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Ikat Paradise- Wild Adventure! Sumba- Flores- Alor

08 Feb 2010 (36 days ago)

Sumba- Flores- Alor - 2 families
Ikat Paradise-Wild Adventure!
September 19 - 26th 2009
Diary entries and notes. Rebecca Wilkinson

19th September- This trip started out with an adrenaline rush- and so setting the tone for the whole trip……Spent the night in Bali and an earthquake struck Bali just as we got up. The hotel shook, the pool splashed and we ran downstairs and out of the building. At 11 we left for the airport for our flight to Waingapu on Sumba. It was a steep bank towards the runway and speedy descent. Air thermals pushed as around a little bit but a short landing and we were happy to be out of the plane.

Wouter met us and we went off in 2 vans followed by a posse of souvenir sellers. They were right at the doors when we stopped to photostat passports and when we reached the harbor to embark Tiger Blue. All of us were tempted by the beautiful ikats they pulled out- stunning! And I very mightily avoided the urge to hand over all my money even before we began the trip!

Tiger Blue welcomed us with fresh limes, smoked salmon and rainbow runner sashimi. We sailed East, 11 miles to Walakiri and and anchored alongside a reef and long white beach with trees and coconut palms. The landscape is made up of khaki greens, ochers and terracottas-just like in the ikats we saw at the harbour. There is a backdrop of long flat topped hills, set in layers along the horizon. It looks Mediterranean with a bit of the Yorkshire Dales thrown into it.

We took a troll with a couple of beers and a stunning sunset to keep us happy. All around us waves of little fish shot up through the water. We hoped for bigger fish. The girls went off on the little tender to bottom fish with lines over the reef…..but no luck tonight!

GIn and tonics on top deck as the dark came upon us and the fabulous stars came out. There was a bit of a roll so no good for Matthew's telescope. Dinner was pumpkin soup, chicken cordon bleu and dessert.

20th September- I woke at 4.30. I can't resist early mornings on Tiger Blue. The light before sunrise is always totally mesmerizing. Green tea and the sunrise landscape coming into view. The colours all strengthened, the layers blurred, brighten and then come into focus. Warm yellow, orange, ochre- the colours of the ikats.

Dolphins silently arched their fins along the edge of the reef. Just a glimpse of them and the glint of light on their fins as the sun came up. Its a delight just to know they are there.

Tessa and Pippa slept on deck and they look gorgeous sprawled on the deck bed cuddled up in the sleeping bags and blankets, their faces all radiant in the morning light.

Bacon sandwiches were my choice for breakfast, more green tea followed by coffee. Showered and packed ready for exploration and ikat hunting on Sumba. We had a full day on land.

The tide was very low and we had to negotiate the reef rather gingerly. It took an age but we eventually landed on the lovely long white beach and were promptly told by a gnarled fisherman and his sons that the road was 5 kms away! We reboorded the tender but then spotted our guide- Fidal- waving frantically at us. Back to the beach and as we walked up to our waiting vans we were again mesmerized by the most beautiful ikats being unfolded off the backs of motorbikes.

It was bumpy and dusty, dusty all the way out to the main road. Dry, worn out looking land. Big pandanus trees growing in clumps, little patchy cute pigs, loads of puppies everywhere, gnarled leathery looking fishermen, a subsistent existence, no comfort. Bamboo hunts with a platform, grass roofs, flat on top, pitched sides, animals housed below, people above. Palm leaf walled latrines, fences made of 'toddy' palm fronds. The people here use everything that is around them.

The palm provides so much-walls, fencing, drink and sugar and simple woven baskets. These are totally beautiful in their simplicity. Practical and made for everyday use it is these natural baskets that really stand out for me. They use them for everything. Rectangular ones with a flap are stuffed with shredded banana stem and put on the ground for the pigs to feed from. Leaves are folded and formed into buckets to collect the palm sap for sugar, they are shredded and formed to use as a mould for the molten sugar to harden into. Ikats are folded and stored in them, as are fish. They are folded into fans and the most delightfully woven ones are very small and woven intricately to form a special container for the welcoming betelnut and condiments. The palm leaf provides all the utensils needed here for the very poor people who live off the land.

There is rubble everywhere- like an abandoned worksite- but natural. Limestone,caste landscape, like the English moors. A great geography lesson showing caste landscape, the effects of erosion and the forces of nature. Forest, a very dark deep opaque green in the valleys and around the rivers, but very quickly beyond, the rest is windblown, bent and desiccated looking. Where branches have been stuck in the ground as basic fencing, they sprout and so you see the fields and paddocks demarcated by straggly sticks with a few leaves sprouting from them.

We stopped at a palm sugar operation on the side of the road.This is a very basic process resulting in the nutty flavored brown sugar slices that we ate as it. Like crumbly homemade fudge.

The stove was in the ground and the sugar sap boiled to evaporate the water. We saw here all the various baskets for the different processes made by the sugar maker.

We drove on to Rende, the Royal town of Nobles. It specialises in intricate ikats It feels immediately lost and dying-empty like a ghost town. There was sudden flurry of activity as we arrived and women sat into their backstrap looms and started working. Again, ikats were unfolded in front of us and very very hige prices sought for the ikats. There was a heavy, bleak atmosphere- very lovely ikats spread on the floor, all too expensive- USD800, 1000, even higher starting prices. It was very hot, dry and not a happy place!

The architecture was impressive- huge sweeping roofs all facing out onto the tombs with carved megaliths. The old ones were lovely and the animals and spirits- called by the collective term"merapu"- depicted were stunning. The new ones were of cement and really did not convey any sense of spirit. It was sad to see how the skill had become so lost with the use of cement.

We walked around the place and behind the large houses were smaller houses of individual ikat makers who appeared on their balconies as they heard us coming by. Here the ikats were truly gorgeous but the prices were way out of our price range. We had to be content to take pictures. We saw vats of dye and a woman weaving on a lovely backstrap loom, the wood worn shiny and smooth from use.

Tessa and Pippa found a hoard of very cute puppies and played with them as the local kids watched in fascination. The pups were crawling with fleas but it didn't put the girls off! It was slightly weird here in Rende- the people came out when we were around but when they saw us walk on they immediatey went back into their houses and out the way. It was really about working the tourist and one really was left to feel that if you didn't have the dosh to buy overpriced ikats than it really wasn't worth the effort. On our part you wanted to give the business but we were all taken by surprise by the prices they started at. We all felt disappointed by Rende- we were led to believe it was a thriving authentic village where ikat weaving was part of their everyday life. It lacked proper soul.

From Rende we went onto Pau which specialised in "hingi" or blanket ( the West calls them by the general term "ikats") made using a combination of ikat dye and embroidery. "Ikat" means "tie" and so the term "tie-dye". The warp threads, and in the double ikats, the weft threads are tied up and then died in different combinations to create the pattern which is only revealed when the cloth is fully woven. (We didn't see any double ikats the whole trip.)

Here in Pau, there were more people and the main buildings were within an area with large trees and palms. Megaliths were also present to the side of the central common area. There is a forested backdrop to this village making it gentler on the eye. It was pretty. The people were very animated but again, it was all about trying to sell the ikats. They happily displayed all their clothes, kids, men, women and although Pau didn't have the same 'bored' atmosphere of Rende, as visitors we were just 'tourists' and fair game. We all felt the authenticity of the place had been compromised but we did realise that the tourist market was important here in a very obviously impoverished place. I thought it very wise that each place had decided to specialise in different methods of ikat, so there was no direct competition. The difficult thing for us, as visitors was trying to figure out when was the best time to make the purchase. Some of the best ikats- and cheapest opening prices- were in fact at the harbour when we first arrived. We all wanted to buy, but at what point of the trip?

We boarded our vans again- a couple of purchases made here in Pau- and decided to lunch on the beach. The girls swam in the clear sea and we watched as 2 dug outs were pushed off the sand and then put out nets just off the reef in front of us. It didn't look as if they caught anything. 5 minutes later the first returned to the beach and as a large group of men hauled the dugout up the beach we went to look. The dugout was full of silver fish! It was fascinating looking at the men pulling the fish off the nets. They were a colourful bunch, all looked so mixed up- some had very tightly curled hair and looked more like the people of Papua, while others looked like the Malay people. They were all used to hard work and we bought a good bundle of fish for supper from them.

The dugout was gorgeous and I would have loved to have bought the paddles! The wood was made precious by everyday use in the sea. Though I love ikats and the whole idea of being here, this fishing scene was the highlight of the day for me. Local people doing normal things- far more interesting than the ikat -for- tourists village.

We headed back to Tiger Blue and everyone all cooled off with a session on the knee boards. Fidal organised an evening performance of traditional dancing for us and I have to say, I was a little sceptical, assuming that this would be very 'touristy'.

Once on the beach we discovered our afternoon van well stuck in the sand and whizzing his wheels in ever deeper. A gang of people had come to push it out. As we made our way past it we saw that the lorry that had been called in to tow the van out was also stuck! To us it was funny but to all the guys doing the pushing it was no fun at all.

We set off in the vans and drove for quite a way onto a track where we offloaded into some bush. As we walked up through this we were greeted by kerosene torch lights and suddenly a whole troupe of ikat clad people within a lovely coconut grove. A lot of locals had come to watch the performance and the ikat sellers had come to display all their works. It was spectacular! Fidal explained the etiquette. The locals sang out the question asking us the reason for our appearance and a nominated local for us, replied in song that we had come in peace. There was a great air of excitement and anticipation. It was all very South Seas, friendly, colourful and jolly. Of course it was all put on for us but the local people and the little vendors that had come to sell food and drinks to the locals made it all very relaxed.

Our little group were led through a "corridor" of lady dancers in their ikats to a row of white plastic chairs- the seats of honour. Fidal explained the meaning behind each dance and we were entertained to 5 dances and great music.

The dancing started with a traditional band of men on drums and other instruments, singing, and the dancers, a mixture of adults and young children. They were brilliant and in the night with the torches, their costumes, the sound, the smell of the sea, the local people, the atmosphere was superb and it this was definitely for me, a highlight of the trip. Fidal had organised all this very well.

Afterwards looking around at the ikats, again it was sensory overload. It was hard to compute the designs in my head and they were all gorgeous. To decide was so difficult. Again the colours here- the fantastic reds, saffrons and oranges were stunning and I was really fascinated to see here how the individual makers had started to input their own designs for the ikats. A Christian maker had made images of angels and Jesus Christ, of crosses and foliage, while others had used the traditional designs but with rather more flourish. The ikats were no longer about traditional spiritual use or wearing, they are being made to hang on walls to be just decorative items that no longer have a spiritual meaning. They are being adapted for the tourist trade of course but the majority of these makers are hugely talented and take great pride in their work. Their designs are superb. I really enjoyed this evening.

We were taken back and dropped off a way from the beach- they didn't want to get stuck again! Fidal would meet us in the morning. Then we were left in total darkness, just the sound of the waves to guide us. We didn't think of torches when we left Tiger Blue that evening before sunset. Thank goodness Wouter, Beryl and Matthew had their Blackberries! We, quite hilariously, but safely reached the beach by the light of these little Blackberries and signaled to Tiger Blue with the flash from my camera. The tender took a time to come in through the shallow reef in the dark. We all boarded and then whizzed back through to black night, a white wake behind us and fish absolutely leaping everywhere! This was really exciting in the dark and the girls shrieked a lot of the way!

We had all enjoyed this evening. Dinner was ready- we were all starving! Minestrone soup, delicious prawns, our fish, and chocolate brownie sponge cake with ice cream. We devoured this and all disappeared below deck to bed.

21 September
I woke after sunrise and had a leisurely breakfast-eggs and bacon, fruit and green tea. We were all ready on shore at 9am……but no Fidal and no Bimos(the local open minivans) to meet us. We walked off the sand and onto firm ground where we loitered on big dead branches and inspected a huge pandanus grove. It was very quiet, the landscape heating up already and we did feel slightly abandoned. Then in the distance a cloud of dust and the sound of a thumping base! Fidal had arrived with the Bimos! Like rescue vans appearing in the desert. There was BIg Boss with the rock music and Freedom with the lighter pop. We took Freedom. On the 45 minute ride to Fidal's house we asked him to turn off the music and we had bored of his funky sounding horn. Our necks were also creeked as the low roof in the Bimo forced us to lounge in the seats. It was all fun though!

Fidal's house was neat and clean and very suburban looking. We were welcomed into his living room and sat on a large vinyl sofa set. his wedding photo was displayed proudly on one wall and on the other a tiled image of the last supper set into the wall.

He had a large stack of ikats on the floor which he and an assistant began to open up for us. We asked to see the process first and do the buying after. This was great, We were taken out the back of his house where the dye material was being processed. The red dye from the Mengkudu tree(morinda citrifolia rubiacea family) is pounded out of its roots after being mixed with water and squeezed. This process is repeated 4 times. A giant hog lounged in a muddy shallow pit behind the dye extractors and the girls found a stack of puppies.

Ikats in different stages were all about us to see- the tying process, how the design is marked out and a lovely rasta hair type bundles was brought out for us to see. The tying is done with stripped pandanus leaf as it does not absorb the dye and blocks it from the threads. All of this was far more than we had seen anywhere else.

The ikats he produces- and he is like the majority of producers- are not one of a kind. Fidal's designs are based on old museum ikats which he puts together and he keeps a 'stencil' so that the design can be reproduced with pen on to the stretched warp threads. These bundles are then dyed and re-stretched onto frames and these are sent out to the lady weavers you see working beside or under their homes along the road side. They are paid per piece. It is essentially a production line and this is where to me, although the ikats are indeed beautiful, the prices are unjustified. When you see several of the same design and colour it takes the romance and wonder away. They are no longer individual pieces and it is no longer possible to buy original vintage ikats. Most of these pieces have ended up in individual collections or museums a long time ago.

Still, Fidal had lovely ikats and he is such a great guy! He explained some of the motifs and the meanings behind them, the story they tell. It was also interesting how he explained that the natural dyes dried in different tones depending on dry or rainy season. Fixing of the dyes was done in the sea- salt water- after the weaving was complete.

I ended up with a beautiful smaller ikat to use as a shawl with cockerel and geometric motifs. I was very happy with it and the colours were what would remind me of Sumba. I paid IRP1 million and Fidal gave me a horn hair comb to go with it. Beryl bought a rather more large and dramatic piece of wonderful sea creatures, a basket and a comb for IRP2 million and 100rups. We left Fidal very satisfied with our ikats and very happy that we had supported him. He is giving work to many people and keeping ikats alive. He also has a standard of quality and that is seen in the work he has produced. He is also passionate about his home.

While we learnt about the ikat process and bargained down our ikats Tessa and Pippa set about washing all the puppies and de-ticking them completely- including in their eyes! They did a very impressive job and left behind some far happier puppies.

We headed straight for the beach where we lazed for the rest of the afternoon. Triple decker sandwiches and cold beer was sent to us on the tender and we walked and swam to our hearts content. We all caught the sun. Tessa and Pippa dug a hole to China. The beach here is stunning, wide and long with white fine sand. It was scattered with wonderful driftwood, some huge pieces, shells, flotsam and jetsam. The sky was so clear and everything looked liked it had been given a polish-no pollution anywhere!

At 4 we boarded Tiger Blue and got underway to Pulau Ende. Gin and tonics on top deck sailing East, the sunset behind us. A very calm sea. Dinner was fabulous- Gado-gado(a very Indonesian salad with a peanut spicy dressing), stirfied beef with rice ending with the lovely sweet and sticky Kuih Ambon- a traditional steamed cake. One of my favourites it was totally delicious!

We all disappeared to our cabins at 7.45! Asleep by 8.30. Wonderful!

22nd September- I got up a couple of times to look at the lights on Flores as we sailed past. We were ahead of schedule and had to slow down so that we could negotiate Ende harbour in the light. Coming into Pulau Ende harbour was like being put into one of those old water colours of a faraway place. A beautiful bay with a dramatic outward view to the steep ridges and wiggly mountain horizon of Flores. The settlement in the bay itself, however, was not 'pretty' as such but had charm from the distance. Tin houses, roofs, shacks and metal domed mosques. The sand was black which gave it look murky. Lots of kids playing with balls on the beach, cockerels crowing all over, lots of little dugouts with men line fishing quietly.

We went ashore to find the fort and the local people were welcoming and allowed us to wash our feet at the side of the mosque before we put our sneakers back on again. We were accompanied by a gang of teenage boys who giggled a lot. We passed by a few men squatting around some very dark bloody meat- it was dolphin meat for sale, the racks of ribs being cut up.

The boys told us the fort was a kilometre away but in fact it was just a short walk and clamber up a slope along the edge of a tapioca patch. It wasn't really a fort that we found. More, a few fused bricks entangled amongst a big banyan tree. Each position of the fort towers was now marked by a large ficus tree- the towers now smothered by roots and crushed.

We had a good view of the bay and we walked back to the shore. There was not a lot to hold us there. A few of the older ladies wore very beautiful dark small patterned ikat sarongs which were pulled over their heads to shade off the sun. The teenage boys were all in tight jeans while the rest of the adults, other kids worn a mix of sarongs, pants, Tshirts. There were lots of mosques in a very small area and all about, scratching around, the most gorgeous looking chickens and chicks, all speckled and plump with fluffy rump feathers. We noticed that all the dolphin meat had sold out.

On the black beach waiting for the tender to pick us up a few kids looked on at us and said 'Hello' and really we were left totally to our own devices and the locals lost interest very quickly with us! From the beach the view was stunning. The boats moored in the very still bay with the backdrop of hills was out of a movie set.

We boarded Tiger Blue and set sail round Pulau Ende to have a look. With the fishing lines out on the way David and Sam caught 2 huge wahu. Fantastic sashumi! The island was very rocky with steep dark cilffs and green tops to the hills. You could see where terraces of cultivation were being scratched into the landscape. It was difficult terrain and it would have taken so much hard work to do any cultivation at all. The sea was blue, big and the waves crashed white against the rocks. All the way round the island little one man dug outs floated like corks, bobbing along the waves with lines out. All very Captain Cook and adventurous!

We went straight into Ende itself. Again a wonderful backdrop of hills green hills, mosques. Rain clouds added to the drama. A busy harbour. We anchored and packed for our overnight stay in Moni to go up to Kelimutu and the volcanic lakes. It was difficult for us to land and we had to make do with an incomplete giant pier with no steps to get up. The waves were too big and strong for us to land on the beach safely and Matthew's telescope was too precious to lose, apart from anything else. We had no choice but to climb onto a big boat and then walk a wobbly plank onto the pier. It was hairy but we all did it very calmly despite being a bit scared! Everything about this trip so far was dramatic! It was very hot and dusty and we were glad to get into the air conditioned vans. We had a 2.5 hour journey by road.

The drive was stunning. We went up and up into mountains, the road giving us wonderful views of green ravines and bouldered strong rivers below. It felt very ancient, prehistoric even, green extremely fertile, lots of water and you felt the earth was still being manipulated by water and the elements. Everywhere were well tended vegetable gardens and women wearing their dark indigo and terracotta ikats. The designs were small repeats and the sarongs were sewn into a large tube which is often worn just hitched onto one shoulder with either a tshirt, or nothing inside. It drapes like a toga and these women we glimpsed as we whizzed by, carried tools, baskets of vegetables, sticks and looked so elegant.

There were also padi fields- a gorgeous idyllic sight, very peaceful and romantic looking. The green tone of padi fields is perfect on the eye. I wanted to buy a whole van load of vegetables!

The Flores Sare Hotel was dismal. It was abandoned whilst being built and then left unfinished ….but apparently was the best hotel there. It would have been better to take sleeping bags and sleep in the open- the air cool and fresh. Anyway we survived this-spoilt as we are!- and we were here to climb the volcano and see the lakes. We took an evening walk through the little rural town. People were out tending their vegetable gardens and there were totally cute baby, and adult, water buffaloes tied up in these paddocks. All the ladies wore ikats and everyone greeted us with "Sore!"(pronounced "Soray" meaning "Afternoon!"). Then we bedded down ready for our early wake up call.

23rd September- Woke at 3.30am and got ready. We took the vans 12kms and then a 25 minute hike up steps through forest. It was an easy climb. We had expected much harder without a proper set trail. We reached the top and the view over the lakes as the sun rose was magical! It was blustery and nippy at the top. A couple of enterprising locals whipped out thermos's of hot water and made tea or coffee to order, smokey from water boiled over a wood fire. It was good! Another man pulled open a bundle of ikats and draped them over our shoulders to use as blankets- great marketing! We enjoyed the views of the lakes which changed colour as the light rose from behind the mountains. The Kelimutu Lakes are well worth the visit and I would visit again. 3 lakes, all slightly different colours. They do need to be seen at sunrise when the light works magic on the colours- turquoise to deep green and blue to a dark khaki colour. We all enjoyed our walk down through the forest full of birds and we noticed here that the birds gathered in a phenomenon known as a 'birdwave'- where birds of different species move through the trees feeding together as a group. I believe the theory is that the wider their range the more insects are disturbed- they work as a team. Fraser's Hill , a hill station in Malaysia s well known with birdwatchers who visit to see 'Birdwaves' in action.

Back down at the carpark, with the morning ladies selling ikats, potmee, coffe, tea and biscuits had opened. It was a swaying wall of ikats hung from bamboo poles and it looked beautiful None of us could resist. A lot of these ikats had been used and they were of the kind you saw everyone wearing here in this area of Flores. There were strips that had been cut from larger peices and these had been used as headbands and waist ties. I bought 2 great tube sarongs, IDR250,000 each and a bunch of cut belts and headnabds form IDR25,000 to 30,000. The ladies told me they were using the money for their children's school fees. The kids were all hungry and had pot mee's.

On the back down the mountain we stopped off to visit the hot springs. We walked down the bank to the village and then down a steep little slope to the spring. a lady was doing her laundry. There were 2 pools, the upper pool for the men and the lower pool for the women. The women got the run-off from the men's pool! All of us took off our shoes and soaked our feet for a while. It was blissful and hot! Very relaxing and calming.

Next stop was a waterfall which was pretty and breakfast at the Bamboo cafe where the cook walked out to the tomotoe vine and picked fresh red tomatoes for Wouter's tomato and cheese sandwich. We then grabbed our stuff from the hotel and made the drive down to Pago where we would be met by Tiger Blue, off a beach. 1.5 hour drive. Cloves and cocoa pods were drying on the side of the road all the way. Lots and lots of candlenut trees- very attractive trees, their leaves a different colour underneath so you could see them clearly as their foiliage had a whitish, powdery look to it. Candle nut-the fruit- is used for oil and used in local cooking as a thickener in gravies and curries.

We got to Pago beach- a beautiful white surfed beach, low reef, ble blue water, hopped easily onto the tender and back for sushi lunch. By then we were desperate for a swim and took the tender but because the swell and break of the waves was right on the beach, we had to jump off and swim in. We were all dumped onto the beach by the waves. tessa and Pippa took the boogie outs but the waves were breaking too forcefully into the sand. Pippa took a big tumble and was winded and so boogie boards were put away. We then had to content ourselves with relaxing on the beach.

It was all about timing getting back to the tender as we now had to swim back to it in deeper water. We had to watch the waves and then at the right moment lunge into the high swell and then swim like mad to the tender. It was a bit like Fear Factor! the kids and us girls had Wouter, David and Matthew 'escorting' through the tricky bits and we all managed. Then back on board, refreshed with Septi's cold towels we set off-90 miles to Lamalera.

24th September- It was a rolly night so woke early to watch the sunrise. There were little villages on sides of cliffs or tucked right on the shore. Unforgiving coast, steep rocky 'beaches', boats under 'atap' huts. Huge churches! Cultivation on steep slopes, cleared by fire and underplanted. The villages look as if they had been set up by missionaries-picture perfect low homes with falt going into pitched roofs. The churches were totally out of place. White, too big and overwhelming.

Lamalera- the village of the whale hunters- was obvious. Boats in thatched huts lined the whole beach. A massive white church overlooked the whole place. A big swell rocked us constantly and waves rocked right into the shore. As we maneuvered making a decision about how to land, we could see the villagers rolling a large whaling boat over poles from it 'garage. we could see the boat whizzing down the slope of the beach. A few tall european men on the beach in pink shirts were visible and at the water's edge 2 large manta rays were being butchered.

On Tiger Blue we were given no peace and the swell kept us rolling uncomfortably and we went along to try to find a quieter corner or bay where we could float out of the swell. It was impossible to anchor because of the sheer depth, even so close to shore. The land here just dived deep at the waters edge.

We managed breakfast around a point where it was just slightly less rolly and then Wouter and David surveyed the beach to see if we could land. No! Instead they hired a whaling boat and 5 tough whale hunters to come out in their solid wooden boat to take us ashore.

Because the swell was so big we had to climb over the railing of Tiger Blue, put our feet into the porthole and then with right timing step into out tender as it came up on the swell. Our adrenaline got going again!. Once loaded we heaved along the top of the swell and then transferred into the whaling boat which pulled alongside us.

The whalers guided their boat expertly around the rocks they knew so well and landed us on the sand right next to the sad remains of the manta rays head and eyes. Couldn't help but think "Poor thing!"

Immediately ashore ladies came down to under the boat huts and laid out their goods on mats and sarongs, the bows of the boats above their heads. They all expected us to buy immediately. Hand spun ikats- indigo and rusts, lovely colours mixed with newly printed sarongs, roughly carved whale bone, boar tusks, whale teeth and veterbrae, shells and necklaces for sale.

A visitors book was plonked in front of us and Wouter had to pay IDR200,000 'registration fee'. We then walked up the stairs in the direction of the large church we saw from the sea. We started up the steep road. Neat houses, whale bones everywhere and hanging and drying bits of all sorts of sea creatures-dolphins, rays, whales, turtles- desiccating in the wind. They looked like nasty offerings left to Kali or some other demon god. Very gory looking but in effect- sea creature bilitung.

The place was quiet, the people not outwardly friendly but when approached they did smile and chat. we went looking for bottles of water and found a sundry shop that sold Aqua. The girls bought watermelon chewing gum and I bought a woven plastic basket, we continued to the church- a very easy walk. A very wonderful tree- leguminous- but no seeds- was in full blossom and it provided a beautiful soft beauty next to this very daunting, austere and locked up church. It was ridiculously huge. And it should have been open we all thought- a church surely should be open? It really seemed an overbuilt proclamation of religion. It was heavy, oppressive and loomed over the whole place.

A large neat house was nearby. Lots of very nice potted plants. I skipped it to go to the tree and ignored the call from the lady that emerged from it. Some of the others went to see her and were immediately shown ikats. She told them about the Dutch pastor but he died in 1992! A man then came out and ordered them to sit on the floor and when Beryl asked if they could look at the church, he asked 'Why?' and told them there were regulations to follow. a proclamation for money first! he was aggressive and so our group left, happy to leave him to his own form of Christian behaviour. In the meantime, the lady had disappeared, maybe dreaming of the poor Dutch pastor…..

We started walking around and back and heard music and at the office of the Dusun head- on the signboard- a dance practice was going on. a couple of lads were outside and we asked if we could take a look. they invited us in. a troupe of girls were inside with little baskets in their hands practicing a dance routine. A man approached me and I said our 'hellos' to him and the ladies. he then told us that if we wanted to take pictures we had to give IDR20,000 each. He was aggressive and unpleasant actually and I reached into my bag but then thought, I really didn't want pictures of this. Again. the women in the room shrank and were blank faced and very very quiet. I sensed they were pretty scared of this guy. he got more and more aggressive and so I said thank you and we were going. We left with him starting to shout at us. Wouter tried to ask him what the problem was but he was just unpleasant and so we called Wouter away. The lads who so smiling welcomed us in were also shouting at us when as we walked down the hill.

Lamalera, we were deducing, was not an open and very friendly place! Strange when Christianity is supposed to open, friendly to all. These men here had a bit of power and it was obvious to every one of us that they were abusive. The women looked scared and blank. There is a population of just 1,800- like a large school with abusive headmasters and a big church that the students can't get into. There was not a lot to do in a place like this. It would have been much more productive to have turned that church into a badminton hall or a sports centre. We all thought of Pitcairne Island and the scandal of the men there. It was easy to imagine the same here.

Quite frankly we were happy to leave. On our arrival, the romance of this place, the colourful boats under palm leaves, the story of it being the last village of whale hunters and ikat makers, the idea of these women on the shore spinning thread and dying with ikat and natural dyes had me thinking that I'd like to spend 6 months here to see how it all worked! Walking away from that man I wished all the people well and the idea was tossed out of my head. Not interested! The poeple- the general public we met as we walked- were friendly enough but not open. Everywhere there were signs saying 'No photos'. And there was an arrogance to the people selling things. An example of how tourism-the last whaling village in Indonesia- had gone awry and it had twisted the people. It was no longer tradition or everyday necessity to make ikat or wear it, it was done for the tourist. It was no longer a necessity to hunt for whales. The whalers as we chatted to them, told us the village had caught 3 whales in 2008 and none so far in 2009. It was obvious in the village they killed anything they could catch. The fact that they now have motor engines on the backs of their whale boats, gives them speed and makes it easy to chase anything.

Back on the beach I spent my money at the display belonging to the lady who said the least. She was not pushy, she didn't harass me to buy. She quietly asked her price and I gave it to her. David bought a hand spun ikat scarf, I bought whale vertebrae spindles with naturally dyed hand spun thread, and a small simple ikat. Then we left, our slightly dangerous looking whalers delivering us back to Tiger Blue, smiling at their payment.

We also found out that the guys in the pink shirts were from the BBC and they were filming 'The Last Whale Hunters in Indonesia'. The girls practicing their dance were getting ready to dance for the camera, the whale hunters were pushing out the boats for the camera and no doubt, it will all look friendly, romantic and wonderful. Its all for show and this sort of publicity perpetuates this behaviour where it becomes good enough just to be "The Last Whale Hunting Village in Indonesia'. It gets the tourists wanting to come to visit but it also creates wrong expectations. We, the tourists pitch up expecting to see the real whale hunters going out to hunt in order to feed their families, and the local people expect tourists to pay just to be there no matter how arrogant the behaviour. The romance of it all is shattered on both sides. Its all a bit of a lie despite the huge monumental church. Its sad!

Would I want to visit again? I wouldn't say 'No' but I may just stay on the beach where the whale boats pulled up under the palm roofs is an idyllic sight, where you can negotiate with the women sellers and totally avoid contact with the men. Would I recommend people to visit? Of course! The whole place is exciting and slightly dangerous- and the ikats are interesting- Lamalera has it's own individual style of ikat design. The place is so remote, there are not hundreds of tourists there- we were the only ones on that day-apart from the BBC guys, who had no boat of their own visible. They also need the tourist dollar. Its a very basic, poverty stricken place and really all that money spent on the churches has done no good that I can see. This wealth could have gone into more sensible things surely?

We took off, found an anchorage of sorts- we had to keep going about as the anchor dragged- and had lunch. Good burgers! It was peaceful and quiet and we relaxed then left getting sails up. There was a stiff wind and the top sail got tangled. A big swell but we got the 2 front sails up and this stabilised the boat nicely and we had pleasant afternoon on the sea.

We went in search of a calm anchorage for the night. All of us were thrilled to reach the calm of Tanjung Pangora within Pulau Kawula. A strip of white sand beckoned in the distance and we set off in dead calm on the tender. It was further than we thought, getting choppier closer to the beach. We swam in and it was lovely. We all set about beach combing. A gorgeous evening, gin and tonics and as the sun was about to set we whizzed back to Tiger Blue, the sea calm and flat.

We got home to supper of tempura prawns on a bed of buckwheat noodles, roast chicken and potato gratin and asparagus, ending in chocolate mousse. We all ate too much. We tried to use Matthew's telescope and despite the calm sea, it wasn't calm enough! It had been too cloudy at Kelimutu to look at the stars. Matthew had brought his telescope in the hope of seeing stars like we had on Banda last year-where they were totally unbelievable.

All to bed in dead calm. We would set sail at midnight into the Sawa Sea to Alor.

25th September- It was a rolly night after we left the bay but it calmed by early mornig. Woke at sunrise- gorgeous again. Sat on top with Wouter for a while. As soon as the sun was up it was hot. It was so calm as we came into the Alor Straits but as the morning came on the rippling currents appeared. Then dolphins- hundreds of them! showing their fins. They just seemed to be idling in the calm on the line of the current.

We anchored at Alor Kechil in front of Pulau Kepa. Big breakfast again-eggs, bacon and sausages. We then went off snorkeling. A drift snorkel off Gunung Pura. It was so very pretty- purples, blues, greens, rainbow fish, starfish- gorgoeus. It was like a treadmill and it was best to have your head to the current and then keep your speed down by kicking slowly and manuevering in the opposite direction of the current. The 2 girls and I managed to slow ourselves very well and had a good look at things. Through the water you could see the current clash with another- like the oily pattern you see in boiling water forming little mini water twisters. I found this slightly freaky and felt like if I got into one I'd be whizzed off in the opposite direction. So I avoided them!

We were all so happy for this lovely snorkel- the first of the trip. It had been too wild everywhere else for us to get into water with the little ones, the beaches had too much surf to be able to swim and we had so much to see on the land.

We then got back on the tender and had a look at a couple of the beaches including right in front of Tiger Blue- Pulau Kepa. Wouter had been here 4 years ago and was horrified to see that the all ones he remembers as being really beautiful with shallow healthy reefs had been completely bombed out. We boarded Tiger Blue and relaxed as we waited for lunch. David and Wouter went off a fish and surveyed the reefs for afternoon snorkels. As they trolled around waiting for a bite a large marlin kept leaping out of the water close to the boat. It was a total tease!

Later we all went off to the island ahead of us- locally known as Ternate. Again a great snorkel for all levels a with lots to see and fabulous coral. We noticed many bamboo cages at both this site and the morning site tied to the coral bed. Inside were caught reef fish obviously for the aquarium market. We later discussed this- it was s catch 22. Many of the reefs had been bombed out completely and where we found the healthy reefs- not that many of them in the small area we explored- there were cages. If they are catching reef fish they need the reef to be healthy which may discourage bombing but if they overfish these, they will kill off the populations quite rapidly. There wasn't a huge amount of fish but the coral was really healthy. None of us agree with sea water aquariums because the number of fish sacrificed in unacceptable, and people readily replace these little clownfish once they die, with no thought to how the fish are harvested in the first place. We were not in Alor long enough to see how this business is managed.

These Pantar Straits are notorious for their currents and the clash of cold cold water from the deep with the tepid water above. There are a lot of large fish, dolphins here, all feeding. Wouter told us that when he was here last he was diving in the little Straits between Alor Kechil and Pulau Kapa and was caught in a run of thousands of tuna and dolphins. It was exciting but absolutely freezing.

As we snorkeled on the edge of Ternate we were accosted and heckled by groups of boys walking along the cliff. We all commented that they were like a mob of football hooligans.

Later we set off to Ternate where Wouter saw lovely ikats before. We came into a very pretty picture perfect low bay with a footbal field right on the water and a football match in full swing! They were football hooligans! and had been on the way to this match! It was a delightful site actually. Palm trees, lots of dugouts with outriggers anchored off the beach, a happy cheering crowd around the pitch and an obviously competitive game.

We landed and immediately there was a crowd of curious smiling kids and ladies. I turned to ask Wouter if there were any formalities and he pointed at the coconult trees and said "I think they are ready for you!" Ikats were suddenly appearing out of nowhere and were being strung up for us to view. We had to laugh because we were all pretty much 'Ikated' out. Still we all had a look and here again, the ikats were so different- each place with their own individual design. The girls bought sets of 2 ikats in very strong chemical due colours- one to wrap as a skirt and the other to wrap the chest. I bought a very lovely but simple ikat with turtle motifs in indigo and rust and was very very happy with this.

We all chatted happily with the vendors here, none of them overly assertive and happy for us to view the fabrics. They liked the banter of the bargaining and were not fussed if we chose one over the other. These were individual craftswomen here selling their own designs that they had crafted on their own. This was not a factory production line. The ikats had a simplicity that was charming here. The brightly coloured ones obviously appealed to the tourist and one of the ladies asked if we were off a cruise ship. She said that a few of them could come to the boat to sell everyone's ikats. I told her that we were all here and were happy with our purchases.

Along the way one lady was sitting weaving in her backstrap loom. The loom was tied to huge heavy rusty bits of machinery- tradtionally it would have been a pole or a tree but they had adapted here and I realised that the rusty bits of machinery about the place was not rubbish but was being reborn for a different use. I asked the lady how long it took her to finish the weaving of her piece and she replied "3 full days of my boobs bouncing up and down!" All the ladies cracked up laughing. So did I. It was a great way to describe the process of backstrap weaving. The rhythmical movement is that your boobs do bounce around as you slide the shuttle back and forth and pull down the heddle!

We walked along to the match and the side of the pitch where an elderly gentleman explained that the match was between the Christian Village around the other side of the island and their own Muslim village. he told us that even though they were different religions they were one island and it was good. This was a great finale to our trip. All the people were having a genuinely good time here. It was happy, friendly and they had a great sense of humour. After visiting the more remote villages along the way and seeing the huge overwhelming churches we were all getting disheartened and felt that the obviously overpowering work of the Dutch church( the huge churches had apparently been built by the Dutch church in the early 90's) was stifling. Here in this little island near Alor they were far more relaxed and it was a football field that brought them all happily together! Maybe the church should spend it's money on football pitches instead of massive church building thats are locked up.

Our last evening on Tiger Blue was lovely. We had a barbeque and we enteratined the whole time to small fish fry jumping out in waves around the boat. It was the light of the boat that brought them up we thought. There a constant spashing sound throughout the night. We'd never seen anything like this before. Just simply thousands of little fish. It was fun.

26th. I woke for sunrise and it was a magical view as the wood fires created a smokey layer along the shore. The colour of the sky and clouds was amazing and again, I got to see what a world with no pollution- sound and industrial- was like. You can hear motorbikes from miles away, the clanging of pots in the houses on shore. Sound travels so far. The view cleared in layers of colour and the water as flat as a mirror. A wonderful last morning.

We landed and said our good byes to all the crew and boarded our van. We were confronted with a poster of Britney Spears on the roof and we were jolted back into the reality of our time. Waiting for our flight out of Alor we noticed a few missionaries in discreet uniforms. There was a tall woman with short hair in balck smart combat pants, a small cross embroidered on the her side pocket. On the back of her polo shirt behind her neck another small embroidered cross. She had a cross on a chin around her neck and she fingered her beads in her trouser pocket. She looked pretty trendy actually and carried a smart leather bag. Apparently she was protestant. On this island there was both protestant and catholic. Where we sailed we saw just the giant catholic churches.

We flew straight onto the Bali via West Timor and then to Jakarta and home.

This trip was an adventure which tested us both physically and emotionally. It was also ikat central and a place I have wanted to visit since I was a little girl and found out about ikats. It made for great discussion especially when you travel with a group of people with varied views on religion and what it can do, where it is appropriate, especially in places which are so remote and poverty stricken. Of course we were not there for any length of time to really see how it all works but the people themselves gave us a gauge. Where they seemed most unhappy there were huge churches, where they were most welcoming and happy there was football field. Surely that tells us something. Long live football!

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