Enter The Dragon

Paddling Sumbawa was a challenge. Wide, exhausting crossings in strong wind and very deep water with surging swell was more than a little nerve racking. Our total lack of privacy was tiring as our every move was scrutinised by an army of observers. The lack of respect for the environment was hard to take, especially in our last campsite on the island, a beautiful, secluded, white sandy beach surrounded by coral. We had only arrived ten minutes earlier when a massive bomb blast at the far end of our beach sent a huge column of water 20m into the air. We had heard distant dynamite blasts in the water but to see the scale of the impact, and for the reward of a few undersized fish, it was heartbreaking.

Our paddles through the Komodo region have been quite the opposite. While we have not been able to escape the wide crossings the challenges here are spectacular, just like the scenery. Currents surge through these rugged islands with a force that causes much bigger boats with powerful diesel motors to cower in the bays waiting for the tide to turn. Water rushing around a point can cause huge standing waves to rise from nowhere and can be almost impossible to paddle against (although we keep sneaking through). Vast whirlpools like those described in children's books cartwheel through the channels, pulling our boats around like driftwood. It is all very exciting paddling, but we are developing steel nerves as we go.

Imagine the Whitsunday Islands, on steroids, and there you have the Komodo region. Numerous rugged, dry islands, many of them huge and with high ridged spines, are separated by clear, cool water that literally teems with life. Great schools of fish leap as one to avoid some unseen predator. Turtles bob their heads and tear away terrified through the aquamarine depths as we approach. Eagles and kites soar from the cliff tops, and occasionally scoop low to collect a fish from the surface. Kingfishers flash brilliant blue wings during the day while flying foxes flap and chatter in the evening.

The snorkelling is all that one could ever hope for. We practiced our freediving skills off a deep ledge in water the clarity of glass, and in the space of just a few minutes saw sharks, turtles, a million fish (give or take one or two) and a manta ray. We have had several of these giant rays fly effortlessly through the water just under our kayaks creating a sensation only matched by paddling with the giant humpbacks that I so love to play with back at home.

Speaking of giants though, there is not a predator on the planet that could stir the emotions like the hulking, fearsome Komodo Dragon. We stopped for a bite to eat and a restock of supplies today on Komodo Island and were fortunate enough to witness a fully grown dragon, lazily deciding which of the camera-snapping tourists it would most like to eat first. Images shot through my head of the speed with which an Australian goanna can explode with hungry, teeth-gnashing force, and I cautiously kept my distance behind a wall of much smaller tourists.

Perhaps even better than the wildlife, the scenery and the incredible paddling in this region is the fact that we are on our own. The islands are deserted, the beaches free from the constant staring audience. This is more like paddling in north QLD than the overcrowded islands of Indonesia and we are relishing the refreshing break. Few people mean few villages, so our supplies need to last. We will scrape on through with rice and noodles for another five or six days though, for the once in a lifetime chance to explore such an incredible wilderness.