer was not clearly known. Bombs and big fishing ships are noisy, the wales are not so many as in the past. And the rare white whale can not stop the change.

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some pictures from the last leg of our trip…
There was a human skull on the flat stone near the northern beach of Kepa Kecil, but that tourist took it as a souvenir. That was about 15 years ago. Fifty years old locals still remember those times when fellows villagers were fighting the other village on the hill. Headhunting, very different meaning those times, with some similarities with the actual term in human resources though, was still a practice in 1970. I’m not so sure if they really stop it, since the forests in east Alor are still under a shade of mystic.

Different souvenirs can be taken today. Ready to receive their visitors, the traditional villages near Kalabahi still have their charm. For a hand full of betel nuts, you can buy them for about 25 us cents in the local market, the villagers will happily show you the secrets of the village. House of spirits, bronze drums and all souvenirs they manufacture…souvenirs very different than the one taken from Kepa 15 years ago.

Even just a bit longer then 100 kilometer, Alor looks like a place still to discover. 54 languages are spoken on the island and people from Kalabahi still have their mystic beliefs about the people from south and east. The ones in south are blamed for black magic practice, while the one in east are some kind of flying guys, flying guys can’t be good guys. I presume the flying behavior is because the tree houses they have, from where they maybe fall from time to time. What is sure is that Alor people still hunt with bows and arrows and, after the hunt, they put their prey on motorbikes and drive back home.

We arrived there not for the villages, no time for the far east. Alor and Lembata is practically the last place to visit. From here it is just about closing the loop on our way home :(. We are here for the, suppose to be, one of the finest diving and snorkeling place around. So after some short visits to south and north, we moved on Little Kepa island.
There is a wonderful world down there. I promised myself every time, I will not leave home without an underwater camera again. From hundred of dolphins that join the diving boat, to the extraterrestrial shapes of frog fishes and nudibranchs….everything is just amazing. But those pictures, maybe next time.

The ferryboat takes us to Lewoleba, from where is a short bumpy three hour ride to Lamalera. Where dolphins and their big brothers, whales, are seen from a different angle than we use to.

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