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Biking Bali, Touring Lombok, Cruising
to Komodo for Dragons and Diving
Part 1
November, 2006
"When do you truly arrive? When you know you are where you want to be?"
Indonesia Arrival
 I flew into Bali from Japan late last night, drove to Kuta. At the hotel one mosquito hides in the lamp shade. Dizzy and drowsy from the trip I sleep with Frangipani in the air. Early next morning I'm on a 20 minute flight to Lombok island. The Angung volcano on Bali looks spectacular from the air.
Lombok Bus
 I take a bus to the seaside village of Padak to start a 3 day boat tour to Flores island. On the way, the countryside has a western dash, motos and malls. Kids play the breath organ by the roadside. They shout and wave vigorously. Cars weave around horse-drawn taxis. Muslim head dress and traditional sarongs watch the bus go by.
Masbagit Pottery
 Masbagit village women must learn pottery or else they will not marry. We enter narrow paths passing mud and straw houses, relentless heat and scorching sun. The women sit spinning clay pots and plates. Bird cages hang from trees. Pots stacked on the ground. Loud speakers at the mosque announce the call to prayer. We board the bus.
Lemek Village Performance
 Gudang buley - welcome the new people
Lemek villagers form a long procession accompanied by the village band. Children line the road, everyone says hello. We are lead to the curtain-roofed, center enclosure. They begin to dance. "Ketch Mol" (welcome) and "Gandune" (love story) head, eyes, fingers and feet. Nothing else moves. Men lead with heels. Women lead with toes and tap. "Breisai-an" the final performance, a fast and very real fight with sticks and wooden shields, the winner determined by blows.
Padak Village
 Lunch, clove tea and clove cigarettes. My head starts to clear. Here the villagers make large boats for the tour company. Projects make me feel good, make me want to join in, make me want to come back. We board the boat for Labuan Bajo on Flores Island. Older Europeans are well composed. They talk about where they are. Young North Americans come with a pioneer spirit. They talk about where they've been and are going next.
Boarding the Boat
 We will sail all night but first stop at a small, white sand island for a Bon voyage snorkel and supper. The coral reef is small with a sharp drop off, sudden thermals and cold up swells. Local dynamite fishing has destroyed much it. The tour company replants the coral and we help. In a bamboo shower on the beach I wash the salt water off of my body. A mantis crawls in my light brown shirt for camouflage. It works; I'm surprised. Beer, barbecue, barracuda, Boney M and back to the boat. It's 9 p.m. The sea is rough. The boat chugs through the swelling night.
Satonda Island
 Morning breaks behind the hilly, brown-treed island. Large monkeys cavort and holler at each other in the trees. The short, up hill hike to the salt lake view point is grueling for 7 a.m. In 1815 a volcano on Sambawa erupted causing a huge tsunami killing 5,000 people and depositing this salt lake on Satonda. Breakfast on the beach, eggs, coffee, fruit and toast. A quick dip and some fantastic snorkeling. Swimming back to the boat dodging jellyfish in a mild current takes forever. Back on board I'm getting used to the constant drumming of the engine and the smell of thick diesel at the stern. I'm watching the towed skiff splash in the turquoise churning.
Dolphins off the Bow
 Before lunch Captain Tomi signals the arrival of dolphins. We rush to the bow but no dolphins. Flying fish skirt the boat. Again the captain signals and this time they are there, off the starboard mid ship at 200 meters and closing. As if greeting a friend they race to the boat and take up the guide position on the bow. It is strange, I think a game as they swerve, leap and dive in formation and speed along just beneath the sparkling surface. Then one leaps and dives deep signaling the end. On the port side hundreds of jacks and tunas begin leaping frantically away from the boat. A game? Or a clever ambush? Lunch has arrived, the dolphins are off in pursuit.
Komodo Dragons
 That night the sea is calm as we sail to Komodo. I take the top birth in my cabin where the breeze wafts through the slatted window. The sun rises on a lone island between Komodo and Rinca. Komodo is hilly and a desolate brown. From the shore something moves slowly into the scraggly brush. Dragons are everywhere, around the ranger station. On a lengthy trek we spot only deer, pigs and Cocakatoos. At the dock children tout us with their souvenirs, wooden dragons, pearls and necklaces. I buy 4 dragons. We sail for Red Beach still on Komodo and the best snorkeling yet, then back to the boat and the final destination Labuan Bajo.
Labuan Bajo
 The bay and harbour appear smaller than the port itself but Labuan Bajo stretches out for miles along the rocky coast. It's a bit bizarre to be on land, no rocking, no drumming or diesel but there are mosques and calls to prayer, five times a day. A few restaurants and bungalows nestle on the hillside of main street. A few dive centers and tour offices line the ocean side. Some Nasi Goreng (spicy fried rice), a cold Bintang beer and sleep on dry land comes easy. Tomorrow I dive.
Diving Komodo
 Dive into the blue, pressure, release, float, drift, relax. Breath in and rise. Breath out and drop. Kick, turn up, down, through coral caverns and cauldrons. Masses of fish, bright blue schools, orange tails. Camouflage and alarm. Puffers, File, Fusilers, Scorpion and Batfish, Huge schools of Tuna and Jacks and the infamous Blue Fin Triggerfish but no sharks, turtles or rays. The next day we return to Komodo Marine Park and dive Sebolan Besar off Rinca. Sebolan Besar is the best dive. We tie up at the Rinca landing for lunch. There are dragons here too but no ranger station. A young dragon patrols the dock. He is looking for food. His long tongue flicks the air repeatedly. He is fast. He wants our food. He wants to board. We pole away but the lines and the current drift us back. We pole away again and again. Finally local fishermen with long poles chase him to shore. Tomorrow, Friday I fly to Denpesar.
Asef and Udi Jam
 That night supper is at "The Lounge" an open air, Greek style Tapas bar at the top of some winding stairs. Tabla and sitar music spreads through the background. Cushions, chairs and candles casually arranged around tables. Spacious art and artifacts against white walls. Asef and Udi work there. They also play there. Asef plays Jimbay, Udi plays piano and I play guitar. We start slow, jamming the classic Lennon's and Marley's. Then we move into an A minor blues. I sing free, spontaneous, stretching strings and trailing the voice. Udi follows clearly on piano. The sound is tight. Asef peppers the rhythm with Jimbay. We are in the zone. "My Bonnie" in a minor Indonesian space, tumbles and drives. We play for the moment. The moment ends in full satisfaction.
Back to Bali
I will catch my plane at 11. The ferry arrives at 6 a.m. It's an old iron boat that dwarfs the wooden dock. A local women climbs the steps to the hotel. A 40 kilo tuna balances in a bowl on her head. This will be lunch and dinner for many. The ferry's baritone blast drones across the harbour. Zing and squawk the motos rumble past in the street below. Again the low, resounding bellow from the yellowed hunker. People rush now to board and depart. I squint from the veranda on the hillside trying to recognize any of these mouse -sized people hauling bundles and boxes to and fro. I don't know anyone. There is no reason to stay any longer. Soon I will be in Bali again.
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