Mutiny on the Santosa!

Watcha Landlubbers!

So, the day had arrived for our trip to Komodo. I was “Up and at ‘Em!”, as Emma likes to say. Makes a change for this old punk, but a treat was in store, and make no mistake. Pieces of Eight and all that…

We were picked up from Hotel Eden, sorry, Elen, and taken up to Perama’s office. From there we hopped on a coach, which would take us across the island of Lombok, to Keyangan, where the cruise would commence.

Sights across Lombok!

On route, we were fed some fruit and suspicious looking rice sweets parcels, but I gave them a miss. I did indulge in the local pineapples though. First stop was all filler and no killer – a pottery where locals demonstrated how to construct pots and such like. Admittedly the woman who worked her magic was skilled at what she did, but we were then all hoarded into a shop, where staff were optimistic we might make a purchase.

I hate being put in situations like that, as I have no room in my rucksack for excess baggage, weight wise, never mind fragile goods wise, but you end up feeling guilty for not buying anything. Besides, most of the ethnic tat for sale here I could purchase at Zen on Digbeth High Street, if I really wanted it. No Sir, if it ain’t South East Asian Punk related, I’m not really interested.

Fortunately, we were then taken to Kayangan Harbour, to a boatyard, where things really started getting interesting. Our tour group was twenty or so strong, and we were shown around a Perama boat which was out of the water, and being reconditioned. Apparently the process would take about a year, and the fact that the underside of the vessel was essentially a glorified catamaran, rather intrigued me.

Moreover, the wooden boats are sealed with the age old tried and tested glue and sawdust mix, prior to their rudders finally being added, when the boat is finally placed in the water. To do otherwise is apparently considered to be bad luck by mariners here.

I was reminded of narrowboats in the UK, as it is viewed as unlucky to rename them when they’re in the water, or at very least, bad luck not to rename them when they’re being launched out of a lock – the less affluent boaters equivalent…

But speaking of bad luck, it is at this point that I should perhaps flag up some concerns that we had about Perama, Emma having undertaken some research on the internet. Apparently, several years ago, one of their boats encountered a storm, and was shipwrecked off of Komodo Island. It was a PR disaster for Perama as a Tour Operator, as one of the passengers happened to have landed a free trip, having revealed to them that she was constructing a blog, and would faithfully record her experiences.

Unfortunately, her blog ultimately contained details of their being shipwrecked, baggage lost to beachcombers, her baby saved from the waves but for the grace of God, and an uncomfortable night on the shore, fearing for their lives at the mercy of the Komodo Dragons, which inhabit the island. Since that time, said blogger has dedicated her life to denouncing Perama, and warning people not to go with them.

Well, I thought it all sounded pretty exciting, me being me, and I also thought that if Perama could recover from such a total PR disaster, and still be in business, they’d probably be worth a tug.

None the less, as I stood in their boatyard, the thought did occur to me that the boat we were looking at might very well have been the shipwreck in question! I whispered this suggestion to Emma, who silenced me – we had no idea if any of our future passengers had taken the time to do their homework on the company (!!!)

Then we were back on the coach, and taken to Perama Docking, where we first laid our eyes on our vessel – the KLM Santosa. Top speed 11 knots, number of passengers 40 (including those sleeping above deck). Perhaps unsurprisingly, this old pair of mariners had rejected a cabin, to sleep closer to the waves.

My view was that I wanted to be as close to the sea and stars as possible – never mind the fact that if we were shipwrecked we would have first go on the life rafts! In this day and age it can be a case of ‘women and children last’ in those situations. Shucks, even Captains flee their boats these days. What has the world come to Eh?

Once aboard, we were introduced to the Captain and his crew. Mostly strapping young lads, who were to do the donkey work of lifting anchor and such like, but the engineer was an older Muslim guy, and the Captain himself was a decade or so older than me. I was instantly jealous of his boat. I later confided in him I lived on a boat, but when I replied to his question that its berth was four people, I noticed he stifled a smirk!!

Captain Trent on board!

Our principal contact whilst aboard was a guy named Rooney. For obvious reasons we immediately nicknamed him Wayne. He was a really nice guy who spoke excellent English, but added the tagline “Or something like that” at the end of every sentence he said. We warmed to him immediately. As for the other passengers, an elderly Dutch couple had hired a cabin, and at least confirmed to us that for a change, we would not be the eldest on board.

‘Wayne’ what a fantastic and enthusiastic guide!

But it fast became apparent that we were the only Brits aboard, and nobody else seemed very forthcoming. I figured a few beers might loosen their tongues later. There was a slight delay, and then unexpectedly a late arrival hopped aboard who had not been on our coach earlier in the day. I warmed to this guy straight away, as once aboard, his first question to the crew was “Where can I smoke?” With that, we disembarked.

First stop was weighing anchor near an island named Gili Kondo, where we disembarked on a smaller boat, so as to access this picturesque island. Frankly I was in my element at this point in time – I chilled on the beach, drank a few beers, and read the newspaper on our I-Pad whilst staring out to sea, and the adjacent Mount Rinjani.

Our boat and home for the next couple of days!

Mount Rinjani

Meanwhile, Emma had elected to do a touch of snorkelling, and then to do her bit for Mother Earth, by repairing the local coral reef. That said, whilst I was idly smoking a cigarette, Emma discovered that the cost of conservation can be high – upon her return she advised me “That nearly killed me!” Apparently the swim down to replenish the coral was pretty deep!

We tied freshly harvested coral to the posts…

This is my piece, which I then had to swim out with and dive 5m down to place!! It works though, the new Coral beds and fish were truly amazing!!

This is my piece, which I then had to swim out with and dive 5m down to put in place!! It works though, the new Coral beds and fish were truly amazing!!

The pair of us then took a stroll around the idyllic island, prior to catching up with the main group for a beer, a meal and a communal fire, over which Wayne gave an overview of the boats course, and our activities over the next few days.

Upon arrival at the fire, Emma asked me where I wanted to sit? I spotted a black cat, so suggested we sit next to him. The cat promptly fled, but the guy who joined the boat at the last minute sat adjacent, and was a friendly bloke. It emerged he was named Sebastian, was from Poland, and had been undertaking some voluntary overseas work.

A few beers later and we were back on the Santosa. To Emma, Sebastian, and my concerns, it almost immediately became apparent that passengers were heading to bed. It was only Ten PM!! Moreover, once above deck at the stern, people were in silence, and in the dark. Seeing as we had no intention of going to bed at such a ridiculously early time, especially with the high seas rolling by and the boat gently rocking in the sea, we ordered more beer, and surveyed the situation.

A group of three French guys had taken up residence on the front deck under the stars, leaving us with the mid deck. To the surprise of the crew in charge of the beers, we announced we would be taking up residence there, and so we did. It emerged Sebastian was based in London, but was currently travelling himself, and had been somewhat of a grunge music fan in his youth.

Me and Sebastian

It was the early hours before the three of us bedded down for the night. I secretly fantasised about mutiny, and becoming a pirate, as I dozed off to sleep.