Napoleon
The motorized outrigger canoe drops anchor, and Nadya and I dive over the side with our snorkels.
"Sampai jumpa lagi," shouts helmsman Erick Farwas, the Papuan hosting us on Pulau Wundi, one of 36 islands in the Padaido atoll 500 kilometres west of Jayapura. Catch you later.
The current carries us along the reef and into the company of a thousand fish: yellow and black Moorish Idols, rainbow Parrotfish nipping at spiky coral fans, Surgeon and Unicorn fish nudging along in shoals, Clown fish gawping at us from forests of sea anemones, a two-metre black-tip reef shark patrolling the depths. From time to time, we dive and search the folds of brain coral for the speckled head of a Moray eel or poke our noses under a ledge for zebra-striped lobsters waving their antennae. I wonder what the fish make of us. Blundering, finless aberrations hardly to be taken seriously? A school of barracuda cruises by unperturbed.
In the Raja Ampat archipelago, West Papua's prime dive spot last month, we had no need of a boat.
"Ini bagus!" exclaimed Bapak Baus, the Papuan fisherman we met on the jetty near the stilt hut we were renting on Pulau Mansuar. No need to pay $45 to $55 for a dive with air tank from a fancy boat. Just jump off the jetty! "Jam tujuh pagi terbaik." Seven o'clock in the morning is best. "Banyak ikan!" Tons of fish. "Bisa melihat Napoleon." You can see Napoleon.
So, at first light, we did just that. Map pufferfish, trevally, Maze rabbitfish, Oriental sweetlips. And, yes, Humphead wrasse or Napoleon fish: plump and green, with buggy eyes and bulging foreheads, like they just got whacked with a baseball bat. This was my first immersion in tropical seas since 1997 when Nadya and I swam with sharks in West Malaysia. I'd forgotten how illuminated this world could be and brilliantly coloured, how seething with life yet utterly silent.
We drift along the wall, and hours pass. When Erick scoops us out of the water, I have a headache. I shouldn't have had that haircut yesterday. I touch my scalp. Burnt. A toll, perhaps, for today's visual extravaganza.
"Coral seems in good shape," I remark.
"Seventy percent intact," Erick replies proudly. "Fishermen from Manado did dynamite fishing in past, but now not. We still have trouble with plastic bag. People, they throw bag from PELNI ship into sea." He is referring to the big liners that cart passengers and merchandise around Indonesia.
I had noticed more litter around Raja Ampat, which is a protected area (it contains 1,459 species of fish and 550 kinds of hard coral). Visitors must contribute 1,000,000 rupiah ($100) towards conservation, which helps pay for clean-up. Nevertheless, it must be tough to keep pace. As in Canada, all stores here churn out plastic bags, and kiosks everywhere sell bottled water as the tap water is unsafe to drink. Napoleon must share his home with Aqua water bottles, Oreo biscuit wrappers, and gutted tubes of Pepsodent.
Tony
"Sampai jumpa lagi," shouts helmsman Erick Farwas, the Papuan hosting us on Pulau Wundi, one of 36 islands in the Padaido atoll 500 kilometres west of Jayapura. Catch you later.
The current carries us along the reef and into the company of a thousand fish: yellow and black Moorish Idols, rainbow Parrotfish nipping at spiky coral fans, Surgeon and Unicorn fish nudging along in shoals, Clown fish gawping at us from forests of sea anemones, a two-metre black-tip reef shark patrolling the depths. From time to time, we dive and search the folds of brain coral for the speckled head of a Moray eel or poke our noses under a ledge for zebra-striped lobsters waving their antennae. I wonder what the fish make of us. Blundering, finless aberrations hardly to be taken seriously? A school of barracuda cruises by unperturbed.
In the Raja Ampat archipelago, West Papua's prime dive spot last month, we had no need of a boat.
"Ini bagus!" exclaimed Bapak Baus, the Papuan fisherman we met on the jetty near the stilt hut we were renting on Pulau Mansuar. No need to pay $45 to $55 for a dive with air tank from a fancy boat. Just jump off the jetty! "Jam tujuh pagi terbaik." Seven o'clock in the morning is best. "Banyak ikan!" Tons of fish. "Bisa melihat Napoleon." You can see Napoleon.
So, at first light, we did just that. Map pufferfish, trevally, Maze rabbitfish, Oriental sweetlips. And, yes, Humphead wrasse or Napoleon fish: plump and green, with buggy eyes and bulging foreheads, like they just got whacked with a baseball bat. This was my first immersion in tropical seas since 1997 when Nadya and I swam with sharks in West Malaysia. I'd forgotten how illuminated this world could be and brilliantly coloured, how seething with life yet utterly silent.
We drift along the wall, and hours pass. When Erick scoops us out of the water, I have a headache. I shouldn't have had that haircut yesterday. I touch my scalp. Burnt. A toll, perhaps, for today's visual extravaganza.
"Coral seems in good shape," I remark.
"Seventy percent intact," Erick replies proudly. "Fishermen from Manado did dynamite fishing in past, but now not. We still have trouble with plastic bag. People, they throw bag from PELNI ship into sea." He is referring to the big liners that cart passengers and merchandise around Indonesia.
I had noticed more litter around Raja Ampat, which is a protected area (it contains 1,459 species of fish and 550 kinds of hard coral). Visitors must contribute 1,000,000 rupiah ($100) towards conservation, which helps pay for clean-up. Nevertheless, it must be tough to keep pace. As in Canada, all stores here churn out plastic bags, and kiosks everywhere sell bottled water as the tap water is unsafe to drink. Napoleon must share his home with Aqua water bottles, Oreo biscuit wrappers, and gutted tubes of Pepsodent.
Tony
Comments
Post a Comment