Borneo and the isolated islands of Derawan

Ever since reading the book Friction I've been looking for a reason to go to Kalimantan and some travel partners to go with. Friction is an ethnography about the effects of capitalism, transmigration and foreign ownership on the environment and livelihoods of people living in Central Kalimantan during the Suharto era. Desmond (a researcher in Jakarta) planned a trip to Balikpapan for his research so my friend Colin and I decided, if there ever would be a time to go, the time was now. Thus our planning started. Despite logistical annoyances - the need to fly 7 times to get to remote areas and the lack of assurance we'd find affordable accomodation while off the beaten path in an East Kalimantan Island - we followed through. The thought that we might not see sea turtles and wild orangutans before returning to the States was heartbreaking.

Here we are, naive and clean before we hit Borneo.

Derawan, our first destination, is a tiny island off the coast of Kalimantan Timur (East Kalimantan). Most tourists think of Bali and Gili Islands (off the coast of Lombok) as the best spots in Indonesia for beaches, diving, sea life, etc... I've been to both places, and Derwan is significantly more exciting for divers and aquatic life lovers. The fact that the island is difficult to get to keeps the beach relatively awash of tourists. Right off the jetty in Derawan we saw giant sea turtles glide through sea green water, barracudas that dart around jellyfish floating with the tide and other colorful creatures. Our first day, Colin and I swam near the island. We didn't last long because the water darkened and our visibility diminished as sunset neared and baby jellyfish stung our skin constantly. This is a sea cucumber hanging out in the water by our loesman (a cheap hotel-like accomodation).


The next day we woke up, gathered our snorkle equipment and took a speed boat to two islands nearby. After an hour under the sun in the salty air we arrived at Kakaban island. A thick forest covered the entire island. The beach was small and quickly turned into coral, rocks and sea shells as you walked towards the shoreline. I heard animal noises coming from the dense forest. They were the kind of noises I always associated with jungles because of the "sounds of the jungle" CDs at the Nature Store, not sounds I expected to hear so clearly and continuously in a real jungle.

The highlight of our trip was the marine lake on Kakaban Island. This lake is home to four species of jellyfish that evolved to lose their ability to sting. The lake used to be the lagoon of an atoll (an island of coral that encircles a lagoon) and after movements of the earth's crust the coral rose above sea level and created a landlocked marine lake. The four species of jellyfish trapped in the lake (Cassiopeia ornata, Mastigias papua, Aurelia aurita and Tripedalia cystophora) no longer needed their sting because of a lack of predators.

I was cautious around the jellyfish as I slid off the pier and into the water. It took a few jellyfish to brush against my legs for me to truely believe they wouldn't sting me. I floated there, still, as the jellyfish swam around me with a motion like the contraction of a muscle. Finally, I mustered up the courage to hold one in my hand and stroked it's delicate, slimey body with the other. I was in love. Unfortunately, I didn't bring an underwater camera and I can't share the experience - at the least visually - through my blog. Perhaps that's a good thing because I wouldn't want to downplay the magic of this unique place with just a picture.