Kijana (22 page)

We had a short break while I tried to muster up some enthusiasm for the next uphill climb. The sun was now beating down and I had already drunk half my water. Once we got underway we realised this climb was even worse. At times we were on all fours, so steep was the incline.

I was getting increasingly frustrated at what was turning out to be a foolhardy attempt to find the dragons. The soles of my shoes were slippery and gave no traction on the thick layer of dry grass. I looked around to see everyone else seemingly handling the climb better then me. I started to wonder if my pack was heavier than theirs. I came to a large rock in my path. It was about a metre high and there was no practical way around it. I sort of leapt at it in an effort to clear it, pushing off the ground with all my energy only to feel my feet slip out from under me. Like a cartoon character, peddling my feet midair to find a grip, I was thrown off balance and the weight of my pack ensured my chest hit the ground with a thud.

I wanted to cry with frustration as I lay prone on the ground examining the base of the stupid boulder that was just centimetres from my face. Maybe I should've gone around the bastard. My mood was made no better by the fact that Josh had managed to get way ahead of me. He had enough energy to bound back with the camera and film my struggle.

We eventually got to a clearing and let the chickens roam nearby while we munched on some dry biscuits and cheese for lunch.

‘We're not going to see anything with the amount of noise we're making,' Josh commented.

At that point I couldn't have cared less about the dragons. I'd banged my knee several times and all I wanted to do was sit still and drink the last of my water. Maria suggested we wait there, and hopefully the dragons would smell the chickens and come to us. Everyone was happy to go along with her suggestion. I was particularly enthusiastic about it.

After we ate, we rigged up a sunshade. The afternoon wore on and the temperature continued to rise, but still there was no sign of any dragons. I stayed under the shade while Josh headed further uphill with the camera, and Beau and Maria went down to the bay for a swim.

I felt like such an idiot, making the crew walk so far carrying so much stuff. It now seemed such a totally inefficient way to find the dragons. I wondered what the others thought. For me to lead the journey, they had to believe in what I asked them to do. Follies like that wouldn't help instil much faith in their leader.

The next thing I knew Josh was waking me. I'd been asleep for a couple of hours. He'd climbed along a ridge as far as he could before it fell away at a cliff face. He'd returned to find me asleep, Beau and Maria still swimming, and the chickens missing.

It was a disaster. I'd lost the chickens, it was now late afternoon and we were out of water – so much for my expedition planning. I felt like a complete fool, but the crew seemed to be able to get a laugh out of it.

We decided to head back to the boat before it got dark. The chickens were long gone, probably in the belly of an elusive dragon, so we bade them farewell.

Josh and I gathered all the packs we could carry and headed for the beach. Beau and Maria would just have to come back for the rest. Once again I was astounded by Josh's energy. He arrived at the beach and had already told Beau and Maria of the plan well before I arrived. I only had the energy to nod as they passed me on their way up the hill.

I found Josh sitting under a tree looking out at the water. I dropped the pack from my shoulder and slumped down beside him. He had a strange smile on his face.

‘I know, I'm buggered. I don't know what's wrong with me today,' I tried to explain.

‘Nah, it's not that,' he said. ‘I just came down, before you got here and ... don't say anything ...'

‘Nah, I won't,' I assured him, intrigued by what he was hiding.

‘... and those two were kissing!'

I looked up the hill to where he nodded, as if I expected to see someone other than Beau and Maria.

‘Really!' I said, trying to understand what he actually meant. It took a while to sink in.

‘Did they see you?'

‘I dunno, but don't say anything to them.'

My brain took the next logical step.

‘Where they ... you know ...?'

He laughed, then began to tell me exactly what he saw. I tried not to smile when they returned and we began the hike back to the boat.

I woke the next morning from an exhausted sleep to the sound of loud bangs on
Kijana
's hull and a woman's voice I didn't recognise. I was startled to see that the sun was already up and
Kijana
was not in the same position as when I went to sleep.

I went up on deck to find a man and woman in a dinghy holding
Kijana
's safety lines.

‘Ya anchor's dragging,' the woman said matter-of-factly.

It certainly was. We were in the middle of the channel. The depth sounder revealed we were in 70 metres of water, not the 14 metres we'd been anchored in. I didn't know what to say back to her. I estimated we'd drifted several hundred metres.

‘Ahh, thanks,' I said, sounding like a twit.

Beau and Maria emerged to see what was going on just as I reached for the engine key and ordered the anchor to be pulled in.

Still coming to terms with the situation, I thanked the man and woman again properly.

‘We didn't know if you were leaving or what, then we saw you heading for the rocks over there and knew something must be wrong,' she said.

They kindly stayed with us until they were confident we were under control, before wishing us luck and heading back to their yacht.

‘Where's Josh?' I asked.

‘He went ashore to look for dragons.' Beau replied. Josh was determined to film the dragons, so Beau had dropped him off on the island as the sun was rising.

We decided to drop anchor in the next bay, closer to another yacht, where we presumed the seabed would do a better job of holding us. As we dropped anchor, I realised Josh was going to return to the beach and find the boat gone.

We'd been at our new mooring for less than 30 minutes when a steel-hulled launch with two big outboard motors sped into the bay heading directly for us. I could see half a dozen Indonesian men sitting on its deck. I was immediately concerned. It wasn't a typical Indonesian fishing boat and they appeared to have
Kijana
firmly in their sights. Then, sitting among the men, I could see Josh's long hair blowing in the wind. My immediate reaction was relief. He'd made some friends, I thought.

The launch pulled up alongside and Josh stepped onto
Kijana
, pushing the boat off with his foot at the same time. I searched the men's faces for an answer as to how they had come to have Josh on board.

‘OK, thanks a lot,' Josh said in an unusually high tone, as if he was stressed. It then struck me that the men were in uniform and, upon further inspection, I realised two of them were carrying automatic rifles.

‘I'll tell you later,' Josh said quietly to me. I put on a friendly face and waved to the men, hoping they'd go away. They eventually pulled away and left. The moment they were out of earshot I demanded to know what the hell was going on.

He explained that not long after Beau had dropped him on the island he had entered the undergrowth and spotted something he thought was a dragon. It quickly disappeared, so he set off in pursuit. After startling an army of monkeys, he finally spotted his quarry, a dragon a couple of metres long. He gave chase but only caught glimpses of it through the viewfinder. Nevertheless, it was a victory. The komodo dragon did exist.

He'd decided to head back to the boat to tell us the good news, but when he got to the beach he was confronted by a band of young men, two of whom carried rifles. They said they were representatives from the police, National Parks and a few other organisations who wanted to see his permit. When he couldn't produce one, they accused him of trespassing. The leader began to get aggressive. The other men roamed the beach working out where he had been and accused him of hiding a dinghy.

Struggling with the language barrier, he tried to explain he'd been dropped off by a friend, but when he went to point out
Kijana
, which should have been 40 metres offshore, she was gone. It only made the men more suspicious. Josh said he would show them the boat he was from if they would give him a lift.

One man remained on the shore, apparently trying to find evidence that Josh was a smuggler, while the others escorted him aboard their launch to search for his alleged ‘yacht'. Once they left the bay,
Kijana
quickly came into view. Josh gladly pointed her out, which was the point at which we saw them heading for us.

As Josh began to retell his story to Beau and Maria, I spotted the launch heading towards us again.

‘Hide the guns,' I ordered, ‘and remember, we're just tourists. Don't mention anything about filming.' I suspected these characters would be willing to pin us on any number of legalities, although I wasn't aware we needed permission to go onto the island or to film.

Josh grabbed the camera to film the confrontation. ‘Try to be subtle,' I warned him. ‘Remember, we're tourists!'

The launch arrived and we nodded in recognition. Beau and Maria came back on deck after hiding the guns. A short man stood at the bow wearing a bright orange construction worker's vest. I took the line from him and tied them off. I couldn't remember seeing him before, so I presumed he was the one who had remained on the beach searching for evidence. He also appeared to be the leader of the troop.

His English was very bad, made worse by my conscious effort not to understand him. My strategy was to make it so hard for them to do their job that they would leave. I shot curious looks back at my crew, shrugged shoulders and threw in the few Indonesian words I knew. As the man became more frustrated, his voice rose.

‘Tourist, tourist,' I repeated. He understood we were tourists but wanted to see our permit. After much haggling, the angry man turned and spoke to one of his men. A beefy chap jumped to his feet and handed his rifle to a colleague, then prepared to step aboard
Kijana
.

I knew that under maritime law a person must request permission from the captain to board his vessel. It was also good manners. But when it came to men in uniforms bearing weapons, none of these points seemed to carry much weight. The man was soon on the deck of
Kijana
.

The leader was becoming angry and began to yell at me. I eventually worked out that he wanted us to buy a permit. I knew a man with a gun could ask any price he liked. Maybe it was better just to pay, no matter how exorbitant the price, rather than have them search the boat and find our guns and computer gear.

Then something happened which triggered a chain of events. One of the men reached out to pass the rifle to the man on deck. As he did so, the ammunition magazine dropped from the gun and fell between the small gap between
Kijana
and the launch. The ‘plop' of a metal object dropping into water grabbed everyone's attention, even the angry man. He posed a question in Indonesian and half a dozen bodies moved to peer over the side of the launch to see where the magazine had disappeared.

The tone of the encounter changed dramatically. It went from starforce troopers to Keystone Cops in an instant. The fool on
Kijana
sheepishly inspected the rifle where the magazine should have been, while his mates peered vainly into 12 metres of water.

Their threatening image suddenly dissipated. They were no longer straight-faced soldiers intent on getting the job done, but little boys desperately wanting to get their toy back.

One of the younger men lifted his head and gestured towards his face. He wanted to know if we had a diving mask. Beau went to the anchor well and pulled out a mask, handing it to the intruder on deck. The young man took off his clothes and replaced his balaclava with the mask. With the strap pushing out one of his ears he looked like a dog with a floppy ear, not the frightening invader of a few minutes ago.

He climbed over the side and put his head in the water, but the mask was leaking and he quickly pulled it out again. I motioned to the now not-so-angry man that his colleague had to remove all the hair from his face so the mask could properly seal. He barked some orders and the job was done. We watched for several minutes while the man duck-dived under water, each time returning to the surface empty-handed. I started to feel sorry for them.

‘Maybe we should get the dive gear,' I suggested. Beau agreed, even volunteering to do the dive himself. Josh helped him put on the diving gear and the launch was moved away so that he could step in. He released the air in his jacket and dropped below the surface, leaving a stream of bubbles erupting on the surface. I nodded to the angry man and he gave a slow nod back. We waited and said nothing.

Thirty seconds later Beau emerged with the clip in his hands. The men helped him out of the water and Beau passed the magazine over. They immediately began wiping it dry with their T-shirts.

The angry man gave a smile but kept up his stern voice and said we could stay one more night. We weren't allowed to go ashore and we must leave early in the morning and head straight for a town I'd never heard of. He would meet us there and we were to buy a permit for the equivalent of A$15. I figured the price had dropped considerably in the previous few minutes, so I agreed to his offer.

I thanked the man and untied their line, watching as they left with their tails firmly between their legs.

And so ended our quest for the komodo dragon. I can't say I was displeased to leave Rinca and the dragons behind, even if I felt we had failed.

We were unable to find the town we had been ordered to on the chart, so we continued onto the town of Labuhanbajo on the island of Flores. We sailed the entire day, right around Rinca, before arriving at the small bustling settlement on the western tip of Flores. A tiny island off the coast provided sufficient protection for the fishing fleet that called the town home. It was almost dark by time we manoeuvred
Kijana
through the maze of small fishing boats, dropping anchor within rowing distance of the shore.