Lombok in the back yard.

In a steamy jungle somewhere a jaguar's coat of dappled spots renders it invisible to its prey, the clumsy rotund capybara strutting back from the edge of a waterhole is oblivious of the cunning hunter. Wrinkled into a submerged cave a wobbegong shark's gelatinous whiskers and carpet-like skin allow it to ambush fish without detection. On a black sandy beach in the sweaty heat of dry season at dusk, the midge is the undisputed ruler, camouflaged perfectly against the sticky black sand grains, this parasitic hunter feasts gluttonously upon its ignorant prey, the puffy white flesh of two exhausted sea kayakers.

Despite the occasional midge attack Lombok's northern shore has proven to be every bit as exotic and beautiful as we had imagined paddling in Indonesia would be. Crystal clear water , a deep dark aqua that cannot be printed on paper, nor captured in stained glass shimmers in the bright sunlight while allowing a glimpse of the coral gardens below. Fish leap from the water teasing the hungry fishermen in their spidery boats, impossibly narrow hulls held upright with thin bamboo outriggers resembling bugs on the surface of a pond. Small children nimbly monkey up the towering coconut palms, collecting a cool snack for themselves and their miniature mates. Quaint villages nestle into the farmland, mosques blare out the call to prayer, and everyone waves and yells greetings as we slowly paddle by.

The weather has been kind. Apart from a headwind that forced an early departure from our paddling plans yesterday we have been blessed today with what has felt like a distant memory - a tail wind. With our sails billowing, the one square metre of plastic and nylon arched across the bow of our boats takes the pressure away from every stroke. We scream ahead, maybe picking up to 4 knots or even 5 in the occasional gust. These might not be speeds worth reporting to Guiness but for us the change of pace has been literally a breath of fresh air.

Thoughts of home are never far from our minds. The bark of a dog makes us long for our puppies, the mention of a juicy steak in one of the books we are devouring teases us into memories of oversized feasts, and almost anything sends us into reminiscent spins about family and friends. Today however, Australia came to us!

On the horizon behind us we could just make out the tall mast and white hull of a yacht that seemed to be heading our way. LIke stealthy pirates we hugged the shoreline timing our attack perfectly. As the catamaran approached we excitedly chatted about the possibility of who was on board, where they were going and whether they might wish to trade places. Corky II's 45 foot hull ground to a halt as the skipper cut the motor and drifted towards us. One brief greeting cemented the fact that we were chatting with Australians, "G'day!". Before we could respond a hand reached out bearing two green cans, condensation rapidly forming on the icy cold receptacles. "You want a beer?" Pangs of Aussie pride flooded through our veins as we cracked open our chilled beers and guzzled them down.

Brian and Cordelia, retirees from Sydney were as amazed to see us as we were them, and we laughed as we briefly swapped stories of our adventures. "Most of our mates were moving closer to the hospital so we went to Thailand, bought this boat and started to sail home. That was three years ago!" There is definitely a breed of Australians who share an adventurous spirit and, from kayak to catamaran, we all saw the sparkle in each other's eyes. As the cat cruised away Lain and I munched on the packet of salty, crinkle-sut potato chips and finished the beer we had been generously provided, feeling like we were at a mate's BBQ, in some suburban Aussie back yard.

Photo: Giving a mate a cold beer on a hot day - the Aussie spirit is strong in the waters north of Lombok.