South to Misool

Our route is planned to take us through islets in the southern portion of Raja Ampat. We have a week and a half before Dan flies out of Ambon, 350 miles to our southwest, and want to make the most of it. First, though, we simply have to get away from New Guinea and down to the islands! Because charts are terrible and all navigation must be visual, the trip is divided in two parts: our first day takes us through the channels of waterways south from Sorong; the second day will open up into the Seram Sea and take us across to the islands off Misool.

Motoring through the windless channel that runs south and west from Sorong, we skate cleanly through a line of afternoon squalls. The kids wait very, very patiently but they know they have a host of goodies sent from the states in Dan’s luggage. Finally- we are through the rain and tackle the duffel. It’s like Christmas, but bigger! Their grandparents have sent a treats from books to games to clothes.

Dan’s here! Southbound from Sorong, hanging out in the cockpit

The charts are bad and the nights are inky, so towards the end of the day we pick a spot to anchor overnight. There’s a quiet spot well outside the channel, although the one or two fishing boats that pass by per hour don’t constitute much in the way of traffic. Some of them swing closer to Totem to check us out.

I’m the king of the world!

Every once in a while, a village emerges from the mangroves. I’m so curious to know more about them. Who lives in there- are they Papuan, or transmigrated populations? Are they primarily subsistence lifestyles or is there some commercial work here? It’s hard to imagine what, other than a few signs of the (un)natural extraction occurring.

The occasional small village with homes like this on the water…but not many people

The current through here gets strong: thankfully, we haven’t had too much against us yet. Unfortunately, we expect foul current for most of the next the morning. It’s a new moon, but even if we had full moonlight we wouldn’t travel through here at night. There are no navigation lights and the charts are inaccurate. With the shallow bottom and shifting shoals here, it’s not worth the risk. Rows of subtle buoys strung by the hundreds from a pearl farm around the bend remind us why we only want to continue on with good visibility! So we drop the hook, and enjoy a sunset while current swirls in whirlpools next to Totem.

On the move in the morning, we manage to avoid the worst of the current by staying toward the sides of channels. Back eddies sometimes even give us a little push. We worried that the distance we need to make before our rather uncertain anchorage could start to push daylight hours, so it’s a relief not to face much foul current.

It turns out we are grateful for the extra daylight hours to anchor. We explore several islets and bays before finding a manageable depth. It’s frustrating to see a picture-perfect bay, with the crescent curve of gorgeous white sand beach – fronted by tropical blues of the reef, backed by the lush green mountainside. But it’s very deep, too deep to anchor- until the bottom comes up rapidly to… much too shallow! It’s a challenge to find a spot but the exploring is fun, and we scope out several spots to return to by dinghy…and rest.

24 hours in Sorong

Back in Sorong, we nestle in among the liveaboard dive boats in the harbor.

Liveaboards in Sorong harbour

One of the blogs that fed our dreams was that of the Dreamkeeper. We are a few years behind their physical track through this part of the world, and their blog and website content has been alternately inspiring and a source of practical information. So I’m just a wee bit pleased to do a 24 hour turnaround in Sorong, fueled by ojek  rides (basically, your own private motorcycle taxi) and a bit of mania (provisioning for six people for two weeks, and wanting it to be nice- we have a guest aboard). Gar set the bar for this, but I am not sure I could have done it the first time, and I am definitely not sure we could have included fueling in the mix. Respect.

I “have” to go back to the market. No hardship for me there- I loathe shopping and am allergic to anything remotely mall-like, but I could walk the stalls, checking out produce, chatting with vendors for hours at these open air markets. This time, though, I need to keep a pace on. Discovering that the guys with the wheelbarrows will not just carry everything, but help source random produce (I am advised on the best watermelon selection, and told to avoid the avocadoes) and advice good prices- well, it’s a big win. How did I miss them last time?

Beautiful tuna, but sad, because we know the fishery here is terribly strained

The next morning, we pick up Dan at the airport. He’s been on a serious marathon to reach us, having traveled for nearly three days including a grand total of 6 different flights before he landed in Sorong. No, we aren’t easy to reach!

We wait at a hotel lobby for the Raja Ampat tourist office to open, so Dan can get his ‘ticket’ for the conservation area. The girls split a chocolate milkshake. It’s only nine o’clock in the morning, but Totem doesn’t have a freezer on board, so… well, why not?!

Mmmm… chocolate milkshake breakfast.

Once Dan has his park pass in hand, we head back towards Totem with just a quick stop at a grocery store for last minute purchases. No settlements or stores in the outlying islands off Misool where we are headed, and it would be wrong to run out of chili sauce.

Back on board, we haul the anchor and motor out of the harbor: 24 hours in Sorong, and ready to find cleaner water.

Memorable Stopoff at Mansuar Island

We could go straight back to Sorong, but we decide to stop off on the way- see if we can trade a couple of days in the islands first, and make it up with efficiency getting our Sorong errands done.

Heading past Mansuar island, looking for a place to drop the anchor, we see an open mooring in front of a dive resort. There’s a liveaboard boat on the other mooring, so we putter up and ask if we can take it and are happy to recieve their enthusiastic response. It’s 130 feet deep here, and the current runs at 3-5 knots, so we’d be a tad anxious on the hook.

We go ashore to get details on the mooring. It’s $20/night, which sounds great to us. They take our booking for dinner. There’s even wifi! We make plans to come back later in the afternoon, after some snorkeling time. This is the polar opposite experience to the cold shoulder at resort on Pulau Pef the day before.

The staff is friendly and attentive- we feel like welcomed guests. The dive master remembers seeing us off a dive site the prior week and asks what we saw. We get tips from another on islands to visit in Nusa Tenggara- places he thinks will be especially interesting for us. The children are over the moon with a “nice” restaurant dinner, and the chef basks in their adoration, bringing extra treats to the table. We play Mexican Train Dominoes on the lanai, and wait for the sunset.

Mexican train dominoes!

We cruise out in the dinghy to a manta ray hangout, but are skunked on sightings. There were many the day before, just not our luck! But we meet a sweet couple who have paddled across the channel to collect shellfish in the reef. They give us mangoes, and cut them for us to eat when they realize we don’t have a knife in the dinghy (not touching that gorgeous mango with a fishy dive knife. oh no). I flashback to PNG and the total ubiquity of knives and machetes.

In front of the resort, we discover the most amazing collection of fish hanging out right under the jetty. There are at least four lionfish, but instead of hiding in nooks and crannies, they are floating around in full display. It is both alarming and spectacular. Masses of glassfish part for the lighting fast passes of predatory trevally. Pairs of moorish idols and a school of batfish just kind of glam around looking fabulous. We should have stayed here!

We end up spending two nights in front of the resort. It’s just too nice and relaxing to leave after only one, especially when faced with the far less appealing anchorage in Sorong- where the water attractions will be dirty diapers floating by instead of jumping needlefish. It means we’ll only have one day to get everything we need in Sorong before Dan arrives, but we are feeling up to the task.

The second afternoon, a squall kicks up. It peaks around 45 knots. Not awful, but we think about how anxious we would be if we had anchored. I am trapped ashore with the kids: there’s a steep chop built up between the jetty and the boat, and the rain is epic. It’s fine, though. The chef (new best friend to the kids) makes them hot cocoa while we watch a movie on the iPad and wait for the weather to settle.

As it does.

Raja Ampat: turning back south again

Muscat's aft deck
We move on from our teacup anchorage to find one more spot for a last hurrah with Nalukai and Muscat. There’s a sweet collection of islands just a few miles north, and since there’s not enough wind to sail, everyone is happy to minimize the motoring distance.

Pulau Pef turns out to be a lot less friendly than the impression we were given by their pretty photos in the Raja Ampat tourist office. For the privilege of one night anchoring off their island (not using a mooring they have installed, not going ashore, not using resort facilities) they want 25 euros per person. On our boat, that’s more than the cost of an annual pass to Raja Ampat- for one night! It might happen in some parts of the world (Caribbean?), but here, it’s very unusual. The vibe from the Swiss fellow on shore is pretty clear: we’re not wanted there. It’s too late to change anchorages, so we decide just to leave in the morning and make the most of it.

We’ll part ways the next day, so it’s time for a little celebrating. Muscat hosts, and is decked with party lights.

Skits have been in the works: the children have been practicing a Monty Python routine, but lose their nerve. It’s hard to do anything when you are giggling hard! Nalukai treats us to the Time Warp dance (this is a family night, so Jeremy has kept his costume at an appropriate G rated level).

Christmas party

It’s a beautiful evening, one we thoroughly enjoy despite the sorrow at saying goodbye to our friends. They are heading towards the Philippines, and we’re headed back to Sorong (to pick up Dan) and then on through Indonesia. We’ll catch up again this year… Malaysia? Thailand? Not sure where, but confident that it will happen.

Totem at sunset

Raja Ampat: lingering with friends

I suppose if we were determined to tick the boxes of “things you are supposed to see and do” in Raja Ampat, we would have left our teacup anchorage after another day. But it’s friends who make a place memorable, and we are having too much fun with our friends on Nalukai and Muscat to contemplate a move. Our days blend together.

The children run and swim and hours of freestyle playing and exploring, just as they should. There are endless jaunts between the boats and a small beach where they have set up camp, complete with hermit crab forts and sand castles. They can jump right off the boat to swim around to the coral garden, or just to paddle around. Siobhan provides a ferry service to Willow in her new SUP/kayak style.

Siobhan paddling Willow

A bird of prey (sea eagle?) treats us to wheeling and diving right behind the transom. He misses this one, but caught others.

missed that one!

Around the corner from our little nook, there’s a beach with a few shelters used by itinerant fishermen (and the odd foreign kayaker, it turns out). It is the perfect spot to kick around in the afternoon.

There is a swing, and a line of patient children who wait their turn.

waiting patiently to swing

Fiercely competitive bocce ball breaks out.

Serious bocce game

The beach is nicely shaded for much of the day: a bonus in this heat. We string up a hammock to make the most of our pretty spot.

Swinging in the hammock

The snorkeling just off the bay is spectacular, and this side of the island is just outside the conservation area- so spearfishing is ON.  The grouper are large, and at least initially, are unfazed by our presence- excellent dinners are procured. Jeremy is a spearfishing newbie, but proves lethal. Jamie lands some beauties. I still can’t reload the spear on my own- that’s a problem that needs fixing!

Fish, hours from the sea, cooked on a beach fire. It doesn’t get much better than that.

Fish on the grill

The firepit has a rough table and bench; with a few camp chairs added, it’s the perfect place to get together for dinner. A bag of marshmallows is found in some corner of the bilge, and the kids get to have a roast.

beach bonfire

We’re joined on our last night by a fisherman who paddles into the beach. He’s hard for me to understand because he doesn’t have many teeth, but we get that he’ll use one of the shelters overnight, and is pleased to share the spot. We share our dinner with him, and Muscat give him some gas for his outboard. It turns out he’s quite a long way from home but had been paddling to conserve fuel. With the generosity of those who have little to give, he insists on giving us a beautiful fish from his catch.

Beautiful

Raja Ampat: now THAT’S what we came for

It happens. Our next anchorage, which becomes referred to as “the teacup” for it’s wee size and general shape, is such a slice of heaven that we decide to stay for days and days. We scout it out, then lure Nalukai and Muscat to our position. It’s not too difficult.

Nalukai
Nalukai anchors all the way inside; lines to shore help keep us both in place

Tucked between two islands, it’s a deep cut that makes it hard to effectively. The shoreline is about fifty yards on either side of Totem, and the water is around ninety feet deep- so even putting out all 400 feet of chain, we don’t really have enough scope given the squalls that roll through most afternoons. Besides, once that all that stretches out- we end up on the rocks. No thank you! We still drop the hook, but secure lines to shore as well.

While Jamie and Jeremy are fiddling with lines on Totem and Nalukai (there is an aborted attempt to create a raft), Niall and I decide to just get our heads in the water already, and dive in. We meander around the perimeter of our teacup. The sides are very steep-to, and drop to the bottom of the basin in just a few yards. The coral looks like it was the victim of dynamite fishing- disappointing, although we’re not sure.

As we get around the point of our little anchorage and turn the corner into the channel that opens to the sea, everything changes. It happens so quickly, we can’t believe it. Niall and I are having a massively exuberant “conversation” underwater without actually saying anything to each other, but with may wild gesticulations and ecstatic expressions. Quite simply, we are blown away. We decide on the spot that this is the most dramatic coral reef we’ve ever snorkeled. That is a massive statement, and I’d back off somewhat with the heat of the moment in hindsight, but it truly is awesome and certainly among the best.

What makes it so amazing? It seems to have everything. There is a great variety of corals: hard corals creating the architecture of the reef, with soft corals adding a flow on top that is alternately gaudy and gauzy. The colors are amazing. And the fish- oh, wow, the fish. It starts with a few large racoons- OK, interesting. Then there’s the school of curious barracuda that follows us. Cute! And then the explosion occurs, when we come just around the bend to see more than we can really comprehend or take in at once. Swirling schools of tiny baitfish, a group of bumphead parrotfish (with a big 4-footer in the lead), anemones with cheeky clownfish popping in and out, schools of some kind of fan-tailed trigger we’ve never seen before, and just masses of colorful reef fish. I cannot begin to describe it well.

It is such a shame that our underwater camera died prematurely. I have mourned it throughout PNG and I’m really mourning it now. But the good news: after we left Sorong, we learned that we’ll be having a visitor from home- soon! Orders are hurriedly placed, and the promise of a new camera is exciting…but I regret not having a chance to capture this early impression of the amazing Raja Ampat region.

Nudging north in Raja Ampat

Getting ourselves out of Sorong (finally). We have almost a month to play in Raja Ampat, which sounds like a lot, but we already know it’s going to be impossible to see as much as we would like. So every day we don’t leave Sorong is a day we don’t spend in the beautiful islands. Not to put a negative spin in it, but we’re motivated to get ourselves along.

We’re in company with Nalukai and Muscat. They’re great fun and we decide that rather than make tracks to some of the more distant (but famous) spots in the region, we’ll enjoy our time with them. The level of awesomeness here is all in little degrees of difference anyway, and with waning days to spend together (they are planning to head north toward the Philippines and Malaysia, while we’ll be going south to continue through Indonesia)- we want to make the most of our time.

Glassy anchorage. Bev and I had the most amazing yoga practice in front of this view!

The first spot is ethereal. It appears to be a jungle-clad shoreline, spiked with inlets, but as we get close we realize it’s actually a maze of islands. It’s hard to tell where the “main” island is and which are just the fringing islets- there are so many! Waking to see our new surroundings in the early morning light, rising mist helps provide definition. 

it’s still impossible to discern the extent of the maze of islets 

Later in the morning, I take the kids for a kayak paddle to explore. The water is very clear, and we can see beautiful fish and corals below. It’s so exciting to have our first peek at this famous area! We decide to go around the backside of the islands closest to Totem, only to realize that there’s not just one row of them. There are islands after islands after islands. You could get lost in there!

In the afternoon, we blaze out with Nalukai to a dive site called “the passage” at the western end of the bay. We’re all really excited to get underwater, and it’s fun to be pulled through with the current, but a little underwhelming. A few fields of pretty soft coral, streaming in the flow of the water, but not many fish and not a great deal of variety of either. The underwater gardens that Raja Ampat is famous for are still ahead. 

Back at the anchorage, a dugout with a family on board stops by. The Papuans are from a village around the corner of the bay. They’d like some gas. I ask if they’d like to trade- do they have any fish? No, they don’t have any fish- can we give them some anyway? We have full jerry cans on deck- I point out that these are diesel, and we don’t have a lot of gas. But we give them a bit anyway, it seems like the right thing to do. That, and we’d rather stay on good terms. It also helps open the good opportunity to ask a few questions, through which we learn that there are crocodiles here. He tells us not to worry, that as long as the sun is up overhead, there is no danger. I’m thinking that he and I have different scales for evaluating danger.

Between the crocs and the coral, we’ll be moving on in the morning.

Too long in Sorong

Sorong is a necessary evil. OK, not evil, but it’s not a terribly interesting place- yet it’s on the edge of the very spectacular Raja Ampat, which we can’t wait to get into. But we have to stop here for a few reasons. First, there are required passes for tourists in Raja Ampat, which are purchased from the office in Sorong. Then, we need to fine propane. We haven’t refilled our LPG bottles since we left Australia, and are probably getting close to cooking on fumes. Not to mention- if I don’t get to a market soon, we won’t have much to cook anyway!

Creepy looking squall? We must be coming into port.

As is our theme lately, we arrive in a nasty squall. This is a trend we would really like to break! The harbor is packed with boats, from the large ferry at the terminal, to a few container ships, to the masses of fishing and dive charter boats in the harbor. We learn later form the tourist office that more than 40 liveaboard dive boats are based here during the peak season (December to March, when the clarity is best).

Even a dusty town can be fun. We scout out some excellent food with Nalukai, and stuff ourselves on chicken & noodles while making a new friend.

Lunch at a Rumah Makan with Muscat, Nalukai, and our new best friend Major Andre. OK, don’t know if he’s really a major…

I fall in love with the town market, which is a covered rabbit warren of tiny wood stalls and probably a massive firetrap. But it has nice fresh produce (even if a good portion of the offerings are unfamiliar), and friendly vendors who are eager to connect. It’s not part of Papuan culture to bargain, so asking price is generally “harga biasa” – you aren’t expected to counter with a big discount, although you might need to if you’re quoted an inflated buleh (foreigner) price. I’m happy to postpone bargaining for later in Indonesia- I know it’s coming!

Joking around with the guys in the fish section of the market. Oh boy, even if I couldn’t speak Indonesian, they would have cracked me up.

Some of the people I meet are too friendly: I’m pulled into conversations by Papuans who want to tell me about the rebel movement in Papua, and how Papuans are mistreated by the Indonesian government. My desire to listen to their story is outweighed by my need to keep my family safe, and so I beg off or pretend not to understand them. This is painful.

We meet an enterprising local guy, Victor. His family has a large equipment business, but that doesn’t give him much of an outlet for the excellent English skills he honed going to University in Australia. He shuttles Iona (Nalukai) and I around to grocery stores and favorite restaurants. We are pleased to have a shortcut to excellent Padang style takeout to bring to the boats for dinner! Victor is immensely helpful with everything from laundry to grocery runs to propane, and a really pleasant guy to hang out with in the bargain.

It takes much longer than we expect to accomplish our Sorong punch list. The big sticking point is propane. We still don’t have a proper adaptor, but a system has been jury-rigged. It’s far from failsafe (and the hose ends up blowing up under pressure before we can use all the gas) but it gets at least one of our tanks refilled.

Goal: 2-3 days. End result: 5 days, but lots of good food and good memories.

Oh FAD it! Or, the SE Asian marine obstacle course

There’s a special boater’s hell in Southeast Asia in the FAD minefields. FADs, or Fish Aggregating Devices, range from something just larger than a bathtub to football field sized platforms with living quarters on top.

This is the big daddy of fishing platforms- look for the guys on top for scale. Photo by sv Nalukai.

Most of what we’ve seen in Indonesia so far looks more like this.

A small FAD

Even the smallest are generally made up of a few drums lashed together, some styrofoam or other floatation, with a rebar rod or three on top. They would be devastating to hit at night. But they’re not lit, and they don’t show up on radar, so doding them is a little tricky.

The really monstrous sized platforms are at least well lit. I suspect that’s part of the strategy, though- bringing fish in at night. They’ll show up on a radar, not that the Christmas-tree lighting helps them require any more distance identification.

In Cenderawasih Bay, just below where we anchor in Biak, these platforms have become interesting for another reason- they’re home to massive whale sharks. The sharks feed on smaller fish under the bagan. Thankfully they are considered good luck by the fishermen, and not threatened.

But the little FADs… these are more of a worry. Most of the FADs are near shore, which helps us avoid them, but they have no lights, they don’t show up on radar, and they would be nearly impossible to see at night. As we prepare to spend a couple of nights out on our passage to Sorong- it’s still something I worry about.

Playing Tourist in Biak

We go to the market in the morning look for a ‘bemo’ (the minivan/bus system that operates as public transportation all over Indonesia). The public market is a de facto bus terminal, and we’re quickly able to secure a car and driver for the day. It’s nice to be in a country where this is readily affordable- split between three boats, it’s downright cheap- we’ll end up spending about $10 each for our day of being driven around.

Our first stop is a large cave where thousands of Japanese soldiers hid during World War II.

WWII relics, biak
WWII artifacts are strewn around the grounds of the museum

It eventually became their tomb, when allied forces attacked the site. We’re caught in a squall during our visit, and lightning into the caves adds a spectacularly eerie touch. I decide to wait until after we exit to point out how close the bats were swooping to the children’s heads. Creepy. It’s impossible not to think about the lives that ended here- the cave opens up with a gaping hole above, where allies bombed and killed all within.

The family who has the cave on their land has built a small museum. Spread all around the lawn are bombs (unexploded?!) and shells by the dozen. The shell of an old car rusts next to a stack of equally aged fuel drums- there’s even a partial airplane fuselage.

Inside the closet-sized museum (truly, we can just fit in a few bodies and turn around) is an astonishing collection of artifacts. Everything from belt buckles to award medals, knives, guns, watches, glass ampoules (of what?), and Japanese currency- to a hanging rod of original uniforms. There are even a few swords, the brutal reminder of an execution method of choice.

Niall has become very well informed on WWII, reading everything he can get his hands on since we left Australia. The wrecks in PNG fed his interest, but these small relics are entirely different category than what we’ve seen to date. He’s so excited, he runs around photographing it all for memory- that’s one of his photos above.

The skies clear somewhat, and we head out to a bird park. The famous Bird of Paradise is endemic to this area, but tricky to see in the wild- we expect to settle for peek at the caged version.

Unfortunately, the park is closed. What happens next is completely typical. Instead of accepting defeat, our driver says he’s pretty sure the guy with the key is in the village just down the road. I have no idea if he really knows this or is just hoping, but we go trundling off and sure enough- 10 minutes later, we’ve found our keeper. He’s happy to jump on his motorbike and come back to the park to open it up for us.

I should have remembered how depressing zoos can be. The birds are segregated by species, and none of the cages seem quite big enough. They are stunning, to be sure. Ironically, the lone Bird of Paradise is the least interesting of the bunch. It doesn’t’ sport the famous tailfeathers, so really just looks like a fat white pigeon. We’re quickly getting munched by mosquitoes.

We head back into town, and I get a run at the grocery store. Our driver is a huge help. He comes with us, helps carry bags, and helps find things that I can’t locate. It’s the most efficient stock-up in a long time.

In an effort to promote hero status when we get back to the boat, we pick up dinner to bring back. I had found a street vendor selling on my first jaunt into town to track down the harbormaster after our arrival and am pretty sure this will be a slam dunk- and entertaining enough to hold the kids while we wait for them to be prepared.

Hungry kids are so patient waiting for their martabak treat!

Martabak is a pastry generally filled with a mixture of eggs, onions, and meat (street vendors usually make just one, but the storefront restaurants offer sweet and savory). The drama comes with the vendor takes his golf-ball sized lump of dough, then flattens and pushes and eventually spins it- picture pizza dough spinning- into a large, whisper thin sheet. It is lowered by one edge into a large flat wok, which the vendor folds as he goes, then pours in the egg-veggie-meat mixture until it’s a rectangular pillow around the savory filling within. Each one is cut into pieces and boxed to go. They are so nuclear, that even when we get to the boat and all collect on Nalukai for a sundowner and our martabak about half an hour later, they’re still very warm to the touch. Little savory pillows of Indonesian heaven- for about $2.50 each. We might have to go back tomorrow…