CARP FISHING - FREE SPIRIT BIG CARP CHALLENGE DVD FULL
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Saturday, April 20, 2013
Fly Fishing at Bukit Cherakah, Shah Alam, Selangor
Fly Fishing at Bukit Cherakah, Shah Alam, Selangor
Friday, April 19, 2013
Playing tourist around Maumere
There's a deadline for us to get to Maumere and submit our passports to Immigration for a visa extension, so while we could happily linger at Pulau Hoga it's time to head south. It's a bumpy ride for a couple of days. I'm just a little grumpy because it makes life a little more challenging. I want Hyo's visit to be perfect! It's ironic because she's very zen about it all, nostalgic for cruising and actually really enjoying the rolly ride we have down to Flores island.
In Maumere, we struggle to find a good anchorage (NW winds this time of year make most of the bay exposed) but settle in with a stern hook near the village of Geliting. It probably would have been more comfortable in the islands to the north side of the bay, but we need easy access to town for visits to Immigration. It is never easy and takes multiple trips. Our first extension, in Ambon, took 3 visits to their office (4 if you count being sent away to make photocopies of key passport pages, then coming back again). This turns out to have been efficient compared to the experience in Maumere, where it eventually took 5 days and 4 (5) visits to have the visas completed.
With days to wait, we indulge in a little touristing. There is a spectacular natural wonder here, just a few hours drive from Maumere: the Kelimutu. Three calderas, high up a domant volcano, are each a vibrant- and different- color. Not only that, but the crater lake colors change on a regular basis, based on the composition of minerals inside.
We've now begun to overlap with territory I backpacked through more than twenty years ago. A lot has changed, including the color of the lakes! During our visit, they were black, green, and a gray/blue. I remember a red lake, and a bright blue one, from 1991. Even Google Earth shows yet another band of color:
It was the non-lake views that most captured Niall. He actually got a little teary, looking out at a landscape that reminded him of the Pacific northwest. Pine trees lined the altitude slopes, and misty fingers of clouds worked their way up between them. Fuzz your eyes a little, and it does feel a little like a Olympic range view.
It's the terraced rice paddies we see on the way back down that really take me back. We haven't seen these yet, although Indonesia is a massive producer (and exporter) of rice. I spent time as an undergrad researching rice agriculture in Indonesia, so now it's my turn to get a little teary at these beautiful and familiar landscape views.
On the road back to Maumere, we pass by a village that is still based on very traditional construction and practices. This 'adat' community has, as most of Flores, embraced Christianity. What makes them different is that the animist beliefs of their traditional culture have been incorporated into their current belief system. It's not uncommon for blends like this to occur; what's unusual is to see the traditional values taking such a prominent role relative to the "modern" religion.
Unfortunately, there's a lot we don't understand. My Indonesian is pretty good- I wouldn't say fluent, but totally conversational- but it's not good enough to understand the rapid-fire (and sotto voce) explanations given by one of the young men in the village. There's a lot of vocabulary I'm just not familiar with. But we can see the elements that make up their ceremonies, their sacred objects and sacred places. Even with a partial understanding, it's fascinating, and something I hope we can learn about later to filter our experience more intelligently.
For now, we use the opportunity to explore, to make friends, to try to be gracious as they share their personal story.
In Maumere, we struggle to find a good anchorage (NW winds this time of year make most of the bay exposed) but settle in with a stern hook near the village of Geliting. It probably would have been more comfortable in the islands to the north side of the bay, but we need easy access to town for visits to Immigration. It is never easy and takes multiple trips. Our first extension, in Ambon, took 3 visits to their office (4 if you count being sent away to make photocopies of key passport pages, then coming back again). This turns out to have been efficient compared to the experience in Maumere, where it eventually took 5 days and 4 (5) visits to have the visas completed.
With days to wait, we indulge in a little touristing. There is a spectacular natural wonder here, just a few hours drive from Maumere: the Kelimutu. Three calderas, high up a domant volcano, are each a vibrant- and different- color. Not only that, but the crater lake colors change on a regular basis, based on the composition of minerals inside.
We've now begun to overlap with territory I backpacked through more than twenty years ago. A lot has changed, including the color of the lakes! During our visit, they were black, green, and a gray/blue. I remember a red lake, and a bright blue one, from 1991. Even Google Earth shows yet another band of color:
It was the non-lake views that most captured Niall. He actually got a little teary, looking out at a landscape that reminded him of the Pacific northwest. Pine trees lined the altitude slopes, and misty fingers of clouds worked their way up between them. Fuzz your eyes a little, and it does feel a little like a Olympic range view.
It's the terraced rice paddies we see on the way back down that really take me back. We haven't seen these yet, although Indonesia is a massive producer (and exporter) of rice. I spent time as an undergrad researching rice agriculture in Indonesia, so now it's my turn to get a little teary at these beautiful and familiar landscape views.
On the road back to Maumere, we pass by a village that is still based on very traditional construction and practices. This 'adat' community has, as most of Flores, embraced Christianity. What makes them different is that the animist beliefs of their traditional culture have been incorporated into their current belief system. It's not uncommon for blends like this to occur; what's unusual is to see the traditional values taking such a prominent role relative to the "modern" religion.
Unfortunately, there's a lot we don't understand. My Indonesian is pretty good- I wouldn't say fluent, but totally conversational- but it's not good enough to understand the rapid-fire (and sotto voce) explanations given by one of the young men in the village. There's a lot of vocabulary I'm just not familiar with. But we can see the elements that make up their ceremonies, their sacred objects and sacred places. Even with a partial understanding, it's fascinating, and something I hope we can learn about later to filter our experience more intelligently.
For now, we use the opportunity to explore, to make friends, to try to be gracious as they share their personal story.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Visiting a Bajo (Bajau) village
The first visitor to Totem in Hoga, Pondang, picked Jamie up for a spearfishing jaunt on our second morning there. Motoring his long boat to the outside of the conservation areas, they worked with fisherman netting from their small boats. Jamie came back with tales of these efficient fishermen, who it turns out belong to an ethnic group called Bajau.
Traditionally maritime nomads, the Bajau are spread across a wide area in Southeast Asia, with large numbers in Malaysian Borneo and the Philippines. Indonesia has many communities too, here called 'bajo'- or like the village we're next to, 'sama.' They have their own languages, culture, and as Jamie gets to experience firsthand- are naturals in the water, with wicked fishing expertise.
They formerly were entirly mobile, whole communities living from their boats. The moden Bajao still live on the water, but in island-like stilt villages instead of vessels. Jamie's spearfishing buddy, Pondang, lives in the Bajo village off Pulau Kaledupa, across the channel from Hoga. Built entirely over water, with about 1/2 km separating them from the island, the community is accessible only by boat.
Pondang invies us to visit his home in Sama Bahari, the bajo village across the channel. We're pleased to accept. It's just a short dinghy ride away to another world. Separated from the mainland by a good distance, this island of stilt homes has almost everything they need. A mosque. A school. Many little shops.
His wife makes us delicious cups of tea and serves cookies alongside. We sit outside and talk with him (she's a little shy, but also pulled away when his mother shows up with a dugout of fish, and crosses to another village to help prepare the catch). We make conversation and try to engage the very curious crowd that has gathered around.
Children run along narrow boardwalks over the water. These kids don't have a soccer field, but they've got the water to splash and play in- we have always liked to say we have a huge backyard, and they show what it really means.
I've grossly overpaid (it happens!) for some squid purchased from a boat that came by Totem. Pondang wants me to come to the Bajo market and pay a fair price. We like squid and they are terrifically abundant here, so, no problem getting more! The little market is on Pulau Kaledupa, across the water from the stilt village. I pay a fraction for my squid compared to the boatside seller.
Pondang drives our dinghy on the way back. I'm so grateful to him for letting us into his home and his world, and for another great memory of our time in Indonesia.
Traditionally maritime nomads, the Bajau are spread across a wide area in Southeast Asia, with large numbers in Malaysian Borneo and the Philippines. Indonesia has many communities too, here called 'bajo'- or like the village we're next to, 'sama.' They have their own languages, culture, and as Jamie gets to experience firsthand- are naturals in the water, with wicked fishing expertise.
They formerly were entirly mobile, whole communities living from their boats. The moden Bajao still live on the water, but in island-like stilt villages instead of vessels. Jamie's spearfishing buddy, Pondang, lives in the Bajo village off Pulau Kaledupa, across the channel from Hoga. Built entirely over water, with about 1/2 km separating them from the island, the community is accessible only by boat.
Pondang invies us to visit his home in Sama Bahari, the bajo village across the channel. We're pleased to accept. It's just a short dinghy ride away to another world. Separated from the mainland by a good distance, this island of stilt homes has almost everything they need. A mosque. A school. Many little shops.
His wife makes us delicious cups of tea and serves cookies alongside. We sit outside and talk with him (she's a little shy, but also pulled away when his mother shows up with a dugout of fish, and crosses to another village to help prepare the catch). We make conversation and try to engage the very curious crowd that has gathered around.
Children run along narrow boardwalks over the water. These kids don't have a soccer field, but they've got the water to splash and play in- we have always liked to say we have a huge backyard, and they show what it really means.
I've grossly overpaid (it happens!) for some squid purchased from a boat that came by Totem. Pondang wants me to come to the Bajo market and pay a fair price. We like squid and they are terrifically abundant here, so, no problem getting more! The little market is on Pulau Kaledupa, across the water from the stilt village. I pay a fraction for my squid compared to the boatside seller.
Pondang drives our dinghy on the way back. I'm so grateful to him for letting us into his home and his world, and for another great memory of our time in Indonesia.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Wakatobi: beautiful water, troubled water
We've been hearing for a while about the impressive underwater life in the Wakatobi region (cruiser types, this is probably spelled Wakatohi on your charts, a strange error since it's the acronym built from the first two letters of the names of the four islands that make up the group). It seems to be talked about in nearly the same tone as Raja Ampat. It's promising.
We anchor on the south side of Hoga island, a speck off Pulau Kaledupa. We'd heard there were moorings here and are keen to use them if possible so we can lower the possibility of damaging the reef below. Our first few passes on the buoys suggest they are completely inadequate- more like small vessel tie-ups for dive sites, which is exactly what they prove to be.
It's the "off" season, so once again we are the only cruising boat in the area. It's a beautiful big anchorage area, however, and easy to see how the fleet of rally boats will fit here in August. Hyo and I swim to the reef, eager to get our heads underwater and begin communing with the fish. It's pretty, but we have poor vis- probably mostly because it's late in the day. Mostly, what disappoints us is the trash. For the duration of our swim, there is at least one piece of garbage always in sight, and a constant flow of plastic bags and foil packaging pushes past us in the water.
Totem is visited by a few local boats. One of the first to stop by is helmed by Pondang. He is helpful and interesting to talk to, and we learn a lot; Jamie makes plans to go spearfishing with him in the morning. Pondang's brother is a dive master on Hoga, so we also arrange to go dive, and get closer to the beautiful reef we've been hearing about.
Hyo gifts us with the dive, and it is out of this world. Niall is able to come with us- the girls still need more experience and confidence in the water. But it is an amazing thing, to be able to experience this incredible world underwater as a family.
The reef really is stunning, although I still give the "wow" award to Raja Ampat. There is a stunning variety of life, from the half-dozen species of nudibranch to the lobsters hiding in crevices, the waving gorgonian fans, the turtle that stops by to visit, more varieties of anenomes- and anenomefish- than I've seen in such a short span, and of course the schools of fish (a large group of barracuda are resident near the channel marker). Breathtaking!
It's hard not to let all the garbage in the water get in the way of really enjoying it as much as we could. Each piece adds to the sad commentary, an in-your-face smack of how the world's oceans are being trashed. There's more on the beach, of the same plastic bottle and bag variety we see everywhere in Indonesia. Truly, everywhere. This is a country with mass access to cheap consumer plastic goods, no functional systsem for managing garbage, and a culture that things it's perfectly fine to toss your empty water bottle into the drink. Depressing. The amount of change needed is massive.
Cruisers have raved about how Wakatobi is a place of hope in Indonesia where there was a functional, active system for waste management. Gondang, the dive master, tells me that during the tourist season, resorts on the island hire people to keep it picked up and pristine. It's not the high season, so all the trash that is chucked on the ground stays. The pretty beaches they saw during the high season were just a temporary whitewash that covers up the real problem, the systemic problem underneath.
It's still spectacular, and still among one of the more beautiful underwater realms we've visited.
We anchor on the south side of Hoga island, a speck off Pulau Kaledupa. We'd heard there were moorings here and are keen to use them if possible so we can lower the possibility of damaging the reef below. Our first few passes on the buoys suggest they are completely inadequate- more like small vessel tie-ups for dive sites, which is exactly what they prove to be.
It's the "off" season, so once again we are the only cruising boat in the area. It's a beautiful big anchorage area, however, and easy to see how the fleet of rally boats will fit here in August. Hyo and I swim to the reef, eager to get our heads underwater and begin communing with the fish. It's pretty, but we have poor vis- probably mostly because it's late in the day. Mostly, what disappoints us is the trash. For the duration of our swim, there is at least one piece of garbage always in sight, and a constant flow of plastic bags and foil packaging pushes past us in the water.
Totem is visited by a few local boats. One of the first to stop by is helmed by Pondang. He is helpful and interesting to talk to, and we learn a lot; Jamie makes plans to go spearfishing with him in the morning. Pondang's brother is a dive master on Hoga, so we also arrange to go dive, and get closer to the beautiful reef we've been hearing about.
Hyo gifts us with the dive, and it is out of this world. Niall is able to come with us- the girls still need more experience and confidence in the water. But it is an amazing thing, to be able to experience this incredible world underwater as a family.
The reef really is stunning, although I still give the "wow" award to Raja Ampat. There is a stunning variety of life, from the half-dozen species of nudibranch to the lobsters hiding in crevices, the waving gorgonian fans, the turtle that stops by to visit, more varieties of anenomes- and anenomefish- than I've seen in such a short span, and of course the schools of fish (a large group of barracuda are resident near the channel marker). Breathtaking!
It's hard not to let all the garbage in the water get in the way of really enjoying it as much as we could. Each piece adds to the sad commentary, an in-your-face smack of how the world's oceans are being trashed. There's more on the beach, of the same plastic bottle and bag variety we see everywhere in Indonesia. Truly, everywhere. This is a country with mass access to cheap consumer plastic goods, no functional systsem for managing garbage, and a culture that things it's perfectly fine to toss your empty water bottle into the drink. Depressing. The amount of change needed is massive.
Cruisers have raved about how Wakatobi is a place of hope in Indonesia where there was a functional, active system for waste management. Gondang, the dive master, tells me that during the tourist season, resorts on the island hire people to keep it picked up and pristine. It's not the high season, so all the trash that is chucked on the ground stays. The pretty beaches they saw during the high season were just a temporary whitewash that covers up the real problem, the systemic problem underneath.
It's still spectacular, and still among one of the more beautiful underwater realms we've visited.
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