Birthday Cake
The Komodo National Park.
It’s a group of islands off the coast of Flores with flora and fauna of World scientific interest. Very few of the islands are inhabited by humans but there are a few small fishing villages including one on Komodo Island itself. Here the mainly Muslim population live a peaceful existence for most of the day. They are a devout bunch, having built three mosques in the village. And so it was at the end of the day we found ourselves moored up on our boat 100 metres off shore, admiring the sunset, recounting the experiences of the day, dragons and turtles mainly, and looking forward to food and drink.
Elena’s birthday. Two years ago we were in Hanoi and picked our choice of restaurant very badly. I had vowed to do better this time around. Certainly the scenery had been better. Pointy, rugged hills and islands, white sandy beaches and turquoise water. Under the water when we made a few stops we were seeing coral and fish of many different colours and a grazing turtle munching on the coral and viewing the bunch of excited snorkelers following him.
Rinca Island actually has more Komodo Dragons than Komodo Island. Around the ranger station we spotted our first one, a bit of a baby, hardly 2 metres long. The bigger ones were hiding under the huts and lying on the paths further along the trail. It’s the dry season at present. Several females were guarding nests where their eggs were laid. The females will guard the nest until the young hatch, at which point the mother will eat any youngsters not quick enough to escape. I wonder if we should start employing similar tactics at home to persuade the offspring to take up more physical activities instead of X-Boxes.
Anyway, food arrived. The beer fridge was being fully employed. Smart clothing was the general order of the night. We even managed to work out the dubious wiring on the Indonesian music system. A sickly, sticky birthday cake emerged and much of it was consumed with bags of snacks, prawns, noodles and more beer. Arak and coke then arrived before people, including Jo and Lucas drifted off to find their beds. When I say beds, most had bedrooms. Some had deck space with mattresses and blankets.
I was one of the last standing. It wasn’t spectacularly late I’ll admit. A full day of sightseeing and snorkelling had done us all in. I found the mattress I was’sharing’ with Jo and Lucas. Jo was using half of it, Lucas another quarter. I rummaged through the bag for something to use as a pillow. I later discovered that I had chosen a damp bikini to rest my head on. I viewed the blanket that Jo was using but she must have sensed me eyeing it up so she kicked me in the head. Lucas also sensed in his sleep that I must have aggravated his mother somehow, so he also kicked me in the head. I woke a few hours later and decided that sleeping in shirt and bow tie wasn’t the most comfortable option. I added the bow tie to my pillow and drifted off again.
At 4.20am we were questioning the captains choice of mooring location. In the whole of the Komodo National Park, why oh why had he chosen to park his boat within a few hundred metres of the only 3 mosques within 500 square miles ? The first call to prayer was being howled from a minaret nearby. I caught another 2 minute nap before the next one started up and another 30 seconds between second and third. The fishermen around here are poor. They can only afford single cylinder engines and no silencers in their boat engines. The put-put-put of fishermen off to work filled the air.
And so it was, at 5am I was up watching the sunrise, with breakfast of birthday cake, chilli peanuts and mild concussion, looking forward to another day of wildlife viewing and snorkeling.
Manta Point was certainly an amazing experience for all. I was able to chase an excited 10 year old as he spotted Mantas and tried to keep up with them. Ok, I did see a few myself. Beautiful, graceful creatures who were moving effortlessly through the crystal clear water literally feet in front of us. One of the many highlights of the trip.
We were back at the resort before we knew it. Tired and in need of showers and lusting after air conditioning and somewhere away from a mosque to sleep.
Elena’s birthday. Two years ago we were in Hanoi and picked our choice of restaurant very badly. I had vowed to do better this time around. Certainly the scenery had been better. Pointy, rugged hills and islands, white sandy beaches and turquoise water. Under the water when we made a few stops we were seeing coral and fish of many different colours and a grazing turtle munching on the coral and viewing the bunch of excited snorkelers following him.
Rinca Island actually has more Komodo Dragons than Komodo Island. Around the ranger station we spotted our first one, a bit of a baby, hardly 2 metres long. The bigger ones were hiding under the huts and lying on the paths further along the trail. It’s the dry season at present. Several females were guarding nests where their eggs were laid. The females will guard the nest until the young hatch, at which point the mother will eat any youngsters not quick enough to escape. I wonder if we should start employing similar tactics at home to persuade the offspring to take up more physical activities instead of X-Boxes.
Anyway, food arrived. The beer fridge was being fully employed. Smart clothing was the general order of the night. We even managed to work out the dubious wiring on the Indonesian music system. A sickly, sticky birthday cake emerged and much of it was consumed with bags of snacks, prawns, noodles and more beer. Arak and coke then arrived before people, including Jo and Lucas drifted off to find their beds. When I say beds, most had bedrooms. Some had deck space with mattresses and blankets.
I was one of the last standing. It wasn’t spectacularly late I’ll admit. A full day of sightseeing and snorkelling had done us all in. I found the mattress I was’sharing’ with Jo and Lucas. Jo was using half of it, Lucas another quarter. I rummaged through the bag for something to use as a pillow. I later discovered that I had chosen a damp bikini to rest my head on. I viewed the blanket that Jo was using but she must have sensed me eyeing it up so she kicked me in the head. Lucas also sensed in his sleep that I must have aggravated his mother somehow, so he also kicked me in the head. I woke a few hours later and decided that sleeping in shirt and bow tie wasn’t the most comfortable option. I added the bow tie to my pillow and drifted off again.
At 4.20am we were questioning the captains choice of mooring location. In the whole of the Komodo National Park, why oh why had he chosen to park his boat within a few hundred metres of the only 3 mosques within 500 square miles ? The first call to prayer was being howled from a minaret nearby. I caught another 2 minute nap before the next one started up and another 30 seconds between second and third. The fishermen around here are poor. They can only afford single cylinder engines and no silencers in their boat engines. The put-put-put of fishermen off to work filled the air.
And so it was, at 5am I was up watching the sunrise, with breakfast of birthday cake, chilli peanuts and mild concussion, looking forward to another day of wildlife viewing and snorkeling.
Manta Point was certainly an amazing experience for all. I was able to chase an excited 10 year old as he spotted Mantas and tried to keep up with them. Ok, I did see a few myself. Beautiful, graceful creatures who were moving effortlessly through the crystal clear water literally feet in front of us. One of the many highlights of the trip.
We were back at the resort before we knew it. Tired and in need of showers and lusting after air conditioning and somewhere away from a mosque to sleep.
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