No Stings Paradise

Derawan Island, Indonesia (map)

In this blog: travelling through rural Indonesia, staying on a tropical desert island, swimming with jellyfish, manta rays and turtles, and a spot of diving.

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Beautiful Derawan island

Our guesthouse built on stilts in the water - idyllic

Wild plants, short palm trees and mangrove forest on the shore of the huge brown river with mountains in the background. Tin huts, lagoons and small inlets visible every so often briefly. Fishermen wearing Chinese hats in small wooden boats. 

This was the view from the cramped speedboat we were on, heading from the island of Tarakan upriver on a long and disjointed journey en-route to the Derawan islands. The three 250hp engines chucked the boat along at a decent pace, whilst I watched with disbelief as some fellow passengers wore coats whilst I sweated profusely in the fairly humid near-30° heat. We reached the town of Tanjung Selor, and Rene (my Canadian travel buddie) and I headed to catch a share taxi to Berau, being told to wait despite everyone including the driver being ready to go. And for an hour or so for no particular reason we waited. Welcome to Indonesian time.

Finally we were on the road, heading through heavily logged hills which seem to have since been abandoned, now just covered in green scrub and burnt-out tree stumps. Very simple wooden houses raised off the ground lined the road which you could easily mistake for chicken shacks - even after India I was slightly shocked by this basic existence that these people lived. The road surface was sometimes good but often terrible - full of potholes and undulating as if the tarmac had been laid straight onto fresh mud, and the driver insisted on playing loud cheesy dance music all the way. We stopped at a remote cafe - a bare bones chicken shack which seemed to sell only dry old fish from a glass case and instant noodles. We stuck with the noodles thanks. Eventually we entered the city of Berau, looking in disbelief when our car passed a couple of men casually selling a few guns beside the road. What! Who knows what the story was there.

The driver dropped us in what seemed a very random spot and after a few minutes of confused charade-like exchanges, he made a phone call and almost miraculously a taxi then showed up. We were quoted £7 (140,000 rupiah) to hire it for the next 2.5hr journey to reach the port. It seemed too good to be true - we were sure we would be fleeced at the other end somehow, but unbelievably it was fine. 

At the little coastal town of Tanjung Batu we reached the port hoping to take a boat to our final destination of Derawan island, but it was now dusk and turned out to be too late. We decided to head to find a guesthouse but having no luck after half an hour of walking, a couple of locals then took pity on us and kindly offered to drive us a mile or so out of town on their scooters, so we took them up on it. We were taken to the most basic of guesthouses - so basic there was no sink and just a bucket shower, and a nights stay cost £1.50 each including a tea and donut for breakfast! We asked the owner where we go to eat that night, and without even knowing our names just handed us his scooter keys and pointed along the road to a cafe. Such trust and kindness.

Derawan Island

Bright and breezy the following morning we arrived at our home for the next few days - the tiny island of Derawan - after an exciting half-hour speedboat ride. To our surprise this was an island dominated by locals rather than tourists so unlike say Thailand, where the residents grew weary of Jonny Foreigner decades ago and just want your cash, the folk of Derawan were always full of smiles and 'hello misters' as you walked past. In fact most tourists who visit are on holiday from other parts of Indonesia itself, and we only saw six or seven foreigners in four days. Tourism often corrupts locals, but Derawan seemed as wholesome as it ever was.

We soon found an idyllic spot to stay - in a line of brightly painted terraced huts built on stilts out to sea, where both the front and back doors open to a deck on the waters edge - one of the best locations I've ever stayed in for sure.

It was warm but grey and dull, and we went for a wander to explore. The island is small enough that you can lap it in under an hour but we took our time, passing through a smart resort, a modest Muslim graveyard, and past the islands power station which surprisingly comprised mostly of solar panels - very progressive for a small third-world island I thought. We explored the beaches which were clean and extremely quiet and palm trees swayed overhead, which of course qualified it instantly as a proper tropical island. On a wooden pier nearby, kids tried fishing with line and unbaited hook and I sat to watch the shoals of fish swimming below, as well as gazing at the other islands in the distance, before without realising it dozing off for twenty minutes. This leisurely pace of life was as infective as rabies it seemed.

Walking back across the island on the sandy dirt roads, we passed the colourful wooden homes of the residents which were all tidy and well kept, and young kids played freely outside. Despite the small size of the island people were buzzing around everywhere on scooters, and strangely age didn't seem to matter with boys and girls as young as eleven taking to the roads in twos or threes. It was like real life Bugsy Malone.

Snorkelling

The waters around the island were full of beautiful tropical fish and coral, so that afternoon we hired a mask and snorkel and went for a look. Tentatively walking out through the shallow water I saw a stingray for the first time - the Steve Irwin killer - darting around and then hiding under a rock. The nearest coral to shore had been destroyed by dynamite fishing (yes really!) but further out was much better. There was lots to see, and with Rene's expert help I spotted lots of trumpetfish, boxfish, triggerfish, a miniature lion fish, sea urchins, batfish, a giant clam plus loads more besides. 

The highlight however was getting to swim with turtles - we spotted seven in total that afternoon, gliding gracefully underwater, and we were able to just keep up when followeing them. Getting out at a pier along the shore, we decided it was a perfect spot to jump off the two metre high deck, again, and again, and again. Rene mastered the backflip whilst I was satisfied with just learning to dive, which after a rather painful bellyflop I eventually somewhat did. Great fun.

Boat trip

This was truly a day to remember, action packed all the way. 

Derawan is part of an archipelago, a group of islands, and after a lot of asking around we'd managed to group up with two Taiwanese girls, Miow and Sushu, to charter a speedboat for the day to see a couple of them. Along with our divemaster and all the diving gear, we squeezed into the little boat and roared off into what was initially nothingness, just a flat empty horizon. After an hour or so later we reached Kakaban island which looks a little like a magnifying glass from the air thanks to the saltwater lake in it's centre. 

With our diving gear on we left the speedboat into the deep blue below. This was my first dive as a qualified scuba diver, having completing a PADI course a couple of weeks before so it was liberating to be able to move about of my own free will without instruction. A few hundred metres away from shore, the shallow water dropped down suddenly, and we followed the near vertical wall of coral downwards to as deep as 22m below sea level. There wasn't a great deal of fish and he light was a bit dull, but there was  some huge fan corals and interesting features to see anyway.

Stingless jellyfish

After the dive we walked inland over a rocky volcanic ridge to the lake at it's centre - a very special lake, for this was one of only two places in the world where you find stingless jellyfish. With no natural predators around, these jellyfish evolved over hundreds if not thousands of years to loose their sting and are now completely inert.

Despite all you've been told about them being harmless, it's very difficult to make that first move and actually touch one of them. Just like doing a skydive or cuddling a tame tiger - you know it should be safe but your brain won't quite let you do it without having a wobble first. But once I did it was a very special and perculier experience. 

Jellyfish have no eyes so you'd often just feel one bumping into your skin accidentally, strange at first but you get used to it. Once you touch them with your fingers you find they feel just like silicone; all rubbery and squidgy and you soon find yourself picking them up and moving them around like pawns on a chessboard. Rene went as far as kissing one, but reckons there was actually a tiny bit of sting in it - enough to get him on the thin skin of his lip! As tempting as it was to stay all day it was time to get back in the boat and head onto the second island - Sagalaki. 

Despite the dark skies and rain, Sagalaki still looked beautiful - a small uninhabited coral cay that I managed to walk right around in twenty minutes. We snorkelled just offshore for a while where there was a great variety of fish and coral to see, and on the island itself we were shown a crate containing a dozen baby turtles which were born that morning, who wriggled around much faster than you'd expect of a creature so stereotypically slow. 

The grand finale for this big day was one to equal the jellyfish though - swimming with manta rays. The seas just off Sangalaki are known for these huge, very strange looking flatfish, which have the shape of a stealth bomber but the majesty and grace of a bird as they move along underwater, and they can grow to huge wingspans, apparently up to seven meres. We were fortunate enough to be able to spot one from the boat and jump in to swim alongside it - this one was about two metres wide and easily outswum me. After bobbing around for a minute or two I was suddenly faced with three of them coming towards me - despite their size they're completely harmless, but I didn't know that at that moment! Upon spotting the approaching pack I tensed and really wasn't sure what to do so hurriedly shuffling sideways, only for them to change direction and take off. Phew.

Almost horizontal

It was 6.30am and I rubbed my eyes, wondering what was going on as cheesy ballad music loudly blasted through the guesthouse. I tired to ignore it but it was impossible so stepped onto the balcony to see a lone builder next door merrily painting away. I felt a bit rude telling the locals what to do, but I'm sure I wasn't the only one rudely awoken and after a bit of sign language via his next door neighbour all was back to normal in Camp Derawan. The ignorance!

We decided to have a day of nothing to make the most of being on this desert island, which as ever turned into two days. Listening to music in the shade, drinking tea, watching purple crabs climb the decking and boats passing by and looking at divers heading out to sea, and reading my book - this was all Derawan demanded of me and for that I was grateful. We hung around some of the time with a proper Australian lady in her forties who stayed next door - Marie - who was a air stewardess for Quantas. She wasn't the brightest nor seemed to listen to anything we ever said, but it didn't really matter as she was good fun, kind and friendly. She was also very helpful when I stepped on a sea urchin in shallow water - a spiky creature that lies on the sea floor that is covered in sharp venomous spikes, which was a painful moment. With a bucket of hot water and a pair of tweezers all was soon back to normal though.

I spent late afternoon both days reading on the beach to the south of the island, leaning against a huge piece of driftwood. Barely a soul passed by in two or three hours, except a couple of large local groups of women and girls who wanted their photo taken with me - just as I found in India, foreigners are truly a novelty in this part of Indonesia. The sea was so calm to be almost mirror like, and only the odd fishing boat put-putting it's way across the horizon broke the view and total peace. It was heaven, a level of relaxation only being on an island can bring.

Fishy business

Finally in this extra-long, slightly smug (sorry), but hopefully not too tedious blog, I thought I'd mention the food. With little forms of employment on the island but fishing it was no surprise that seafood was plentiful. We ate seafood every lunch and tea time for £1-2 a meal - at different times crab, battered calamari, cuttlefish in sauce, baked whole fish, fried shrimps, garlic coated squid - all served with rice and side dishes and all fantastic, though dissecting the crab required the skill, dexterity and patience of a surgeon, which I'm most certainly not. 

The Derawan archipelago was a proper pain to get to so I'm not surprised it's off the tourist trail, but that makes it as fantastic as it is and I hope it stays that way for anyone who make the effort to get there.

Indonesia - so far, so good.

Swimming with turtles - a great experience

Stingless jellyfish

Swimming with stingless jellyfish - very bizarre

Coral during snorkelling

Local ferry/speedboat to Tanjung Selor

Kids playing marbles at Tanjung Selor

Speedboat to Derawan island

Baby turtle, hatched that morning

Tiny Sangalaki island

Main street on Derawan, where nothing seemed to ever happen

Leaving Derawan. Local ladies wanted their picture taken with us!

PADI

Mabul Island, Malaysian Borneo (map)

In this blog: a rude awakening, learning how to scuba dive, and swimming with turtles.

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I felt someone pulling my leg. 'Steve, wake up' Tof whispered, sat on the floor of the bus whilst I sat asleep on the reclining seat. It was 3.30am and I was now in that period of confusion you get when awaken prematurely. I rubbed my eyes, then looked up and understood why Tof woke me. A couple of metres front of me in the passageway of the bus stood a Malaysian Police officer with an M16 assault rifle strapped across his chest. Was this some weird dream? No, this was really happening. 

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We were on a nightbus heading for Semporna, having got on at the small service town of Renau. There was only one bus, and with diving booked for the next morning we had to take it, the only trouble being that there were no seats left - 'that's fine, you can sleep in the passageway' said the driver, and before I knew it we were on board, the wheels were rolling, and having had no time to think I had no choice but to lump it.

I hate night buses; you miss out on seeing great scenery but most of all, I can never sleep properly on them. Reluctantly I tagged along with our Borneo travel gang who wanted to save time and money by doing it this way instead of the day bus, but once onboard I wished I hadn't. After half an hour of talking and laughing about what was happening, the reality hit me - I had eight hours ahead of trying to sleep on the slippery lino floor of a bus which was constantly twisting and turning on the windy Borneo roads, with no bedding and just a small air pillow. Whilst the bus itself was really high quality, the floor was as you might expect a terrible spot to snooze and after three hours I'd not slept a wink. At a service station the driver very nicely cleaned the toilet, only to walk back along said passageway with his sopping wet shoes leaving marks everywhere. Our beds! We dried the floor ourselves, but I was extremely grateful when soon after, a couple of passengers got off at their stops and I could take finally lay back on a recliner and eventually doze off. Until the point as mentioned earlier when like the other passengers, I was rudely awakened. 

We were at a security checkpost and as far as I know it was just a routine search since we weren't too far from the Philippeans. The Police officer worked his way back the bus asking for everyone's ID, and firmly without being rude looked at my passport and blurted 'what's your name?', 'why are you here?' 'where are you going?' before promptly moving on. When he posed these questions to Rene, he joyfully ended with 'welcome to Malaysia'! It wasn't scary, but was certainly unexpected. As if this didn't wake us up enough, the bus driver insisted on continuing to play rock and dance music through the bus speakers all night long. Oh, the ignorance! Why, oh why, oh why.

Mabul island

Gone diving

We arrived at Semporna at 5am, and sat half dozing in a 24 hour cafe nearby for a couple of hours before heading to the office of Billabong Scuba - for we were going diving. After an introductory dive in Jordan last November, I was really taken by diving - the sight of the beautiful coral, the exotic fish, the sensation of floating stresslessly deep underwater. However, unlike the other guys I was travelling with, I didn't have the necessary PADI licence to be able to dive in anything other than playschool conditions, so I decided the time was now and signed up for a 3-day PADI Open Water course, thankfully getting on a course there and then thanks to a cancellation. At 8am, we were on a speedboat heading forty-five minutes out to the small island of Mabul, our home for three days.

It turned out to be a pretty small island; you could walk right around it in twenty minutes, and it was fringed by shallow sandy waters which later dropped off suddenly into the ocean. It was a slightly strange place in that almost all the buildings including our hotel stood on stilts in the shallow waters, which stood side-by-side to the homes of very poor locals who etched out a living fishing in rickety little boats. I felt uncomfortable walking around the village, not cause of safety, but just in the knowledge that whilst I was swanning about in comfort able to spend my day at leisure, these poor folks lived next door in such basic living conditions. It's a situation westerners often face in developing countries, but you just have to deal with it - it's not your fault and it's not theirs, we just live in two different worlds.

The first day of the course was theory based, and along with a great young Malaysian couple who spoke English as their first language (as some do), we watched the cheesy course DVD, then spent a few hours reading the course material. Diving is safe if done correctly, but can be dangerous if not so we learnt about how to plan a dive, who to go with, the required equipment, the composition of air and a thousand other things. Having not used my brain that much in the past ten months, it was a little frazzled by all the information come the diving quiz at end of the day.

Getting ready to dive

Dive 1

The second day we could finally get out in the water, but not after we'd been taught how to set up our own equipment, a fairly complicated and intimidating affair initially, but very straightforward once you know how. The three of use were taken on the dive boat by our instructor, Wong, who was of course always right (sorry), to a fairly shallow spot the other side of the island where we sat on the edge of the boat, and were told to simply fall back into the sea. In the water were taught how to use the mouthpiece (regulator), how to descend and ascend by adding or removing air from the jackets, how to remove water from your face masks whilst underwater (simple really), and how to get the right boyency. A basic but fun first dive.

Dive 2

After lunch we went out again, this time learning how to use someone else's mouthpiece (regulator) if you run out of air and how to safely ascend to the surface afterwards, amongst other exercises. We went for a short fun dive after this, and were fortunate enough to see two large turtles resting on the sea bed, one of whom gracefully swum off once we woke him up, which was a pretty special experience.

Before dark we independently went out snorkelling just offshore, where I saw the weird-looking trumpet fish amongst others, and again saw and swum above a large turtle for a while. Whilst I'd been on my course, my travel buddies of Max, Tof and Rene had been on a trip out to the nearby island Sipadan, which is regarded as one of the top five best dive spots in the world, and that night the showed me the videos, inducing one of how they came within metres of fifteen hammerhead sharks; some experience.

It was time again that night for more reading and revising, followed by a final exam. My brain was out of memory and 10pm was not the time to be doing exams, so I gently protested and managed to persuade them to let me defer to to the next day. Phew.

The final countdown

The last day at Mabul we set our for the third dive, which entailed some more advanced training such as removing and refitting all your dive gear underwater, and swimming without your mask amongst other things. It was all fairly straightforward, and most of it prepared you for emergency situations rather than just basic diving. 

'I'm OK'

On the fourth dive it was finally time for a bit of fun - training was over, and we were taken out to a spot where the shallow sandy plateaux suddenly dropped deeply into the sea leaving an steep wall of coral. We were free at last, able to do and see what we wanted and it felt great. The coral was reasonably varied, but the fish a little limited in variety but I didn't care, it was just great to have the knowledge and freedom to dive as you like, and we maxxed out at 15m below sea level. Back at HQ I finished off the multiple choice exam which thankfully I passed, and before I knew it that was it, we had to leave.

It had been a very different few days of this trip. A bit taxing on the grey matter but still relaxing in between, and we met some interesting folks from Holland, Malaysia and Australia who were good to chat with. The diving had been enjoyable despite the fact it was training, and the snorkelling a nice diversion especially being able to see the turtles. I look forward to being able to dive again soon away from the shackles of education, and with a ferry crossing into Indonesia coming in the next few days, it might not be too far away.

Stilt chalets on Mabul island

With our instructor, Wong - left

Former exploratory oil platform just off the island, 

now converted as a dive resort - novel idea

Mabul island as you approach

Heading out for the final dive

Starfish

Surfing couches, diving seas

Aqaba, Jordan

Couchsurfing is exactly as it sounds - people let you stay with them for free, and you let others stay with you at a later date. It's a great way to see a place in a whole different way, meet some interesting people and learn a lot about the real country. I've tried to use it a number of times on this trip, directly contacting a number of people in different places but to no avail. However, other people also have the option of inviting you to stay, and one evening sat in 'the cafe' in Amman I recieved a simple invitation message from 'Mohammed AlShafey', which simply said 'you are welcome'. I was intrigued. He had  information about himself on his profile page, but no-one had indicated they've stayed with him before so still the mystery - it's a bit like eBay in that you build a reputation over time. I replied and learnt a bit more, and got enough of a good enough feeling to go for it.

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I really enjoyed the bus journey from Amman to his place in Aqaba; a city in the south of Jordan on the Red Sea; it was often pretty plain, but a real contrast to other countries I've visited on this trip. Two hundred odd miles of desert, indispersed with small villages, people selling petrol by the road, Police checkpoints and finally a descent down to the Dead Sea through towering mountains with stripy lines running through them. I got to Aqaba around five, expecting to walk to my host's house when a guy smiled and said 'Hi Steve' - Mohammed had guessed which bus I'd arrived on and come to collect me - a great start. He's a thirty-five year old Head of Strategic Planning for the regional water board; quite a responsibility in a country where it doesn't really rain. He has a fiancé who lives in America but he lives in a suburban semi, with his Mum occupying the other side, and I was given a sofa bed for a few days. We sat down and started chatting, and it soon became apparent he's a very intelligent and deep thinking guy. He's studied both Artificial Intelligence and Neuroscience in the States, and has loads of equally challenging interests.

We talked water, personality profiling, travel, religion, Jordan, hiking in India and a thousand other subjects, and I can't say I was able to grasp everything he explained, but had a good go. We suddenly realised it was nearly eleven pm and we hadn't actually eaten, so went into town for a chicken wrap, Jordanian style, and he encouraged me to grab a beer. I was thinking we were going home to eat and drink, but instead there was a change of plan, and we sat by the beach. So I'm in a Muslim country where alcohol is strictly against the religion, and there I am in public drinking a can of strong local beer wrapped in a plastic bag to try and hide it; not the done thing and very trampish of me, but no one seemed to notice thankfully.

The next day I hired a snorkel, got dropped a few miles down the road to an excellent local spot known as 'The Japanese Garden', and waded into the Red Sea for the first time. I've not snorkelled for a few years, and forgot what a great experience it is; just quietly floating around looking at brightly colored and funky shaped coral reef, with tropical fish darting between. Hours passed without me really noticing and the light started dying. Watching the sunset, I looked around and realaised what a unique location this was - I could clearly see the coastline of Egypt, Israel and Saudi Arabia, all of which was within ten miles; not every day you can say that. 

The Japanese Garden

I'd planned to catch up on a few jobs that evening, but once again Mohammed and I ended up talking til late, with the only interruption being his Mum dropping in a meal she'd prepared for me; a dish called Dolma (actually Turkish) - stuffed grape leaves, stuffed corgette and stuffed aubegine with slow cooked lamb. A very sweet lady and a delicious meal. 

Wednesday morning, I woke up feeling pretty excited, for I was off to do my first ever scuba dive. The Red Sea is known to be a good spot for it, and the instructor decided we were going to a spot called 'the tank'. It was a quiet day for them obviously, as it ended up being just me and him - a guy from Peru. On the shore he set up the equipment and I put on the wetsuit and flippers. We waded in to shallow waters, and he started explaining the basic principles of diving, which all seemed quite straightforward. He then had me doing exercises by just putting my face under, and it was then time 
for the main event...

That moment you first start descending and realise that your life depends on the air regulator - the mouthpiece - is a strange and unnatural one. It's very hard to trust this abnormal way of breathing, and I naturally felt quite tense, seeing lots of bubbles pass in front of my mask as I breathed in and out heavily. Once I settled a bit we started going down, and I saw the tank for the first time - not a container as I expected, but an actual old army tank. After going back to surface to check all was OK, we descended for the second time, much deeper than the five meter depth of the tank this time, floating around the large chunks of reef on the sea bed. The sensation felt like a cross between skydiving and swimming combined. At our lowest depth, I craned my neck and looked back to the surface - surreal yet very beautiful. 

The instructor checked my tank levels a couple of times, and indicated the second time that we should slowly start ascending, using the last bit of air to go back to shore just under the surface. On shore we chatted, and he told me people normally go to about 9 meters below, and their air lasts about 20 minutes because of nerves; I'd gone down 17 meters for 42 minutes; sorry to boast but I was pretty pleased with that! I loved the experience, and very much hope to have the opportunity to go again sometime. 

Video of the dive - click to watch

That evening back at Mohammed's we were chatting away when he had a phone call from a friend. 'Do you fancy going to an engagement party?'. Not every day you get such an opportunity, so why not. It was at a local function room, and it seems the way it worked was for males sit outside, and the females inside. Sat on the pavement, I met three Scandinavian couples who also happened to be there by sheer chance through friends of friends, so had a good to them for a while. The father of the engaged couple then came around and gave us all a piece of cake and a can of fizz, which was kind considering we were essentially gate crashing. We weren't there all that long but it was good to see anyway. I also learnt afterwards from Mohammed, that in Jordan it's common for parents to repeatedly set up dates for their children, until they find a suitable partner and also once you get engaged you sign a contract, but should one of you decide to break it off the male has to pay a settlement, like during a divorce.

I was supposed to leave on the Thursday, but had too much to sort out and was feeling stressed - finding a tour for later that day, finding a flight for next week, sorting out some more Couchsurfing and help exchange placements, and getting up to date with photos and the blog. I shouldn't be getting stressed, it seems ridiculous given my circumstance, but things don't happen by themselves. I'm not afraid to say I made a phone call back to base at that point, to get some perspective on things - traveling on your own isn't always plain sailing, and you sometimes don't see things in proportion. It helped, and I decided to stay one more day to get things up to date.

The next morning after sorting a few more jobs, I said goodbye to Mohammed and headed off, ready for an exciting three nights of camping in the desert.

Cheeeeeese

En route to diving

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