Raja Ampat Kayak Expedition: Uranie to Quoy (2/15)

Kat along the vertical limestone walls of Uranie.

“Halim! Chan! Come out now with the kayaks!”, I shouted over the radio.

I was still on the water 3 hours after what was supposed to be a short 6km warm-up paddle. SH was missing. Everyone was back at campsite except her. I retraced the northern Uranie walls and I could not spot her. She was probably on the southern side of island paddling in God-knows direction and I needed someone to block her, instead of chasing her around the island. 

The worst case scenario was she capsized along the walls, where the water was very rough. Hence the urgency to deploy the block so that I could paddle and have a look at the calm side of the island. With Halim and Chan in place as the northern ‘block’, and Johnny the relay station back to camp, I started towards the southern coast. 

“Huey, huey!!!”, SH’s voice came over the radio.

“Where are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Keep the island to the right and paddle until you see one of us. Otherwise, head west.”

~

It was almost 2pm when we re-organized and packed. We were late. I pushed for an immediate start to E3, our next stop. We had 32 E-points on the safety map, pre-determined locations that were coded to minimize misunderstanding and mispronunciation. Good maps of Raja Ampat were hard to find, and the various maps used had no standardized names. 

The paddle to E3 was pleasant. Those who felt queasy during the warm-up paddle felt better, stronger, and happier. The currents made light the load of our kayaks. Our minds wandered when the feeling on the water was good. After spotting dolphins yesterday, every floating object looked like the back of a wild creature. Such was our expectations of this pristine wilderness, that shadows made us paused and looked harder. But we hoped not to see the saltwater crocodiles that still roamed Raja Ampat. This specie of reptile can grow to more than 5 meters and were known to be aggressive hunters. I brought a stiletto and kept it on me at all times, believing the croc to grab and dive, giving me some minutes to puncture its tough skin. As a safety prevention, known croc habitats were marked out of our route.

Just like yesterday, there were surf landing on the beaches when we arrived at E3. The landing had to be calculated. Which part of the beach to land, when to hook out the pivot leg, when to dismount, and who were on shore to grab the kayak. Because the kayaks were heavily loaded, beaching must be avoided. With 35kg of load, each kayak now weigh close to 60kg. If carried, we would either break our back or the kayak. 

One following the other, we approached carefully. Near enough, the upwash would deposit our kayaks high on the beach. Almost immediately the swash would dragged us back. ‘Crashed’ would be a better word to described some landings, as the powerful surf slammed Chan’s kayak against the beach, bending the frames inside and damaging it. Between the crashing waves and sucking backwash, we emptied the load quickly. For the neat packers, these would be 4-5 drybags stored inside and on top of the kayaks. It required a couple of dashes from the kayak to the vegetation, until one realized there were also 10 bottles of water...

The landing commotion ended near sunset, when the receding tide left our kayaks out of reach of the crawling backwash. Finally we could relaxed, swam, or watched the sunset. You knew the day was over when someone asked you how the day went, or offered you a kretek, or share a drink. On a quiet and deserted beach, voices amplified enough for you to know camping on the beach was not feasible, and the tents had to be set into the vegetation. And when I saw the first tent came up, it was then that I could find ways to wind down the adrenalin and planned my night. 

I took a walk along the beach, now fully exposed and basked by the pink of sunset. Even at this remote beach there were rubbish everywhere - bottles, foams, plastic packagings, and interestingly lots of rubber slippers. I guessed there were too many easy ways of losing slippers. I walked around looking for a pair of slippers that fit my feet, having lost mine. Already there was a puncture under my right foot. Papuans wore only size 8 and below....what were big on the beach were huge logs cleanly cut at both ends. Papua has the largest tract of rainforest in the world ready to be exploited. Logging perhaps? It was disappointing to find rubbish on such a remote beach. But I guessed floating trash had to wash up somewhere in the world. With no sweepers, a clean remote beach must be an exception rather than the norm.

Among all the mess of marine debris, the most useful driftwoods were gathered to make a fire. We sat on the large logs that we could not move, and quietly waited for the stove of water to boil. Johnny, being among three of us who was recovering from flu, sprawled asleep. Others were unsure what their bodies were telling them. The first few days of an expedition were the most tiring, as the body adjusted to the demands of less food and more exertion. For those joining such expeditions for the first time, it could be a painful adjustment. Dinner tonight was 150g of chicken ration and 50g of wheat rice each, a disappointing meal after a tiring day. 

When you don’t get enough of anything, it will only get worse before it gets better.