A Big Ocean, A Lot of Motion, and a Little Commotion - 7/17

Today was mostly dedicated to traveling to Lembogan, another island just off the Southeast shores of Bali. We paid a person to shuttle us to Gili Trawangan, where we could catch a larger boat to Lembongan. While hanging out at Gili T, we had a few drinks and lunch at an Irish pub. It was a great view with good food. My only complaint is that a dying cat lay under my chair the entire meal. Incidentally, I've now seen a rooster in a grocery store, cats in restaurants, and a some stray dogs wander into a bank. (There are a lot of stray dogs and cats. It is rare for people here to actually keep them as pets, so they roam the streets much like... well, the chickens.) The strongest part of all this is that it is so prevalent, it really doesn't even seem strange. I've also seen Bali's only venomous snake--the one the guide book says "no worries, rarely seen"--during our hike up Mount Batar (in a tree) and the occasionally lizard in our hotel rooms and one freaky looking scorpion-like critter in our bathroom in Munduk with a thousand legs that hissed when I killed it. I actually have enjoyed seeing the wildlife (I still giggle every time I see a monkey), but I will be perfectly happy if we go the entire visit without seeing a cobra or Komodo dragon (which are present on the Gili islands).

Our trip on our boat to Lembogan was quite a joy ride. We were told it would be a "three hour trip". Well, I should have known that any boat ride going on a three hour tour may very well end with me trying to make a radio from coconuts on a deserted island. Although the Indian Ocean is the planet's smallest ocean, I was reminded today that all oceans are rather large, quite capable of making some impressive waves, mother nature's gentle way of reminding us who is really in charge. We, the 15-20 people on the USS Minnow, apparently drew short straws. Because there was a boat about twice our boat's size that we thought we were going to board, until we were herded into our little capsule. In truth, on shore the boat seemed rather nice with airplane style seats for each of us - nestled inside a cabin.

But, after about 15 minutes, I quickly realized this was not just a ride on Dad's pontoon through Patoka. I've been on larger fishing boats before and I've felt the swale from waves before. But, mercy. This felt different. The captain of the ship sat inside where we were all sitting, on a chair perched up to see out the front. The rest of us basically watched him rise in the air as the boat would cross a wave, and then feel our hearts jump to our throats as it fell back to the surface - with a thunderous smacking sound as it met the water. At impact, water would shower the windshields and would spray inside the cabin finding any opening it could in through our windows. Rise, fall, smack, squirt. Rise, fall, smack, squirt. The cycle continued only increasing in frequency and intensity. A few times the smacking sounded like cracking. I looked back only hoping the passengers behind me where still there. They were, both with white faces, with their hands clinching the top of my seat. Some of the waves began to roll us slightly sideways. I looked at the captain. He genuinely looked worried. His hands were moving all around the steering wheel, like a kid only pretending to steer a play car. I was getting accustomed to the rise, fall, smack, squirt pattern. What I did not like was feeling the boat enter a wave partial sideways and how it spun us with such ease. I also was not comforted by the look on the captain's face. There was a sign in the front of the boat that read "life jacket is under the seat." I decided this was a good time to verify. I found the life jacket in front of me and pulled it out - and kept a firm hand on it. I asked Tonya to do the same.

We continued to bounce through the waves. As we could see land ahead it seemed it might be calming a bit. But, about that time at the end of our rise, fall, smack, squirt, we received a bonus squirt, then a spray. Tonya noticed the top of the window at our seat had actually popped out of its runners. So now with each smack we were greeted with salt water in our laps. A couple of the the crew went to work on the window. Tonya and I got out of their way and stood hanging on to a pole inside the cabin. One of the crew members actually climbed on the outside along the edge hanging on to the boat, while being pounded with water, trying to fix the window. They continued to work on the window, but despite their best efforts, on a smack the window jarred from their hands and disappeared quickly into the waves.

The fresh air felt good, despite the water. I think it also helped the guy in front of us who held a bag open waiting for it to catch his lunch. And, now that Mother Nature had our attention, she also showed us her mercy. Suddenly all seemed calmer. Even with the window gone, we were just getting an occasional mist. The smacking was not nearly as deafening and the land ahead quickly pulled us forward. So, with only the loss of a window, we pulled into our shore, with us all eager to plant our feet on the solid ground.

Our luggage was stored in a compartment at the top of the boat underneath a tarp. But, that apparently was still within the waves reach, because the luggage and all the clothes inside are completely wet.
But after another amazing fish curry, a few Bintangs (local beer), and an amazing sunset, I again go to bed tonight with a smile on my face and keen awareness of my many blessings.

The treacherous trip. I'm looking at the guys working on the window that was jarred loose.