Sailing on a schooner around eastern Indonesia, Natalie Paris mixes sunbathing on deck with a spot of island exploration - and a meeting with the carnivorous lizards of Komodo.
Telegraph.co.uk, By Natalie Paris, 11:09AM BST 10 May 2010
While not exactly fire-breathing, these large monitor lizards have an acute sense of smell, large claws and a toxic bite
Indonesia's vast archipelago has always lured adventurers, with tales of stormy straits, desert islands and man-eating dragons. European trading ships sailed here in the 16th century in search of treasures. These days the Spice Islands, now known as Maluku, have fallen off the charts of the average seafarer, but farther south, legends of dragons live on. Here lie remote islands perfect for modern voyages of discovery.
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Dirk Bergsma, a latter-day explorer, got his first taste of the country in the Seventies when he caught a lift on a wooden schooner locals used to transport cargo. The journey inspired him to found a tour company, Sea Trek, that organises intrepid but relaxed cruises along the old spice routes. "You can sail to places so incredible you can't believe they still exist," he says.
Nearly two decades after Dirk bought his first schooner, I joined 14 other passengers boarding another on an adventure of our own. We might have had gin-and-tonics, sun loungers and a wonderful crew who rinsed our walking boots for us, but we still felt like adventurers.
Each day would start with some sailing, typically past pods of dolphins and lackadaisical turtles
The double-masted Katharina sails all over the eastern archipelago, including to Maluku, but our voyage was the most accessible that she offers – a 10-day trip east from Bali to the island of Flores and back. This popular itinerary allowed us to make various stops within the Komodo National Park, a diver's haven with sharks and manta rays below the surface, and above it, the island homes of one of the world's most impressive creatures – the Komodo dragon.
While not exactly fire-breathing, these large monitor lizards have an acute sense of smell, large claws and a toxic bite. Although they eat mainly carrion, they prey on deer and water buffalo, and have killed a human as recently as 2009. From Ari, our companionable guide on board the Katharina, I learnt that the dragons eat their dead and are cannibals, forcing their young to live in trees for up to five years to avoid being attacked. Suddenly our planned two-hour hike to spot them seemed less appealing, knowing that they could be anywhere around us – on land, in branches above us, in the sea. That's right. They swim, too.
An encounter with the lizards is certainly the most obvious reason to explore this scattering of volcanic islands, but there are plenty of others. In the couple of days before we went in search of dragons, the boat stopped at Flores ("Flowers"), an island named by the Portuguese that has smoking cones, fertile flanks and forested ridges studded with the tin roofs of villages glinting in the sun.
The winding island road, forever either climbing or falling, is lined with Catholic churches, neat wooden houses and tethered goats, pigs and tawny cows. As our driver negotiated the many switchbacks through the lush interior, old women squatting next to fires of coconut husks smiled up at us through lips stained red by betel-nut juice, and schoolchildren yelled "Hello, mister" at every bend.
We had come inland to see the dramatic crater lakes at the top of Mount Kelimutu, which change colour depending on mineral levels and have, in the past, been a rainbow palate of brown, cream, red, blue and emerald green. Kelimutu's three lakes have a spiritual meaning for locals and represent the afterlife.
The dramatic crater lakes at the top of Mount Kelimutu have, in the past, been a rainbow palate of brown, cream, red, blue and emerald green
At sunrise, two lakes that were brilliant turquoise during my visit were the first to be bathed in light. These are the two that welcome the spirits of the good and the young, and the sun gave them a pinky halo. Yet a chill remained at the third, on the other face of the mountain, supposedly the resting place of evil spirits. This lake was as black as an inkwell and, while it was shrouded in shadows, an air of foreboding was almost tangible.
That feeling returned a few days later on the boat, as we checked our zoom lenses and prepared to set foot on Rinca island, dragon territory. Rinca and neighbouring Komodo, where the dragons also live, have a more arid landscape than Flores. Shoes or flip-flops, I wondered? Apparently the dragons can launch themselves into a sprint as quickly as a small dog. Shoes it was, then. I had just started to weigh up whether it would be safer to stride out with the ranger or stay close to the group when our first group of dragons appeared right in front of us.
Six or seven lay under a ranger's hut, the occasional yellow forked tongue sliding from square jaws. They were just as big as I had imagined. Shutters whirred and we edged nearer. "Careful," one of the rangers said. "Not too close."
For a minute the dragons seemed docile. But then something disturbed the group. In a flash they rose up on haunches encased in folds of scales and darted forward at speed, their thick bodies switching from side to side in a manner that was alarming in something 10 feet long. Deep inside, some innate urge screamed "Run".
I flinched and the ranger laughed. "Don't worry," he said, waving a stick as if idly flapping at a mosquito. "Their noses are really sensitive; they will run away." We had no choice but to believe him and follow him into the woods.
These stocky predators are the largest lizards on earth and are a protected species. There are only about 4,000 of them living in the wild, all found on this cluster of islands. We spotted one with its head close to the ground, camouflaged by the trees. "He is waiting for a monkey," the ranger said. Sure enough, 15 yards along the track we saw a young family of long-tailed macaques skipping along the forest floor.
On the crest of a hill another dragon sat on its hind legs, leaning against a rock and staring down at the bay where the Katharina was docked. Fearing an ambush of the kind recently filmed by the BBC's Life crew – in which dragons had sat mercilessly waiting for a wounded buffalo to die, tongues flicking in anticipation – our group filed back down to the jetty with new purpose.
It was a pleasure to return to the blissfully relaxing routine of the Katharina. Soon I was sitting with my legs over her bow, sea salt in my hair and the waves slapping at my bare soles, watching another uninhabited island slip out of view.
On board were seven air-conditioned, amply appointed cabins, shared by passengers from all over Europe. We ate communal dinners with wine at a large, deck-top dining table and there were sun loungers for optional massages against the backdrop of sublime sunsets. The small lounge and bar downstairs was the perfect nook for nightcaps, and the crew raised handsome maroon sails whenever there was a brisk wind.
Each day would start with some sailing, typically past pods of dolphins and lackadaisical turtles, sheets of ferocious currents and whirlpools. Then, as we travelled slowly back to Bali, we would drop anchor in order to visit island communities on Flores, Sumbawa and Lombok. Some demonstrated how to weave ikat cloth, others how to master the steps of traditional dances.
In Sumbawa we disembarked onto a beach at Wera, where village children ran out to greet us and show us half-built wooden ships positioned like breakers along the black sand. Skilfully made but incomplete, they resembled skeletal Mary Celestes that required years of crafting before they could be blessed and put out to sea.
Sumptuous lunches would be dished up on board before afternoons spent snorkelling or exploring pristine beaches, such as the smudged pink sand at Gili Banta, turquoise bays around Riung and the corals at Gili Lawa.
Afternoons would be spent snorkelling or exploring pristine beaches, such as the turquoise bays around Riung
We came to learn that other passengers had enjoyed previous voyages on the Katharina. At night they swapped stories under the stars of journeys further east, of meeting warrior tribes and sailing through the Alor strait, where "there was nothing but swirling seas". A retired Dutchman told me on our final night: "You should come when we sail to Papua. Now that is truly magnificent."
As we approached the glittering lights of Bali's coastline, I felt every bit the returning explorer, with a successful voyage and encounter with fearsome reptiles under my belt. Even in this day and age, new adventures are always possible at sea.
Explore
(0844 499 0901; www.explore.co.uk) offers 16-night "East Indies Seatrek" tours including a 10-day Bali-Flores-Bali voyage on the Katharina between May and October. The trip includes four nights in a hotel in Bali on a b & b basis and nine nights' full board in ensuite cabins on the schooner: prices from £2,370 with international flights; £1,621 without. Between July and August, places are available for children at £2,478, with adult places costing £2,601, both with flights.
Sea Trek
(0062 361 283358; www.anasia-cruise.com) offers a range of voyages on the Katharina to Indonesian destinations farther afield.
