Experience the joys of "castaway camping", visiting private islands in Jakarta Bay's Thousand Islands, snorkeling, and sleeping on the pier.
The
motorboat Elang, piloted by Pak Boyo with the help of Pak Pendi, slowly
slipped away from the south side of the pier. The 17 of us on the boat
began to relax. Though this boat was rather small, it was a great relief
after the trip in public water transport that had taken two and a half
hours to bring us from Jakarta's fishing port of Muara Angke here to
Pulau Pramuka, in Kepulauan Seribu, the Thousand Islands.
This was my second trip in the Elang. The first time was a few months before, when we went to Pulau Semut and Pulau Bira. Three old friends who'd been on that previous trip were on this one as well – Aya the trip leader, Charlie, and Sas. The other ten people I hadn't met before, and we only got introduced once we were on this boat, as I'd been sitting apart from the tour group. Guttorm, Johannes, Mark, Guro, Anne, Nicole and Gyoengy were all foreigners; then there were also Budi, Siska, and Nevi. We all quickly became friends, and that's one thing I really like about these trips: making new friends!
The calm blue sea and the view of small islands with white sand coastlines ahead made us all start to get excited about what we were setting out to do – visit as many of the Thousand Islands as possible, camp wherever we could, and go snorkeling.
The first island we visited was Pulau Semak Daun, a privately owned, uninhabited island around 30 minutes to the northwest. Here we would cook and eat lunch. The wooden pier on the east side of the island appeared quite new. Guttorm, Gyoengy and Johannes jumped straight into the turquoise water. The white sand beach stretching from north to south was being cleaned by a pair of gardeners. Off to the south, mangrove seedlings were being planted. The best spot was the beach on the island's southern point; this semicircular white-sand beach was a perfect place for sunbathing.
From there, the boat headed north toward Pulau Kelor Barat, where we planned to spend the night camping. Most of the participants, sated by lunch, were dozing; a gentle breeze was blowing. They only woke up when we heard the sounds of boats and people netting fish.
Aya was planning to buy fish for our dinner. When our boat came close
to theirs, Aya jumped over to see their catch; unfortunately, the fish
were too small, so we didn't buy any.
We came upon a sandbar – a strip of coral covered in white sand
that emerges and submerges depending on the tides – south of
Pulau Kaliageh. The area around a sandbar is usually excellent for
snorkeling, as there are usually many coral reefs. Our friends spent
quite some time here, though it turned out the water was quite deep
and there were only a few good reefs.
We then met another fishing boat that was netting fish. This time we were luckier, because they'd just caught some fairly big kakap and baronang. Aya bought three large fish and some smaller fish, and gave them Rp 100.000.
We arrived at Pulau Kelor Barat as the sun was about to set. No one lives on this private island, but there is a caretaker on nearby Pulau Kelor Timur, whom we had to ask for permission to camp there. Pak Dedi, the caretaker, advised us to camp on Pulau Kelor Timur instead, as it has a fresh water spring – an excellent suggestion, since it made it much easier to cook and bathe.
Sas set up the tents, not far from a building that looked like the lobby of a resort. Apparently this island used to have a resort, with a cafÈ and water sports facilities, but it's no longer operating. Only Pak Dedi and a few other young fellows were loyally guarding the island, said to be owned by Tommy Soeharto.
Evening came, and after an excellent meal of roast fish with sambal kecap, we sat chatting on the pier. Pak Dedi came over with his guitar. Much to my surprise, though he's in his sixties, he sang current Indonesian pop songs. "I know all Agnes Monica's songs by heart, including her latest, Matahariku," he proudly told us. Even I don't know these songs that well. "I sing young people's songs so I can continue to feel young myself. It's the only way I can stand staying on this island," he added. Indeed, living on a remote island with no wife or children, you'd need to find some way to keep from growing prematurely old from boredom.
I joined in the singing, despite my hoarse voice. The sea breeze grew stronger and colder. The moon was big and full, and an eclipse was expected before dawn. Most of us were sleeping on the pier in sleeping bags; I decided to follow the example of Mark, Gyoengy, and Nicole, who were already sleeping in tents on the island. As it turned out, I woke up several times during the night because it was so hot inside the tent.
Consequently, I got up late, having missed the sunrise. The only
one who caught the sunrise was Budi; he had also watched the lunar
eclipse, which started at around 3 AM.
After a breakfast of coffee and fried rice, Guttorm, Siska, and Johannes
spent their time swimming and playing with the many colorful fish near
the pier. Later in the morning, we packed up and set sail once again,
this time heading east toward Pulau Tongkeng.
Those
who are new to Kepulauan Seribu won't be able to tell one island from
another; they're all very similar – a cluster of trees, a white
sand beach, and a wooden pier. And since there are so many of them – around
200 islands in all – stretching 120 kilometers north from Jakarta,
only experienced local boatmen can remember the names and locations
of the various islands. Pak Boyo and Pak Pendi, for example, knew the
names of the islands by recognizing their piers. But to me, all these
piers looked the same: made of wood, with a sort of guard post with
a red tile roof. For me, the only way to know was to actually land
on the island and find the signboard that gives the name and area of
the island.
Pulau Tongkeng, allegedly owned by businessman Setiawan Djodi, is a very attractive island. The white beach near the pier is adorned with hot pink benches. There are also two bungalows on the island, but apparently they are seldom used. The caretakers' houses are behind them, near the cellular communication tower, which spoils the view somewhat. The caretakers promptly climbed coconut trees behind the bungalows, and soon we were soothing our throats with fresh, sweet coconut liquid and flesh.
