The starting point for seeing Komodo Dragons is Labuajan Bajo, a small village/city on Flores Island. We embarked on this leg of the journey aboard the Warisan, described in the literature as follows:
“The Warisan Komodo is a 23-meter traditional-style wooden boat built in South Sulawesi by one of the highest ranked Indonesian phinisi boat makers. The vessel was built in 2014 and started cruising in the Komodo region in October 2014.“ Unfortunately. the Warisan has not aged well.
We loved it though because it enabled us to visit unusual and beautiful spots. Hated it because we are just not cut out for life aboard a “traditional-style wooden boat”. It is a bit claustrophobic in spite of two decks where we could stretch out and relax, showers and toilets en-suite, an air conditioned bedroom and electricity. Sounds OK but seen through First World eyes, well. . . . I did request that the bedroom windows be opened the second night. It took 3 crew members about 20 minutes to accomplish this but the ocean breezes were far better than the air conditioning. The crew could not have been more pleasant and accommodating.
The dinghy took us to some magnificent coral reefs — healthy thriving coral heads growing in large fields on the ocean floor — clownfish hiding in anemones, clams crammed vertically among the coral heads visible because of their iridescent blue and violet wavy mantles, And so many brightly painted fish, some solitary, others in schools that stretched out around us. Our guide took us to a spot called turtle bay where we watched two or three large hawksbill turtles swimming and munching on underwater greens, floating above them in what was a fairly strong current. The guide also took us to a spot where manta rays feed and we could see them just beneath the surface with a wing span that looked to be about 9 feet; we wanted to jump in the water with them but the current was too strong. Ira wanted to put on his mask and stick his head in the water but it was clear that our guide was not fond of this idea.
Our first venture to look for Komodo Dragons involved a stop in Rinca village, a small Muslim enclave of about 1000 people who earn their living by fishing. We landed as the afternoon call to prayer rang out, found a couple of local men to accompany us into the jungle beyond the village to find the dragons. We passed many nets stretched on wooden stakes about a foot above the ground where sardines were dumped to dry. Our guide said the drying process takes several months so the fish are spread out in the morning but gathered in baskets before nightfall to protect them from rain and animals.
Having learned my lesson about Indonesian walks I made it very clear that I was not climbing anywhere so we strolled along a level path of loose stones. The guides all had long wooden poles with a “v” at the very end. These were fashioned to hit dragons in the sensitive spots around their faces and necks should they attack. Komodo dragons are quite dangerous — they are big and carnivorous. They are also cannibalistic — newly hatched dragons live in trees for a few years because if their mother gets hungry she would not hesitate to eat them. We saw some abandoned nests which were large dirt mounds with holes in the middle. After about 25 minutes of walking through the jungle heat the conversation turned to snakes. “Oh yes,” said the guide. “Many snakes live here.” What kind? “Spitting cobras, anacondas, pythons.” Hmmmm. “I think it is time that we turn around.” I said.
The guide was disappointed that we found no dragons “in the wild” but promised we would see them the next day in the national park; we did see several and that walk was plenty wild as far as I was concerned. In an attempt to make Komodo dragons a tourist attraction the government built a boardwalk — the dragons are drawn to the area below this walkway and we saw four or five on our stroll.
These animals are not particularly exciting — big, fat, brown iguana like creatures that lie motionless in the sun although I am told they can move very quickly when motivated. The name is the only exotic thing about them.
Of greater interest to me were the “flying foxes” which are actually enormous bats. We parked the boat near Kalong Island where they sleep in trees and caves during the day, then watched them cross the sky at twilight to hunt for food.
The next day, Ira and I were lying in the shade of the upper deck debating whether the bird circling above our heads was an eagle or a kite when the Warisan broke down. The crew was upset and our guide clearly concerned. Ira and I were joking and laughing and I hoped that we would need to be “rescued” so we could disembark early and I could take a real shower in a dry bathroom. But, after an hour or so of sputtering, the on-board “engineer”, a pleasant 25 year-old man trying to learn English (I think he may have also been the cook) discovered that the problem was a clogged oil filter and we were on our way.
PS No time to eliminate more of the “color noise” in some of the twilight bat photos
