Sept 27, 2005 - Maumere (Sea World), Flores Island
by George Backhus

Setting sail early the next morning, we arrived near the town of Maumere on the Island of Flores by midday. We anchored just off the beach by a small dive resort called Sea World.

We had read that Maumere was the largest city on Flores Island, so hopped a bemo into town. We wanted to check the place out a bit, and see if we could score a few provisions and maybe even find an Internet cafe. Arriving to the center of Maumere, we were completely underwhelmed. A large rain squall earlier that day had washed most of the gutter trash into the streets, so the place wasn't looking too flash. The "central park" was surrounded with barbed wire, with a small herd of goats were grazing inside. We weren't quite sure if the fence was meant to keep the goats in or the people out.

We did find a tidy little Chinese grocery store that had some nice American apples and pears and a few other goodies, but otherwise found Maumere to be only just slightly more appealing than a visit to a Tijuana barrio. On the way back to the boat, the bemo we boarded waited nearly a half hour to fill up with passengers before it made its way out of town. Those who joined us for the ride were mostly young men smoking cigarettes. Between the loud music and smoke, the trip was almost unbearable, and we wished we had walked. For the pleasure of a long wait and an uncomfortable ride, the conductor tried to rip us off for three times the price of the exact same ride in the other direction. Fortunately for him and us, I don't know any swear words in Bahasa Indonesia.

Back on board Moonshadow, we washed off the grime and smoke from our Maumere misadventure, and then headed back ashore to the resort for sundowners and dinner. The staff of Sea World were most gracious, the facilities excellent, the grounds lovely, and we enjoyed drinks and a delicious buffet dinner for two for about US$14.

	Moonshadow passing volcanoes on the north side of Kawula Island (right after Alor).

At 0630 the following morning we were in a minivan we had hired for the day, on our way to the legendary Kelimutu volcano. For three hours we wound through rainforests, rice paddies, small villages, coconut and banana plantations and steep mountain terrain on a one-and-a-half lane road, heading down island to the volcano.

Driving on Indonesian roads requires tremendous skill, intense concentration, rock-steady nerves, split-second reactions, and a certification of insanity. From a westerner's point of view, the roads here make absolutely no sense. Drivers follow way too close, drive in the wrong lane, pass when they shouldn't, speed frivolously, honk their horns incessantly and stop and park in the middle of the road whenever they feel like it. We came upon a broken-down truck blocking one lane of the road, with the driver happily asleep on the ground under the front bumper. Because cars are so expensive, most people drive small motorcycles. It's not uncommon to see two, three or even a family of four on a single Honda 100cc motorcycle. Few have rear-view mirrors. The Indonesians' driving style would make Evil Kneivel nervous. Some motorcycles have so many boxes and bags attached to their sides that they take up a full traffic lane. The only driving rule seems to be that there are no rules and "might is right," so if you are in a car, truck or bemo, you can pretty much ignore the motorcycles.

If the chaos of vehicular traffic wasn't enough, the pedestrian habits thoroughly baffled us. People seem to prefer walking on the roadway to any footpaths alongside. If they want to stop and sit for a rest, they generally prefer to sit on the hot pavement, not in the cool grass or perhaps a log off the side of the road. The farmers love the heat of the roadway and use it freely to process their harvest. On numerous occasions, we saw an entire lane blocked off for at least a hundred meters, using coconut husks as pylons, where copra (coconut), rice or other unidentifiable crops were being dried on those ubiquitous blue tarps. The largest vehicle would assert right of way through the blocked section and the smaller vehicles would just have to keep clear.

On the foot of Kelimutu, we came upon a rice farming village. This area was absolutely stunning, just as depicted on those beautiful Asian paintings, with acres upon acres of small terraced rice paddies, clinging to the mountain's contour lines. They were flooded with water through an intricate system of viaducts and pipes leading from a mountain stream. All the "soil engineering" appeared to have been painstakingly done by hand. In this instance, the Indonesians have raised agriculture to an art form.

Merima checking out the colored lakes at the summit of Kelimutu Volcano.

After three hours of what seemed like the scenic version of "Mr. Toad's Wild Ride," we arrived miraculously unscathed at Kelimutu National Park. Now we've all seen lots of volcanoes, but a ten minute walk from the car park along a path to the top of the cone revealed why this volcano is totally unique. Kelimutu has three steep walled cones at its lofty summit, each containing a different colored lake. The first cone we came upon resembled a huge cup of rich hot chocolate, complete with white frothy patches. Walking a bit further, a second cone came into view with a lake the color and opacity of the mineral turquoise. Reaching the top, we could see all three lakes, the third one having water that was the color of rich black coffee. The colors of the lakes apparently change over time, as well as with the seasons of the year, but nobody has fully explained the phenomenon. The locals believe that the souls of the dead go to rest in the lakes. The young people's souls go to the warmth of the turquoise lake, the elder's to the cool of the brown lake and the souls of thieves and murderers to the black lake. We found it to be a uniquely beautiful sight, and well worth the long drive.

That night we enjoyed another meal at Sea World, this time at a table set up for twenty cruisers on the beach. Again the food was excellent, and along with some great conversation, we enjoyed listening to unique traditional Flores Island music, played by a local band at a refreshingly pleasant "unplugged" level.

Riung, Flores

Sailing two full days to the west along the north coast of Flores Island, we came to the small fishing village of Riung. Riung is nestled in a large bay at the foot of a river, and is protected from the seas by a myriad of reefs and beautiful small islands with white-sand beaches. Part of the village extends out over the sea, so the homes are constructed on poles to either side of the main road, which is elevated just above the high tide level.

We found the anchorage in Riung to be excellent, and more importantly, the people were most welcoming and friendly. They even constructed a "princess dock" so that the yachties could land their dinghies, tie up, and walk ashore, avoiding muddy beach landings.

While Riung didn't offer much in the way of shopping or provisioning, we did find some beautiful fruits at the open market, and enjoyed a few nice meals ashore. In particular, we liked a restaurant that was known as "the Pastor's Place," which was in a small hotel that looked more like a seminary, situated in the middle of town. "The Pastor" was an elderly Polish gentleman who has lived in Riung for 40 years. He puts on an excellent meal in a large room in the hotel that looks more like an austere church's chapel, and it was evident that he believes cleanliness is next to godliness. Dinner for two with a couple of cool Bintangs was $US 10. A clean, comfortable, basic room with a western style bathroom is available for about $US 7 a night.

We also enjoyed good snorkeling on the edges of the reefs, as well as some walks through the village. Most notable about the primitive looking stilt homes over the water were the electrical meter boxes by the front door and the huge satellite dishes outside. You just can't fight progress.

Labuan Bajo, Flores Island

After a few enjoyable and relaxing days in Riung, we set sail to the west end of Flores Island to the large port town of Labuan Bajo. We arrived on the 17th of August, which is Indonesian Independence Day. The town was abuzz with ceremonies and parades, so we just quietly made our way through the crowds to the shops and market area of town. While we did find quite a nice assortment of fresh fruits and veggies in the market, and a few goodies in the shops, it is still a bit unnerving to be competing for the goods with numerous large rats and cockroaches. After our shopping expedition, we enjoyed an excellent lunch at very nice little backpacker's resort situated on a hill overlooking the crowded harbor. There's nothing quite like relaxing over a meal and a cool Bintang, at a table in a lovely garden of bright bougainvillea flowers, with a view of your boat in the harbor. After lunch we returned to Moonshadow and had a leisurely downwind sail to the island of Rinca, which is part of the Komodo National Park.

Crocodile Bay, Rinca Island

Crocodile Bay is a deep, narrow estuary with a cozy anchorage at its end. With the hook down, we caught up with our friends on Calypso, Explorer and Mar Bella, who were also anchored there. Crocodile Bay may be a bit of a misnomer, as no dangerous sub-marine animals were present. On the other hand, before we could even get our anchor set, we were accosted by two small fishing boats full of young Indonesians trying to sell us pearls and wood carvings of Komodo Dragons. Without invitation they were alongside, tied to our cleats, attempting to get on board. I immediately repelled them, pointing out that an old tire is not a suitable fender and that it was very impolite to invade one's home in this manner. Loudly and openly displaying my displeasure, I think they realized that due to their overaggressive behavior, we weren't going to buy anything from them, and quietly they went off to bother someone else.

We were ashore at 0630 the next morning where we met a guide to take us on a 5-kilometer bush walk in the park. We were greeted at the dock by a Komodo dragon, which is a ginormous (3-meter, 100-kilogram) monitor lizard. While this guy looked pretty relaxed and docile, we were told that a Komodo dragon can swallow an entire goat in one gulp.

At the park station we spied a few more dragons before we headed off into the bush. We were warned to peek into the toilet before we went inside, as the day before, a dragon had wandered into the men's and hung out for about an hour. One poor soul, who had to drain his lizard, walked in and had a heck of a fright when he discovered the toilet was already occupied by a much larger lizard.

During our three-hour walk we saw a few more dragons, which appeared to be more healthy and active than the ones hanging around the park station. We also spotted a number of small monkeys and a couple of large, wild water buffalo, sporting a massive spread of horns.

After our tour, we set sail northwest to a large anchorage on the north side of Komodo Island. From there, our flotilla of four sailed the next day to nearby Banta Island, where we enjoyed a couple of days of excellent diving.